Married By Midnight

by Julianne MacLean

  Anne smiled tenderly at him. “I am sure time will tell all.”

  Garrett sighed and continued to stroke her shoulder. “Yes. We simply have to live. Seek out our destinies. In the meantime, I feel very blessed. And inspired.”

  She lifted her head and rested her chin on her hands. “About the future?”

  “Yes. I know now that I want to enrol in Kings College to study medicine, if they will have me. I know it is not quite the proper thing for the son of a duke, but we must remember that I am actually the son of a doctor, and I feel compelled to follow in his footsteps. Perhaps that is my true destiny. I respect Dr. Thomas a great deal, Anne. He is a brilliant man.”

  “And your mother loved him once, didn’t she.”

  “I suspect she loves him still,” he replied, “but she will never again be unfaithful. I didn’t tell you every detail of our conversation that day, but I wish to tell you now. She said that marriage is sacred, and she prayed that none of her children would ever feel a need to stray from their spouses—that we would marry the true mates of our souls and love each other until the end of time.”

  Anne thought about the duchess. “How sad that she did not marry the true mate of her soul.”

  Garrett pulled her closer into the warmth of his embrace. “I believe she has come to accept that sometimes, things happen for a reason—even difficult things. I also believe that despite everything, she loves her husband, and he loves her very much in return. Time has tempered the turmoil of their early years, and after almost losing her, he did become a better husband. But first and foremost, she is devoted to this family, each and every one of us.”

  “But poor Dr. Thomas,” Anne said.

  Garrett was quiet for a moment. “There is no doubt in my mind that he still loves my mother and always will. I believe he would walk through fire for her. He is a very honorable gentleman, selfless in every way.”

  Anne gazed lovingly into Garrett’s eyes. “I would walk through fire for you as well. And I will have no problem living up to your mother’s expectations of loving you selflessly, until the end of time. I will be very proud if you become a medical man. I cannot imagine a higher calling.”

  “Higher callings aside,” he said with a flirtatious smile as he leaned up on an elbow, rolled her over onto her back, and kissed her collarbone. “We will no doubt need the money.”

  A knock sounded at the door. They both lifted their heads.

  “Who in the world would be interrupting us now?” Garrett said.

  “It must be important,” Anne suggested.

  Garrett laid a quick kiss on her breast. “Don’t move. Do not leave this bed. I will be back in an instant.”

  “I assure you,” she replied as she watched him shrug into his robe, “I have no desire to go anywhere.”

  He crossed the room, opened the door a crack, and peered out. Anne heard him say, “This better be important. We’re rather busy at the moment.”

  There was some whispering, and Garrett glanced over his shoulder at her.

  Anne sat up in the bed.

  Garrett slipped out into the corridor.

  Hastily, she reached for her dressing gown and padded to the open door.

  Garrett was standing in the hall with Devon and Blake. They appeared to be looking over a document.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  They all turned to look at her. No one moved. Garrett looked stricken with shock.

  “This is quite unbelievable,” he said. “I am not sure what to make of it.”

  Anne strode a little closer to look at the document. He held it up to the light from the window at the end of the corridor.

  “Is this our wedding certificate?” she asked.

  “Yes. It’s dated yesterday.”

  Startled by the implications that flashed through her mind, she squinted to look at it more closely.

  Devon inclined his head at her. “To be clear, we do not believe the vicar was trying to commit fraud. He must have prepared all the papers yesterday and forgot to change the dates.”

  Anne laid her hand on Garrett’s shoulder. “What does this mean? Will you submit these papers to the solicitors?”

  The brothers regarded each other warily.

  “That would be dishonest,” Blake said.

  “It would be pure madness,” Garrett added. “But no more mad than the curse that will somehow, ridiculously, hold up in court if we scratch out those dates and tell the truth.”

  Anne frowned with concern. “What about the duke? He watched us get married today. What if he tells someone?”

  “I don’t think he even knows what day it is,” Devon replied. “Today he was happier than I’ve ever seen him. The curse was the last thing on his mind. I’m not sure if he even remembers that he bequeathed his fortune to the Horticultural Society.”

  Anne and Garrett locked gazes. “It is not my decision,” she said to him. “This is your fortune, you and your brothers.”

  His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. “God knows, if I had it, I would put it to good use.”

  He was referring to the fund he wished to bestow upon Georgina’s parents. And his mother’s charities. And Kings College.

  “I wish Vincent were here,” Devon said.

  Blake looked over the marriage certificate very carefully. “He doesn’t need to be here. We all know what he would say.” He tapped a finger on the seal. “No one can deny this is a legal document. So is the license.”

  “So we should simply submit it to the solicitors, say nothing, and let them deal with it?” Garrett surmised.

  They all looked to one another for clarification.

  “That seems the proper thing,” Devon said.

  Another moment of silence ensued.

  Blake patted Garrett on the back. “Good heavens. We have disturbed your wedding celebrations. Incidentally it’s almost time to dress for dinner. Devon and I must go.”

  Anne watched her brothers-in-law make haste toward the east wing. She then discreetly tiptoed back into the cozy bedchamber where the fire was blazing, and waited for Garrett to close the door behind him.

  With his eyes closed, he leaned against it and tipped his head back. “Another Christmas miracle.” He lifted his head and regarded her with an intense look of lust in his eye. “This is because of you, isn’t it? You truly are an angel sent from heaven.”

  Anne’s eyebrows lifted, then she burst out laughing. Garrett ripped off his robe, ran naked toward her and scooped her into his arms. She screeched with a boisterous trill as he carried her back to the bed for a few more enjoyable miracles before the sun went down and it was time for Christmas dinner—which promised to be a most delectable meal.

  “I can’t believe how much I love you,” he said, as he smiled down at her and showered her with hot, deliciously wicked kisses.

  She held him tight in her arms, thanked God for the incredible gift of this man in her life, and wondered recklessly how long they could go without eating.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you so much for reading MARRIED BY MIDNIGHT, the fourth instalment in my Pembroke Palace series—which was a long time coming. It is now 2012, and book number three (WHEN A STRANGER LOVES ME) was published in 2009. I apologize for the wait, but I hope it was worth it! I certainly enjoyed writing Garrett’s story...finally.

  If you are interested in reading the other books in the series (all full length novels), here they are in chronological order:

  IN MY WILDEST FANTASIES (Devon and Rebecca)

  THE MISTRESS DIARIES (Vincent and Cassandra)

  WHEN A STRANGER LOVES ME (Blake and Chelsea)

  Charlotte’s story is in the works and I am aiming for a release in 2013. I don’t have a title yet, but if you would like to stay informed about the exact release date and be the first to see the cover art, please visit my website, http://www.juliannemaclean.com, and sign up for my mailing list. I would love to send news to you.

  In the meantime, read on for
an excerpt from my upcoming release PRINCESS IN LOVE, part of my Royal Trilogy set in the Regency period, published by St. Martin’s Press. It hits bookstores everywhere on October 30, 2012 (and contains a cameo appearance by the Duchess of Pembroke from an earlier generation).

  Best wishes and happy reading!

  Julianne MacLean

  PRINCESS IN LOVE

  She’s engaged to be married—to the wrong man...

  The Royal Trilogy continues in this sensational new novel from bestselling author Julianne MacLean

  Leopold Hunt, Marquess of Cavanaugh, is a secret Royalist with a distant hereditary claim to the throne. He has been groomed to one day overthrow the king and rebuild his family’s dynasty. Only one thing stands in his way: the king’s daughter, Rose.

  Princess in Love

  Princess Rose has loved the marquess her entire life. But she is about to enter a political marriage—one that promises to help keep her father in power. There is virtually no way for Rose to escape her fate...yet she cannot resist the unstoppable passion she feels in the arms of the handsome and charming marquess. When a dangerous plot unfolds and puts their love to the ultimate test, Leopold must make a desperate choice: To honor his family or follow his heart...

  Excerpt from PRINCESS IN LOVE

  Copyright Julianne MacLean 2012

  Prologue

  Briggin’s Prison, Petersbourg

  January 1815

  She’d always known life did not follow a straight or predictable path—it was riddled with unexpected twists, turns, and steep inclines—but never had Rose Sebastian understood that fact as well as she did on the day her world turned upside down and her heart was smashed to pieces.

  As the uniformed guard led her down a steep set of spiraling stone steps that seemed to go on forever into a hellishly dark dungeon in the very guts of the earth, Rose wondered if she would ever look back on these events and understand why it all happened the way it did. Would she ever let go of the regret? Would she ever be grateful for the cruel lessons that had been forced upon her?

  The guard continued down a long stone corridor with torches blazing in wall sconces. The hay-strewn floor was wet beneath her feet. She had never ventured this deeply into Briggin’s Prison before. How medieval it seemed. The air was cold and damp and made her body shiver.

  At last they reached the cell at the end of the corridor, and the guard lifted the bar on the heavy oaken door. It creaked open on rusty iron hinges.

  “He’s in here, Your Highness. Shall I accompany you, or do you wish me to wait outside?”

  Rose hesitated. Of course the guard must wait outside, for there were intimate matters to discuss with the prisoner.

  The prisoner. Dear God, what if she lost her temper and struck him? Or worse, what if she took one look at him and desire still burned, despite everything he had done?

  “Wait outside, please,” she firmly replied, moving toward the threshold. “Shut the door behind me and bar it. I will knock twice to signal when I am through with him.”

  She handed the guard a ten-pound note—a small price to pay for his silence—then took a deep breath and steeled her nerves as she entered the prison cell.

  The door slammed shut behind her, and she jumped at the sound of it—like a judge’s gavel—while her gaze fell upon the man she had come here to confront.

  He was already standing in the center of the cell as if he had known it was she outside the door. She, who had once adored him. Trusted him. Desired him.

  He wore the same fashionable clothing from a few short hours ago when he was arrested in the palace courtyard and dragged away for high treason and attempted murder.

  For he had tried to kill her beloved brother, the king.

  Her heart squeezed like a wrathful fist in her chest, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe.

  “You seem surprised to see me,” Rose said, lifting her chin and resisting any urge to rush forward into his arms and beg to hear that he was safe and unharmed, but his welfare did not matter. She should not care about that. He deserved to rot down here with the rest of the rats, and she hoped he would.

  “Yes,” he replied. “And no, because all I’ve done since they dragged me here was pray you would come to me. I could think of nothing else.”

  Rose scoffed. “There it is again. The flattery and seduction. Did you imagine I would learn of your peril and try to rescue you? Did you think I would drop to my brother’s feet and beg him to set you free because I had fallen in love with you? Even after what you did to my family and how you used me?”

  He stepped forward, but she held up a hand. “Stay where you are, sir. I know everything. My brother told me of your plot to replace him on the throne. I know how you came to the palace to win the queen’s affections. I know that your father has been planning your marriage to her since the day you were born so that you would one day rule this country at her side. You have been deceiving us all, and for that reason I came here to tell you that anything I felt for you in the past is annihilated. Nothing I said remains true any longer for I was misled, and I certainly have no intention of helping you escape your sentence, whatever it may be.”

  He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re lying. If you felt nothing for me, why did you come here? If I did not matter to you, you would simply watch my head roll.”

  Her fury erupted again, for he was not wrong. She was not indifferent, but damn him for recognizing it. Damn him for pointing it out.

  The chill of the prison cell seeped into her bones, and she rubbed at her arms. “I will never forgive you,” she said.

  He stared at her. “Yes, you will, Rose, because you know I am innocent.”

  She felt nauseous suddenly. A part of her wanted to weep at the loss of him. Another part of her wanted to strike him and shake him senseless until he confessed that he had treated her wrongly and that he was sorry. That he regretted all the lies and betrayals, and that this was all just a bad dream.

  “I know no such thing,” she replied nevertheless. “My brother was poisoned with arsenic just like my father, who is now dead. You of all people know how much I loved my father. Yet you, as a devout Royalist, were behind the plot to kill him.”

  He made a fist at his side. “No, I knew nothing of that, just as I knew nothing of the attempt on Randolph’s life. I love you, Rose. You know that. You know I would never do anything to hurt you.”

  He tried to move closer again, and what was left of her heart split in two. He was still the most beautiful man she had ever known, and despite all her cool, contemptuous bravado, she could never forget the passion they shared, how his touch had ignited her whole world into a boundless realm of happiness.

  But she must push those memories aside, for she was devastated by his betrayal and by the total destruction of her first love.

  How could she have been so foolish? How could she not have seen the truth? How would she ever recover from this?

  “Please,” he said, spreading his arms wide in open surrender. “Tell Randolph I had nothing to do with the arsenic. I confess I was raised as a Royalist, and yes...my father wanted to remove your family from the throne and I was involved in that. But since the day we met on that muddy road in England, Rose, I have cared less and less for politics and thrones. I fell in love with you. You know it in your heart.” He inhaled deeply. “Speak to Randolph on my behalf. Tell him I am sincere. I knew nothing of the attempt on his life or your father’s murder. Treason, yes...I am guilty of that. I was part of the plot to take back the throne, at least in the beginning, but I am no killer.”

  Her heart was beating so fast she feared she might faint, but it was not like before, when her heart raced simply because Leopold Hunt, Marquess of Cavanaugh, entered a room. This was different. Everything had changed. She was not the same naïve girl she was six months ago. The trust was gone. She must smother all that remained of her foolish infatuation.

  “It will fall on the court to determine whether or not you are a killer,”
she told him. “I cannot help you in that regard, for clearly I am incapable of sensible judgements where you are concerned.”

  “That is not true.”

  A part of her wanted to believe him, but she clung to the dark shadow of contempt that had taken over her soul.

  “Yes, it is,” she replied, “for you were the worst mistake of my life.”

  All the color drained from his face—as if she had thrust a knife into his belly.

  “I pray you will not feel that way forever,” he said.

  She laughed bitterly. “Why? So there might be a chance for us? Or perhaps you hope my feelings might change in time to reduce your sentence?”

  “It has nothing to do with that.”

  For a flashing instant, her thoughts flew back to that muddy road in England when the world was a different place and she still believed in heroes and fairy tales.

  She quickly pounded the life out of that memory and kicked it into a deep grave.

  “If I must repeat myself, I will,” she replied. “I want nothing more to do with you, Leopold. I want to forget what happened between us and move on with my life. I wish you luck in the trial, but I will not be here to witness it, for I will be leaving Petersbourg as soon as possible. I intend to marry the Archduke of Austria as planned.”

  “Rose, wait...”

  Again, he took a step closer but she swung around, fearful that he might touch her, hold her, weaken her resolve. She rushed to the door and rapped hard against it with a tight fist. “Guard!”

  The bar lifted and the door opened. Rose rushed out.

  “Is everything all right, Your Highness?” the guard asked, looking more than a little concerned.

  “I am fine,” she lied.