Emily gazed at him in disbelief, her eyes like saucers.
‘It’s the simple truth,’ he assured her, then raised an eyebrow at her change of expression. ‘What?’ he demanded.
‘When I found out, I was disappointed, too—but only for a second or two,’ she added honestly. ‘But it really amazes me that you were.’
‘It amazed me for a while, too. I’d never given fatherhood a thought before.’ He smoothed a caressing hand over her stomach. ‘Which brings me back to the subject of your future employment. I need a mother for these unborn children of mine. Since you’re the only woman in the world I want for the post, Miss Warner, will you accept?’
Emily looked at him in silence for a moment or two, then saw a pulse throbbing at the corner of his mouth and realised that Lucas wasn’t sure how she’d respond. ‘Yes, please,’ she said, her voice even huskier than usual. ‘Do you need references?’
Lucas drew in a deep breath. ‘No. But before you accept the post there’s something you have to do first,’ he told her, his voice not quite steady.
‘What is it?’
‘You have to marry me.’
‘Marry you?’
Lucas propped himself up on an elbow to look down at her stunned face. ‘Emily Warner, you said yes a minute ago.’
‘I didn’t know what you meant!’
‘I’ve never proposed before, so I obviously didn’t get it quite right—’ He halted, frowning down at her. ‘Wait a minute. You mean you were ready to take me—and these mythical children of mine—without a wedding first?’
‘Yes.’
‘Even knowing your father’s views on the subject?’
Emily gave him a startled look. ‘I clean forgot about that. I just wanted to say yes to whatever you wanted.’
‘My darling girl!’ He dived down beside her and took her in his arms. ‘So you do love me.’
‘I said I did,’ she said tartly. ‘What else do I have to do to convince you?’
Lucas pretended to consider. ‘First you kiss me.’
‘That sounds easy.’
‘Then you put your arms round me.’
‘Like this?’
‘Perfect.’
She wriggled closer. ‘Now what do I do?’
‘Use your imagination,’ he said unsteadily.
Emily’s imagination proved astoundingly fertile for someone who, up to meeting Lucas Tennent, had considered the entire concept of lovemaking over-rated.
‘Are you—convinced yet?’ she demanded at one stage, her only answer a devouring kiss as Lucas slid home between her parted thighs and Emily strained him close, her body answering his as she tried to prove to him beyond all doubt how much she loved him. And knew she’d succeeded when he gasped in elation as the earthy, transient glory finally overwhelmed them.
The week that followed was hectic. Emily had grown quite agile with her crutch by the time her parents came to the flat for a celebration lunch everyone much enjoyed after Lucas had formally requested, and been granted, the hand of the Reverend Richard Warner’s daughter in marriage. Claire Warner, it was obvious, took to her prospective son-in-law on sight, and to Emily’s relief told her in private that her father was equally pleased with her choice.
The next celebration was a party with a guest-list which included a jubilant Ginny Hart, and husband Charlie, along with the Donaldsons, Bryony, Mark, Nat and even Thea, who came up to London for the occasion. And at the weekend Emily, minus crutch, but stiff with nerves, went with Lucas to collect his sister from Heathrow. Alice Tennent, all bronze skin and sun-streaked hair, courtesy of the Italian sun, embraced her brother and Emily with equal enthusiasm, so delighted at the news that she talked wedding plans non-stop with Emily as Lucas drove them down to the house he’d bought for his mother in a Cotswold village near enough to Chastlecombe to invite Emily’s family for lunch.
Emily felt rather dazed on the journey back to London that evening.
‘Are you tired, sweetheart? Ankle hurting?’ asked Lucas.
‘No. Neither. I just feel I’m in a dream and I’ll wake up any minute. Your mother’s lovely, Lucas, and Alice is a kindred spirit, as I’m sure you could tell. I hope they both like me.’
‘Of course they do,’ he said, laughing. ‘And even if they don’t it doesn’t matter a damn, because I like you. I like you a lot.’
Emily grinned at him. ‘I like you a lot, too.’ She paused. ‘But I’m very glad your mother took to me, just the same.’
‘When we had a minute together before we left she told me she was delighted. Relieved, too.’
‘Relieved?’
‘Because I work in the City, Mother was always afraid I’d marry some frightening, power-suited female in the same line of work.’
‘Whereas I’ve never frightened anyone in my life.’
‘I wouldn’t say that. You’ve put the fear of God into Miles Denny more than once!’
‘Don’t remind me!’ Emily shuddered. ‘This time I really thought I’d killed him. Thank heavens his skull is thick—but never mind Miles. I’m just glad your mother liked me.’
‘She knows that with you I’ll have the kind of marriage she never had herself. She wants the same for my sister, too.’
‘Does Alice have someone in her life?’
‘She’s never short of male company, but so far no one significant.’ He grinned. ‘Ally thinks it’s wonderful that I’m marrying my angel of mercy.’
Emily chuckled. ‘I’m no angel, Lucas.’
‘For which—at certain times—I’m passionately grateful,’ he said, in a tone which took her breath away.
By the time Lucas returned to his job in the City, Emily was mobile again, and to please her parents went down to Chastlecombe to spend the month before the wedding with them before taking up permanent residence in Lucas’s flat. She spent the weekends with Lucas in London and back home during the week, in the time left over from wedding arrangements, Emily worked on her novel. And found that writer’s block was a thing of the past.
‘I probably shouldn’t be staying here so near to the wedding,’ remarked Emily, the Sunday before.
‘Why not?’ demanded Lucas.
‘My superstitions again, I suppose.’
‘Because of bloody Miles!’
‘I just don’t want anything to go wrong this time.’
Lucas moved closer on the sofa and scooped her close against him. ‘Nothing,’ he assured her, ‘will go wrong. I wouldn’t dare let it, because Ally will kill me if she can’t wear the hat she’s bought.’
Emily giggled and relaxed against him. ‘It’s going to be a long, long week until Saturday. I’ll miss you,’ she said, sighing.
‘Not as much as I’ll miss you,’ he said gloomily. ‘I’ll be so haggard from insomnia you won’t recognise me when you come down the aisle.’
‘You’ll just have to wear a gardenia in your buttonhole so I don’t marry the wrong man.’
‘Fat chance of that.’ He laughed and got up, pulling her to her feet. ‘Bedtime.’
‘It’s only a little after ten!’
‘I get up early,’ he reminded her, then caught her close and kissed her. ‘Which, as you know perfectly well, is nothing to do with it.’
It was a wrench to part with Lucas early next morning. Emily clung to him as they said goodbye, as though they were parting forever.
‘I’ll ring you tonight—and every night,’ he said huskily. ‘Take care of yourself, please. Don’t fall down any more stairs.’
She nodded dumbly, trying to smile, and Lucas kissed her again, then with reluctance broke away. ‘See you in church, darling.’
On the way down to Chastlecombe by train later Emily tried hard to dispel the uneasiness she felt as each mile took her farther away from Lucas. There was absolutely no reason for it, she told herself irritably. Her mother had everything well in hand for the small reception, a ravishing dress hung in her wardrobe at the cottage; the result of an expedition to Knightsbridge wi
th Ginny, and this time next week she would be on her honeymoon.
Doing her best to shake off her blues, Emily hugged her father when he met the train and chatted brightly to him on the drive back to the cottage, where she found her mother in the kitchen, making preparations for dinner.
‘You look tired,’ Claire Warner told her daughter. ‘Sit there and watch, darling. Richard, you can make some tea, if you would.’
Emily did as she was told, enjoyed the meal later, and afterwards spent half an hour talking to Lucas on the phone. But once she was in bed, sent there early by her mother to get a good night’s rest, she tossed and turned for most of it, her fey mood back in full force once she was alone.
For the next couple of days Emily tried hard to throw off her mood and show enthusiasm for the preparations, but halfway through the week, glad to escape for a while, she told her mother she had to make a swift trip to London for a few things she’d forgotten to pack for the honeymoon.
‘Stay the night with Lucas, then,’ said her practical mother. ‘No point in wearing yourself out with two journeys.’
When Emily let herself into the familiar loft late that afternoon she realised, with a pang of disloyalty, that already it felt far more like home than her parents’ cottage. In the master bedroom all was tidy, with Lucas’s luggage standing by the bed, waiting to be packed. Emily took off her coat and kicked off her shoes. She would do something about a meal later. She let herself down on the bed, clutching Lucas’s pillow to her chest, and surrendered to an overwhelming desire for sleep.
Emily woke reluctantly, fighting with whoever was trying to take the pillow away from her.
‘Darling, wake up,’ said Lucas, something in his voice cutting through the fog of sleep.
Emily sat up, smiling guiltily. ‘I know I should have rung to tell you, but—’
‘Never mind that.’ He sat down beside her, his eyes searching as he took the hand wearing the ring they’d chosen together. ‘Tell me what’s wrong, Emily. Have you changed your mind?’
Now she was fully awake Emily saw that Lucas was as white as his shirt. ‘About marrying you? Absolutely not!’
‘Thank God for that,’ he said, relaxing slightly. ‘Forgive me for pointing out the obvious, darling, but you’re not supposed to be here. Luckily, I rang the cottage before I left for home tonight, so I knew you’d made a sudden decision to come to London for the day.’
She nodded. ‘There’s something I have to tell you. Before the wedding, I mean.’
‘You’re worrying the hell out of me,’ he said with sudden violence. ‘For God’s sake, tell me!’
‘Sorry. It’s just that I’m pregnant,’ she said baldly.
‘Pregnant?’ Lucas stared at her blankly. ‘How? After what happened the first time I’ve taken every care not to put you at risk again.’
‘I went to see Dr Hall on my way here today, Lucas; the one who came when you were ill. She said I’m six weeks pregnant.’
They gazed at each other in silence.
‘So it happened that night, after all,’ said Lucas slowly. ‘But I thought—’
‘So did I,’ said Emily. ‘The usual signs appeared, as I told you, but nothing like normal, which I put down to the shock of the fall. But I knew something was wrong. If you remember, I was very clingy when you left on Monday morning. I felt so off-colour I thought I was sickening for something. Then, after supper last night, I was beginning to pack for the honeymoon and found the pregnancy test I’d never used. When it showed positive I thought I’d better get someone to confirm it, so I made an appointment with Dr Hall and came on here to give you the news.’
Sudden comprehension dawned in Lucas’s eyes, and he pulled her into his arms and held her cruelly tight in silence.
‘Aren’t you going to say anything?’ said Emily after a while.
‘I’m too busy thanking God you didn’t find this out sooner,’ he said hoarsely, and kissed her hard. ‘Otherwise you wouldn’t be marrying me on Saturday, would you? I’d just be a signature on some child-support agreement!’
She shook her head, burrowing closer. ‘I can’t imagine that, now.’
‘Good.’ He tipped her face up to his. ‘Then you’d better bow to the inevitable, bride-to-be. The wedding’s definitely on.’
‘Alice would kill you, for a start, if she couldn’t wear the hat,’ agreed Emily unsteadily.
‘If your brother hadn’t already saved her the trouble!’
They collapsed on the bed together, half laughing, half not, and held each other close in silent thanksgiving for a while.
‘I couldn’t have done it, anyway, Lucas,’ said Emily eventually.
He propped himself on an elbow to give her a searching look. ‘Done what, exactly?’
‘Kept to my obligation hang-ups.’
His eyes lit up. ‘Thank God for that. But why not, darling?’
‘Because I fell head over heels in love with you the first moment I saw you.’ She grinned. ‘Red nose and hacking cough included.’
‘And, ill though I was, I wanted to grab you off my kitchen stool and make love to you there and then,’ said Lucas, inching nearer.
‘Did you really?’ she said, starry-eyed, then sighed heavily. ‘But there’s something else I ought to confess, too.’
‘Oh, God,’ he groaned. ‘Go on. Tell me the worst.’
‘I’ve based the hero of my novel on you. Do you mind?’
He fell flat on his back in relief. ‘Not in the least—as long as he’s tall, dark and amazingly handsome, and the story has a happy ending.’
‘All of the above,’ she assured him. ‘In my fairy-tale, Cinderella will firmly ignore all half-baked principles and marry her prince. If he uses sufficient persuasion.’
Lucas rolled over to kiss her. ‘I’m no prince, darling.’
‘True. But you’re very good at persuasion.’ Emily wriggled closer. ‘I could use some of it now. And I don’t mean friendly persuasion, either.’
‘Good. Because the red-hot passionate kind is the only thing on offer,’ her bridegroom informed her.
‘Bliss,’ sighed Emily, and smiled up at him with such love in her eyes that Lucas closed his for an instant, then kissed her again.
‘I know the happy ever after bit is supposed to start after the actual wedding,’ he said huskily, ‘but for me it began almost from the moment I surprised you in my kitchen, Cinderella.’
‘Same for me,’ she assured him happily. ‘Thank goodness you went down with flu!’
ISBN: 978-1-4268-6708-8
CITY CINDERELLA
First North American Publication 2004.
Copyright © 2003 by Catherine George.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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