Daring to Love the Duke's Heir

by Janice Preston

  ‘I am about to propose to you.’

  Her heart leapt. Her lungs seized. Her sisters were still watching avidly...with Gideon and...Mrs Mount? Liberty swallowed down a swell of tears as she processed his words. Propose? To her? But... ‘What about Sybilla?’ she whispered.

  ‘Forget Sybilla,’ he said roughly. ‘It is you I love. You I need.’ His chest expanded as he inhaled, then his words came out in a disjointed rush. ‘Berty...if you can forgive me...if you can love me...if, when I ask you to marry me, your answer is yes...then stay here, by my side. But if you cannot, if your answer is still no, then we will say no more.’

  He captured her gaze again. Heat swirled in his eyes and she could feel the dampness of his palms.

  ‘My intention was to declare my love and to propose to you tonight—here, in front of everyone, so neither you nor anyone else will doubt my love for you is true. But I changed my mind.’

  Liberty’s heart had begun to soar. Now, she could not stifle her gasp of dismay.

  ‘I changed my mind,’ Dominic continued, ‘because I will not back you into a corner in front of all these people. I will not put you in a position where you feel you cannot refuse me. You are in control, my darling Berty. Walk away now, if you wish, and no one will be any the wiser. But know that my heart will go with you.’

  Her heart somersaulted. This private man—a man who concealed his heart and his emotions behind duty and obligation—was about to make a public declaration. To her!

  The cacophony of surrounding voices was fading—a tide of sound receding. She sensed they now stood in a clearing and that the people around them were moving back, but she could not tear her gaze from his.

  She slid her hands back until just their fingers overlapped and then she curled her fingers until they were linked with his. She smoothed her thumbs across his knuckles and put all of her love into her smile. ‘I will not walk away, Dominic. I love you.’

  His lips curved and his fingers tightened around hers. He raised his head, clearly seeking someone over the heads of the crowd. A gong reverberated throughout the room and now the hush of the crowd could not be mistaken.

  ‘My lords, ladies and gentleman.’ Liberty recognised Grantham’s voice. ‘Pray silence for His Lordship, the Marquess of Avon.’

  * * *

  The difficult part was over. So why did his knees still shake and why was his stomach still churning? She would not walk away. She had said so. But this was still the most important moment of his life and he was desperate to get it right. Dominic swallowed past the swell of emotion that clogged his throat and clasped Liberty’s hands even tighter, revelling in the knowledge that he could hold her hands whenever he chose, from this night onwards, for the rest of their lives. He could feel her suppressed emotion in the tremble of her hands and he could see it by the quiver of her lower lip.

  Then their eyes met. And she smiled and it was as though the sun broke through dark clouds and everything...everything...was all right. His tension fragmented and a surge of energy...of hope...of joy...radiated throughout his entire body. He hauled in a deep breath and, when he spoke, there was no hesitancy in his words or in his voice.

  He had prepared what he would say—the proper words and sentiments for an occasion such as this—but he ignored all his careful plans. He gazed out at the sea of faces surrounding them and he spoke from the heart.

  ‘There has been much speculation in the past weeks about my intentions. I arrived in town with the aim of finding the perfect wife for me and for my position as my father’s heir. I have to tell you...’ his gaze swept the crowd ‘...that I was possibly even more undecided than any one of you as to whom that lady might be.

  ‘And then this lady—Liberty Louisa Lovejoy—burst into my life like a...like a...’

  He paused, and stared down at Liberty. How could he sum up what she had come to mean to him in just a few words? What words could do her justice? She smiled, her gold-flecked blue eyes urging him on. And then the exact words didn’t matter. He was talking with his heart, not his head—and if they came out less than perfect, he did not care.

  ‘She burst into my life like a whirlwind of sunshine, lighting my life with laughter, with love and with joy. And I had found my perfect partner in life. And, if she will have me, my perfect wife...my perfect Marchioness.’

  It was his turn to smile, while Liberty looked serious.

  ‘Liberty Lovejoy, I love you with every beat of my heart. I love you with every breath I take. You already have possession of my heart. Will you now do me the great honour of accepting my hand as well? Will you marry me?’

  For what felt like an eternity her expression remained set and it felt as though his heart, too, stilled as he waited. The room around them was silent, not a sound to be heard. He concentrated on her mouth, those lush lips, willing her to answer. Slowly...excruciatingly slowly...her lips lifted at the corners...curved into a smile...and parted.

  And he shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. Because she went up on tiptoes, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, quite thoroughly, accompanied by a chorus of gasps and sighs from their audience.

  And Dominic could breathe properly for the first time since Liberty had announced she was not with child and he could marry whomever he chose.

  He chose Liberty Lovejoy.

  And she said yes...in deed if not in so many words.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The ball was finally over. The guests, other than their families, had all gone home and the Beauchamps and the Lovejoys repaired to the family parlour for their first opportunity to discuss the betrothal. Publicly, of course, all his family had congratulated him. They had put on a good show...but was it just a show, or would they really be happy for him and welcome Liberty into the fold? The hard ball of anxiety that had lodged in Dominic’s stomach over the past weeks had dissolved, leaving one tiny knot of unease, one unanswered question, behind.

  Would following his heart mean a rift between him and his beloved family?

  Dominic tucked Liberty close to him as they sat side by side on the sofa and the Beauchamps, Lovejoys—and Mrs Mount—assembled. Olivia, of course, piped up the minute the door closed.

  ‘Well! I do think you might have told me what you planned, Dominic. Liberty is my friend, after all. I could have helped.’

  He should have expected no less and he noticed Father and Rosalind exchange wry smiles.

  ‘I neither needed nor wanted your help, Livvy,’ he said. ‘But thank you for the thought.’

  Olivia pouted. ‘Hope and Verity knew! And even Mrs Mount and she’s not even family.’

  ‘I had to confide in them, Liv. I wasn’t confident Liberty would come tonight otherwise.’

  ‘She was exceedingly stubborn.’ Hope was sitting next to Alex, casting occasional coquettish glances at him through her lashes while Alex pretended not to notice. ‘Poor Mrs Mount had to feign illness before she would give in.’

  ‘Well, I still think—’ Olivia fell silent as Hugo placed a hand on her shoulder.

  ‘All has worked out for the best, my sweet, so you must concede that Dominic didn’t need your help. He knew what he was doing.’

  ‘Eventually,’ said Alex.

  Dominic frowned at his brother, receiving an innocent smile in return as Alex continued, ‘You’re slipping, Liv. It must be motherhood. Hugo and I knew which way the wind was blowing weeks ago.’

  Olivia sucked in a deep breath, ready to retaliate, and Dominic saw his father getting ready to intervene, but it was Liberty who spoke.

  ‘Are you disappointed you weren’t told, or disappointed in Dominic’s choice, Olivia?’

  The slightest of tremors in her voice told him how much courage it had taken for her to ask such a direct question, especially when she had already confided in him how nervous she was at facing his family. Especially his father. He to
ok her hand and squeezed.

  Olivia paled at Liberty’s words and she shot out of her seat and sat on the other side of Liberty, putting her arm around her shoulders.

  ‘How could you even think I might be disappointed he chose you, Liberty? When I think of those haughty girls on that ridiculous list of his—no! There is no comparison. You are perfect, just as Dom said. It is just that I feel like I’m the only one who didn’t know.’

  ‘You always did want to know everything that is going on, Olivia, and you haven’t changed.’ Father stood and moved across to the mantelpiece, commanding the room as was his wont. ‘If it’s any consolation, your stepmother and I knew nothing either, not until the very first guests were already walking up the stairs this evening. That is the first time we knew Liberty’s identity.’

  Both Rosalind and Father had trusted Dominic when he had asked them to throw a ball for a special announcement without revealing any details. He prayed they did not now feel that trust had been betrayed. Liberty’s fingers tightened on Dominic’s and he heard her intake of breath.

  ‘Is that why you said what you did to me when I arrived, Your Grace?’

  Dominic stared at his father. Had he been unwelcoming?

  ‘What did you say to her?’ he demanded. He had to challenge him—he would not stand for any member of his family, even his father, upsetting Liberty. He had deliberately not revealed her identity earlier because he had wanted neither his father’s help nor his hindrance. Nor had he wanted to know if Father disapproved because his approval or disapproval had been irrelevant, in the end.

  Liberty was Dominic’s choice and his alone.

  He held his breath, awaiting his father’s reply, but it was Liberty who spoke.

  ‘He said it was a pleasure to meet me again and that he and the Duchess were honoured that I accepted their invitation.’ She smiled up at Dominic. ‘Honoured! Your father made me feel welcome and that helped to give me the courage to face this evening.’

  Dominic caught his father’s eyes and sent him a silent apology. Father ghosted a wink in reply and that last knot of tension in Dominic’s stomach unravelled.

  But Liberty hadn’t finished. Her cheeks turned pink as her gaze took in every person in the room, one by one.

  ‘I was convinced Dominic was about to announce his betrothal to someone else and I wanted to be anywhere but here tonight.’ She beamed then at her brother and sisters, and Mrs Mount, who had still come to the ball, but rather later than planned. ‘Thank you all for not giving up on me.’

  ‘That’s all right, Sis,’ said Gideon. ‘We did it for ourselves more than you—how else could we get rid of Romeo?’

  ‘Is that your dog, Liberty?’ Rosalind asked, over the chuckles raised by Gideon’s remarks. ‘I hope he likes other dogs because there will be several around when you come to the Abbey in July.’

  Liberty looked questioningly at Dominic. He hadn’t even thought that far ahead. The Abbey was his childhood home and he couldn’t wait to show Liberty around, although they would make their home at one of Father’s minor estates.

  ‘The entire family will all be together for the first time since Olivia and Hugo married, four years ago,’ said Dominic. He lifted her hand and kissed it. ‘I cannot wait for you—and Romeo—to meet the rest of them.’

  She smiled at that. ‘I am sure he will be on his best behaviour,’ she said to Rosalind.

  ‘Well, now.’ Father crossed to where Rosalind was sitting and helped her to rise, then he led her across to Dominic and Liberty, who stood up also. ‘I said it in the ballroom, Liberty, but I want you to be in no doubt... I am delighted to welcome you to our family. I can see you have made my son a happy man and that’s good enough for me.’

  He placed his hands on her shoulders and bent to kiss her cheek, then murmured something into her ear. Something Dominic could not hear.

  ‘Goodnight, everyone.’ He and Rosalind went to the door, then Father held it open, making it clear to the rest of the company it was time to leave. One by one they said goodnight to Dominic and Liberty and trooped out. Gideon was the last to go.

  ‘We’ll wait for you in the entrance hall, Sis,’ he said.

  And then they were alone. At last. Dominic wrapped Liberty in his arms, but still the question burned in him and he had to ask.

  ‘What did Father whisper to you?’

  Liberty beamed up at him. ‘He said he knew it was me, from the night of Lady Stanton’s ball.’

  ‘And I was very pleased,’ came a deep voice from the doorway, ‘that you saw sense, my Son. After all, why spoil the Beauchamp tradition of following our hearts?’

  ‘Why did you say nothing?’

  His father never normally shied away from manipulating events to suit himself.

  ‘Because it was your decision, Dom. It was for you to make your own choice—head or heart. I’m happy it was the right one. Eventually, as your brother would say. Goodnight.’

  They were alone again. And now there were no more unanswered questions. Except... Dominic frowned.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘You never did answer my question, Berty.’

  ‘Which question?’

  ‘Will you marry me?’

  She smiled and traced his lower lip with her forefinger. ‘I thought I answered you most explicitly, Lord Avon. But, if you want unequivocal, then you shall have it.’

  She slipped her arms around his neck, went up on tiptoes and, for the second time that night, she kissed him. Very thoroughly. Until his senses swam and his blood was on fire.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ she whispered against his lips. ‘Yes. Yes. Yes.’

  * * *

  If you enjoyed this story

  be sure to read the other book in

  The Beauchamp Heirs miniseries

  Lady Olivia and the Infamous Rake

  And while you’re waiting for

  Janice Preston’s next book

  check out

  The Beauchamp Betrothals miniseries

  Cinderella and the Duke

  Scandal and Miss Markham

  Lady Cecily and the Mysterious Mr. Gray

  Keep reading for an excerpt from The Highborn Housekeeper by Sarah Mallory.

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  The Highborn Housekeeper

  by Sarah Mallory

  Chapter One

  The snow started at dusk. Only a few flakes at first, but soon it was falling steadily and coating t
he icy ground.

  Nancy was warm enough, dressed in her riding habit of plum-coloured velvet with its matching curly-brimmed hat and wrapped in a voluminous cloak. Her companion, too, looked snug in a heavy wool redingote and shawl and they both had their feet resting on warm bricks and snuggled into sheepskin, but she felt some sympathy for the servants sitting up on the box.

  However, when they stopped to change horses at the Crown in Tuxford and her driver suggested that she might put up there for the night, she was adamant that they should continue. William, who had come to the chaise door to issue his advice, pushed back his hat and stared at her, perplexed. His breath formed small icy clouds as he spoke with all the confidence of an old and trusted retainer.

  ‘I don’t like it, madam, and that’s a fact. The snow don’t show no signs of easing. We should stop here.’

  ‘It is but very fine snow,’ she responded. ‘There is nothing much to accumulate and no wind to cause any drifting, so we shall go on.’ She noted his frown and conceded one point. ‘You may order yourselves something hot to drink, if you wish, and have them bring coffee out for Mrs Yelland and me. And perhaps you will ask them to provide fresh hot bricks for our feet.’

  ‘You won’t step inside, ma’am, just for a few minutes?’ The woman sitting beside her spoke for the first time. ‘We might warm ourselves by a fire.’

  ‘No, Hester, we will push on.’ Nancy shook her head. It was not only the memories this place conjured for her, she dared not risk being recognised.

  Her companion read the determination in Nancy’s face and sighed as she settled herself back into her corner. ‘Very well, ma’am, you know best.’

  Nancy heard the disappointment in Hester Yelland’s voice, but would not change her mind. She was unusually tall for a woman and that would attract attention. Someone might recognise her. After all, she had immediately known the landlord as he stood in the doorway, hands on his hips, watching the travelling chaise as it came into the yard. He had been assessing whether it was worth his while to step out into the cold and she was relieved that his experienced eye noted that it was a rather shabby vehicle. Instead he had sent a servant out to speak to William Coachman, who was calling to the ostlers for fresh horses and be quick about it.