by Heather Boyd
“Natalia’s a lovely girl.” Gillian craned her neck, hoping for a glimpse of her current charge, who was out walking with her father. She wanted one last hug before she left to visit her new situation. “I am looking forward to spending time with them.”
“Now, before we go, I want to make sure you understand that I haven’t paid any heed to Rebecca’s remarks yesterday. I know Jessica has changed for the better since your arrival. And I also know Rebecca’s temperament well. Jessica is much calmer now than she used to be, and my daughter has certainly benefited from the numerous invitations to visit since you came to live here. I’m sure our inclusion was thanks to your influence over the duke.”
Gillian shook her head, heart pained. “I had little influence on the duke’s decisions.” He didn’t listen to her. If he had, he wouldn’t be forcing Jessica to live with Rebecca.
She wished she could escape this kind woman before she broke down and cried her eyes out.
Gillian turned away—but gasped as Nicolas skidded sideways into the chamber, struggling to keep his balance on the highly polished marble floor. He straightened when he saw her, tugged his coat and strode toward her purposefully. Gillian’s heart began to beat hard against her ribs in time with his steps, until she thought she might faint.
Mrs. Hawthorne beamed. “What brings you here in such a hurry, Stapleton?”
“My companion.”
“My companion now.” Mrs. Hawthorne smiled at Gillian fondly. “What you do not want, I will gladly take off your hands, your grace.”
“It was my eldest daughter who claimed I didn’t want her.” He sidestepped his neighbor and loomed over Gillian. “I do want you, Gillian. Very much.”
Gillian froze. “Your grace?”
“My love,” he whispered, bringing his fingers up to caress her burning cheeks. He bent further, until his lips hovered inches over hers. “Last night was the beginning for us, not the end. Don’t go. I love you with all my heart.”
He paused a moment while she processed that news, and then he crushed her mouth under his in a devastating kiss that left Gillian without any doubt of his sincerity.
They were not alone!
Mrs. Hawthorne swooned, stumbling back against the nearest wall to gape and gasp.
Gillian clutched Nicolas for support, giddy with shock and hope. He bound her tight against his chest and lifted her feet from the floor. “Never, ever, ever, ever believe any of my children know my plans before you do.”
“But Jessica?”
He smiled. “Will go to London with us when the house party ends, if you agree to marry me by special license as soon as possible.”
“I…”
“Don’t tell me you don’t love me, now that I’ve gone and ruined your chances of employment with Mrs. Hawthorne.” He glanced at his neighbor. “Sorry about that. Perhaps you should sit down.”
Mrs. Hawthorne was already against the wall and, at his suggestion, slid to the marble floor, oblivious that her gown had risen above her knees and revealed her shapely legs.
Nicolas turned his warm and wicked face to Gillian and kissed her quickly again. “You love me. I know you do.”
Gillian studied his face. So many things about his behavior suddenly made sense. His determination to protect her reputation, his insatiable desire, and his behavior the last time they’d made love. He’d wanted to talk, but she’d distracted him with kisses and then hid from him ever since. Armed with self-doubt and Rebecca’s false information, Gillian hadn’t given him a chance to speak his mind or his heart.
She held his gaze and then brought her hand to his dear face. “Heaven help me, I do love you.”
He winked. “Then without further ado…”
He set her down and sank to one knee, took her hand in his and smiled up at her. “Darling Gillian, would you make me the happiest of men by accepting me as your husband? I promise to devote my life to making you happy, and I assure you my first appointment when we arrive in London is to have my solicitor draft a marriage contract that will ensure you will never have to raise another man’s child as your own again.”
She beamed at him. “I was very happy standing in for Jessica’s mother all these past months.”
“Then say yes, and become her mother in truth.” He rose. “Let me love you for all the days of my life. I cannot bear the thought of ever losing you.”
Gillian sobbed and raised her hand to his face. She had never heard such a sweet sound as Nicolas pleading for her love and hand in marriage. “Yes, Nicolas. I would be so happy to marry you.”
Epilogue
“Remember not to get too comfortable.” Nicolas squeezed Gillian’s fingers one last time, stepped from the traveling carriage, and then turned to help his wife out. He kissed her fingers before he let her go.
Gillian looked around, grinning from ear to ear. “I have missed this place,” she told him.
“We all have,” Jessica said dryly, falling into place beside Gillian and looking around the grounds with a critical eye. “It’s good to be back where we belong.”
“We are going back to London once I’ve dealt with the situation,” he warned his daughter. This was only to be a brief respite from the delights and rigors of the London season.
Jessica sighed. “I wish we could just stay here forever instead.”
“And leave your new friends to face the perils of the marriage mart alone?” Gillian chided. “You’d never desert them in their time of need. Besides, there is no one better at driving away unwanted suitors than you with your talk of fungus.”
That brought a smile to Jessica’s lips. “It was Giddy’s idea to bore them to death,” she confessed.
“Good old Whitfield,” he murmured, and then smiled as his staff poured out the front doors to welcome them home.
“Welcome home, Lord Stapleton, Lady Stapleton, Lady Jessica,” their butler exclaimed as he hurried down the front steps, his coat tails flapping in his haste to greet them.
“Hello, Brown.” It was clear his staff were eager to greet the new Duchess of Stapleton because all eyes were on her now. When Gillian had left the estate, she’d still been a companion, with only four souls aware of Nicolas’ intentions to marry her. They had wed in London, two weeks after their arrival in the capital—a small gathering where Nicolas had barely acknowledged anyone. None of his children, beside Jessica, had been informed or invited. He hadn’t wanted to overwhelm Gillian since she had no family to invite then and his own children might have raised a fuss over him marrying a woman recently employed in his household.
He was so in love with Gillian and the possibilities of their life together, he had hardly paid attention to his second wedding service.
He was told he’d become quite rude, too.
Because of his distraction, Gillian had had to win over his closest friends in London on her own merit. She was warm to them, even laughed at their ribbing of him being leg shackled again. They’d hosted two intimate dinners for friends in London before their return. But he could tell Gillian was a little lonely for her own friends, her lost family too, which was why he’d brought them back home under the pretense of dealing with an emergency on the estate.
Nicolas beamed as Gillian exchanged a kind word with the butler and housekeeper, moving smoothly into her new role of duchess with aplomb. She had been popular with everyone at Stapleton, and it appeared nothing had changed with her elevation. He was so proud of her he could burst.
“Should you like to look over the day’s menus soon, your grace?” the housekeeper asked Gillian.
“In perhaps an hour, in the morning room.” She touched her head with a small laugh. “I’m afraid I’m still rocking from the carriage just a bit too much to concentrate.”
“Me too,” Jessica quipped, before she kissed Gillian’s and Nicolas’ cheeks. “I want the peace of my room for the afternoon and the new book on propagation that Giddy sent me.”
“Very good.” The housekeeper stepped back with a smile
while Gillian spoke to the remaining staff. They all seemed happy to see Gillian, happy about their marriage, and he was well pleased with her reception.
“Make it two hours, Mrs. Brown,” he suggested with a grin, placing his hand on the small of Gillian’s back and steering her indoors. Nicolas considered them newlyweds still, and he desperately wanted to be alone with his wife in the place they’d fallen in love.
He put his arm around her shoulders as they ascended to the first floor, and then he hugged her to his side tightly. “We’ll be here only a few days, my love.”
She glanced his way. “Will you tell me now what the emergency is?”
“We have visitors expected tomorrow,” he told her.
“Visitors?” Her brow rose. “Why be so secretive about that?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure they could come until a few days ago, and I didn’t want to disappoint you if they refused to come when I wanted them to.”
“Who are they?”
Nicolas took her hands in his. “Your younger brother and his wife are coming to visit you.”
Her breath caught and her eyes widened. “I never told you I had a brother.”
“But you told Jessica, and she mentioned to me that you hadn’t seen your brother since your first marriage began. Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln Garland live not far from here, actually. I had my man track them down and sent a carriage to collect them. I thought they could stay with us for a little while before we go back to London and Mr. Garland to his work.”
Gillian threw herself into his arms and hugged him tightly. “Thank you. I always wondered what had happened to Lincoln.”
Nicolas drew back and grinned. “Mr. Garland is a solicitor. Quite important, I understand. He married a woman from a prominent legal family and has two small boys now.”
“I have nephews?”
“We have nephews,” he corrected her. If she had to cope with his unruly adult children and grandchildren, then it was only fair that he should accept responsibility for hers too. There was much he could do for his wife’s brother, not that she would ever ask him for anything to help them. “I’m looking forward to meeting them. I’m keen to hear what Garland has to say about your childhood. I can’t believe you were always as perfect as you are now.”
“Oh, no. He’s going to spoil the illusion I’ve so deviously woven,” Gillian bemoaned, but laughed heartily. “You are the most wonderful husband, Nicolas.”
The most wonderful thing about his marriage to Gillian was that being serious had become entirely optional. Now there was no reason to behave, they teased each other a lot.
“I know,” Nicolas whispered before giving her a lingering kiss, a prelude to how they might spend the next few uninterrupted hours.
He tugged Gillian into the duchess’ bedchamber, and pulled her into his arms.
“What are you up to, your grace?” she asked with one brow arched.
Servants streamed in and out of her new bedchamber, a room that connected to his, but he didn’t care who saw them now. There was no scandal since they were well and truly matched and married.
He grinned and caught her hand so he could toy with the wedding band on her finger. “One of the perks of being a married man is that I get to follow you everywhere, your grace.”
She twined her fingers with his and leaned into him as the last servant departed. “My favorite is that I may kiss you without waiting for mistletoe anymore.”
So she did, and very thoroughly too.
More Regency Romance From Heather Boyd…
Distinguished Rogues Series
Book 1: Chills (Jack and Constance)
Book 2: Broken (Giles and Lillian)
Book 3: Charity (Oscar and Agatha)
Book 4: An Accidental Affair (Merrick and Arabella)
Book 5: Keepsake (Kit and Miranda)
Book 6: An Improper Proposal (Martin and Iris)
Book 7: Reason to Wed (Richard and Esme)
Book 8: The Trouble with Love (Everett and Whitney)
Book 9: Married by Moonlight (Gilbert and Anna)
Rebel Hearts Series
Book 1: The Wedding Affair (Felix and Sally)
Book 2: An Affair of Honor (William and Matilda)
Book 3: The Christmas Affair (Amy and Harper)
Book 4: An Affair so Right (Quinn and Theodora)
Wild Randalls Series
Book 1: Engaging the Enemy (Leopold and Mercy)
Book 2: Forsaking the Prize (Tobias and Blythe)
Book 3: Guarding the Spoils (Oliver and Elizabeth)
Book 4: Hunting the Hero (Constantine and Rosemary)
See the full book list…
About Heather Boyd
Determined to escape the Aussie sun on a scorching camping holiday, Heather picked up a pen and notebook from a corner store and started writing her very first novel—Chills. Eight years later, she is the author of over thirty romances and publisher of several anthologies too. Addicted to all things tech (never again will Heather write a novel longhand) and fascinated by English society of the early 1800’s, Heather spends her days getting her characters in and out of trouble and into bed together (if they make it that far). She lives on the edge of beautiful Lake Macquarie, Australia with her trio of mischievous rogues (husband and two sons) along with one rescued cat whose only interest in her career is that it provides him with food on demand.
You can find details of her work at
www.heather-boyd.com
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