The Earl's Complete Surrender

by Sophie Barnes

  Understanding dawned, and James turned to her for a second. “What would you think about marrying me today?”

  She blinked, momentarily stunned by the suggestion. The feeling quickly transformed into one of excitement. “I would love to,” she said.

  With a nod, James addressed the king once more. “Would a special license be possible?”

  The king’s smile broadened. “As it happens, the Archbishop is expected to call on me in half an hour. I’m sure he’d be very happy to oblige.”

  “Promise me that you’ll inform me when you’re next in town,” the king said as they parted ways an hour later. “I would like to host a dinner in your honor.”

  Thanking him again, James helped Chloe into the awaiting carriage before climbing in after her. They sat for a moment in companionable silence while the carriage tumbled along. There was a jolt—­most likely from uneven cobblestones—­and Chloe slid closer, her body pressed quite scandalously against him. He liked scandal though—­especially this kind. Turning his head, he met her upturned gaze. “You’ve done well, my lady. The king agrees.”

  “I’ve hardly done anything at all. Not when compared to you.”

  “Nevertheless, I’m a trained agent and you’re not. I have to say, I’ve been very much impressed by your calm approach to this entire situation.”

  She grinned with a hint of timidity. “Oh, I’ve been anything but calm. I assure you.”

  “Then all the more reason for me to admire you.” His gaze dropped to her lips and he couldn’t help but notice her slight hitch of breath as they parted a fraction. He leaned in, his arm somehow finding its way around her waist and tugging her against him. And then his mouth met hers—­tentatively caressing with all the tenderness he felt for her. She sighed slightly and he kissed her again. It wasn’t a passionate kiss—­there would be time for that later—­but it was a welcome one. It was the sort of kiss that felt like home, as if he’d long ago been promised that he would one day meet a woman like Chloe whom he could love, and now he’d finally found her. It was perfection in every way imaginable.

  Pulling away slightly, he rested his forehead against hers while his finger brushed along her cheek. “Let’s put that special license to good use.”

  Her chuckle sent a hint of air tickling across his jawline. “I’d like that,” she whispered, clutching at the lapel of his jacket and pulling him down for another kiss

  “I know just the place where we can go,” he said, leaning back. “There’s a lovely little church on the way out of town. It shouldn’t take long.”

  “A splendid idea. But what about a witness?”

  “We’ll ask the coachman. I’m sure he’ll be agreeable.”

  The moment Chloe nodded consent, James tapped on the roof of the carriage and issued instructions to the driver.

  The ser­vice was swift, which to Chloe’s surprise was a relief. The last time she’d gotten married, the ser­vice had taken an eternity and there had been an overwhelming number of guests. “I don’t understand all the fuss ­people like to make about weddings,” she whispered to Woodford as they waited for the priest to ready the registry. “It’s such a fantastic expense and with so many ­people present that the one person who truly matters manages to get lost in the crowd. This is perfect—­just the two of us sharing a spectacular moment.”

  “I couldn’t have put it better myself,” he said, lacing his fingers with hers and bringing her knuckles up to his lips for a heartwarming kiss. “Are you happy, Your Grace?”

  “Blissfully so,” she assured him with a smile.

  Later, as they made their way along the road toward Thorncliff, they discussed all that had happened since they’d met and how fortunate it was that they’d both been at Thorncliff at the same time, searching for the exact same book. “Who would have thought?” Chloe said on a sigh as she leaned her head against Woodford’s shoulder. Regardless of his new title, he would always be Woodford to her.

  “Who indeed.” There was a pause. “We’ll have to give everyone a detailed account of what happened as soon as we arrive, though I’m considering not mentioning anything about Lord Duncaster, since we don’t know the extent to which he was involved.”

  “I agree,” Chloe said. “Sometimes it’s best not to stir up the past. Lady Duncaster will only suffer for it and that would be a shame.” She paused a moment before asking, “Do you think they’ll believe us? About the rest of our exploits, I mean?”

  “I doubt it.”

  Chloe grinned. “I think you may be right.”

  “In fact, I’m thinking we should try to sneak our way inside without getting noticed.”

  “What? I’m sure my parents will want to know that I’m back.”

  “Point taken. It’s just . . .”

  “Just?” She didn’t have to look at him to know that his brow was creased in contemplation.

  “Well, I was rather hoping that we might enjoy our wedding night before all the fuss about our adventures and impromptu wedding sets the entire house on edge.”

  “I love that you would think to call Thorncliff a house.” Angling her head, she glanced up at him, noting the slight slant of his lips and the tightness of his jaw. “I can assure you that I am as anxious for our wedding night as you are, my dear.”

  The tension around his mouth eased. “I’m pleased to hear it. In fact, I’ve been sorely tempted to have my way with you right here in this carriage, but I daresay that would be something of a discomfort. Makes me regret using a chaise rather than a landau.”

  Heat rose to her cheeks in response to his wicked suggestion. “I must say that you’ve quite convinced me to delay announcing our return. Perhaps if we continue on to the stables without halting by the main entrance, we can get in through a servant’s entrance instead without notice.”

  “It’s worth an attempt,” he agreed, pulling her close and squeezing her shoulder.

  But when they drew up to Thorncliff after issuing distinct instructions to the postillions, Chloe realized their chance of going unnoticed was nonexistent as a footman posted on the front step conveyed the news of their arrival with a loud shout to the butler. Before they’d made a turn on the driveway, Lady Duncaster appeared alongside Chloe’s parents and Spencer. “I’m sorry, but it looks as though we’ll have to delay,” she told Woodford.

  “What is it they say about good things?” He winked down at her. “It would have been cruel to make them wait for word of your arrival just so . . . well, I’m sure there’ll be time for that later.”

  “Thank you for understanding.”

  Catching a stray lock of her hair, he tucked it carefully behind her ear. “I sometimes forget what it’s like to have anyone worry about you. Forgive me, Chloe, but I was being unconscionably selfish.”

  Her throat worked a little as his words settled over her. “You have me now, but more than that, you have the entire Heartly family, and however troublesome my siblings can be at times, they’re a loving bunch.”

  His eyes shimmered a little as he nodded somewhat awkwardly. He was a true hero, a man who’d prided himself on his ability to not only take care of himself, but to protect others, and now he’d become vulnerable. It had to be difficult. Clasping his head between both her hands, she looked him straight in the eye. “I love you, Woodford. Make no mistake about it.”

  The carriage drew to a halt with a gentle sway. Woodford opened the door and stepped out before reaching back up to help Chloe alight.

  “Good lord, she’s back!” Chloe recognized her mother’s voice and barely managed to turn toward her before being swept into a tight embrace as her mother’s arms came around her.

  “I was beginning to worry that you wouldn’t return in time for my wedding,” Spencer said as soon as her mother had released her.

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Chloe said, “though I must confess
that I have marital news of my own to share with you all.”

  Chloe’s mother beamed while Spencer smiled broadly in anticipation of what Chloe would say next. “I trust you’ve made my daughter an offer that she couldn’t refuse,” Chloe’s father said, addressing Woodford.

  Woodford frowned a little, which was understandable under the circumstances. Taking him by the hand, Chloe faced her family. “Actually, the two of us were wed on our way here.”

  A mixture of gasps, squeals and loud utterances arose from those present. “I’m so happy for you,” Chloe’s mother said. Surprisingly, she was the first to find her tongue. “But I cannot say that I am pleased to be denied the pleasure of planning your wedding.”

  “I’m sorry, Mama, but we just couldn’t wait,” Chloe confessed while her parents and Spencer wished her and Woodford well.

  “I completely understand,” Spencer said. “These past two and a half weeks have been a trial for me to get through. Don’t think I haven’t considered eloping.”

  “You’d best forget about doing any such thing,” Lady Oakland told her son sternly. “We’re going to have a lovely celebration for you and Sarah.”

  Spencer sighed with apparent resignation while Woodford offered Chloe his arm. “Let’s give an account of everything else that’s happened as quickly as possible so we can retire,” he whispered softly in her ear.

  “But it’s only eight o’clock! It’s much too early for bed,” she replied, her own voice equally low so her parents wouldn’t hear their scandalous exchange.

  “When you’re young and in love, as we are, it’s never too early,” he said as he guided her forward, following her parents and Spencer back inside Thorncliff. Discreetly, he brushed his lips against the side of her neck, sending frissons of heat straight to her bones. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Chloe.”

  A surge of warmth curled its way through her. “As are you,” she told him sincerely, not caring that there were witnesses present as she rose up onto her toes and kissed him with all the love and gratitude she felt for him.

  They filed into the nearest parlor where happiness was quickly replaced by wariness when Lady Dewfield appeared, strolling forward with regal poise until she faced Chloe. “Where’s Hains­worth,” she asked without preamble.

  “Not here,” Chloe said.

  She started to turn away but Lady Dewfield caught her by the arm. Her eyes flashed with anger. “You will answer my question satisfactorily, Lady Newbury. I know that he followed you and Woodford to London.”

  “Then why don’t you ask me?” Woodford asked, stepping closer to Chloe.

  A smile tugged at Lady Dewfield’s lips. “My lord.”

  “Your Grace, from now on,” Woodford said.

  Hushed silence settled around them as everyone present absorbed this piece of information. Lady Dewfield’s eyes brightened. “I’ve always liked you,” she purred.

  “In answer to your question,” Woodford said, ignoring her advances, “Hainsworth has been apprehended for treason.”

  A collective gasp rose through the air, though not from Lady Dewfield. Her jaw just tightened while her eyes darkened with uninhibited fury. She glared at Chloe. “First Newbury and now Hains­worth.” She snorted. “From the looks of it, you’ve even managed to snatch Woodford away from me.”

  “Have you no shame?” Woodford asked in a low whisper. “I don’t know what Hainsworth saw in you and I certainly wouldn’t have considered associating with you in any capacity myself.”

  “You’ll never be able to keep him,” Lady Dewfield told Chloe. “And I will never stop trying to steal him away from you.”

  “You won’t succeed,” Chloe told her stiffly.

  “I’m sure you had similar thoughts about Newbury in the beginning,” she countered.

  “That’s quite enough,” Lady Duncaster said, stepping forward so she could join the conversation. “I won’t allow you to bully my guests.”

  “I beg your pardon,” Lady Dewfield said, “but Lady Newbury—­”

  “The Duchess of Stonegate,” Woodford bit out.

  Lady Dewfield bowed her head in acknowledgment of the title. “Very well, Your Grace, the Duchess has wronged me, and I demand satisfaction.”

  “That’s absurd,” Chloe’s father said from his position by the fireplace.

  “I doubt you’d think so if you were in my position,” Lady Dewfield said with a theatrical sniff.

  “Hainsworth was a traitor—­a murderous scoundrel,” Woodford said. “Her Grace may have helped me discover that, but I am the one who shot him and had him apprehended. You cannot blame her.”

  “Very well,” Lady Dewfield acquiesced, “but she did steal Newbury away from me, and now you.”

  “As I’ve said, you had no chance where I am concerned.”

  “And yet I voiced a distinct interest in you and now look where we are. She’s happily married again to a man on whom I’d set my sights.”

  Chloe drew a shuddering breath. “That is not the way I see it.”

  “Of course it isn’t,” Lady Dewfield hissed. “You were the belle of the ball in your first Season—­a diamond of the first water—­while I was stuck in my widow weeds after my husband’s recent death. Newbury didn’t give me the chance I deserved—­not when you kept appearing at his side with your batting eyelashes and blushing cheeks.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Chloe said, cringing at the image Lady Dewfield presented.

  “It was exactly like that,” she said with a glower. “You chased him with the sole purpose of winning him for yourself, heedless of anyone else’s feelings.”

  “You don’t have to listen to this,” Woodford said, stepping between Chloe and Lady Dewfield. “If I may, Lady Duncaster, I would like to suggest that Lady Dewfield be escorted up to her room and that she depart Thorncliff at the earliest opportunity.”

  “Agreed,” Lady Duncaster said.

  “Not before she gives me what I want,” Lady Dewfield said, pointing a finger in Chloe’s direction. “I told you that I demand satisfaction and I shall have it, for all the pain you’ve caused me over the years.”

  “This is madness,” Chloe murmured as her mother came to stand beside her.

  “I’m challenging you,” Lady Dewfield announced. “We’ll duel tomorrow at dawn.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” Chloe’s father asked.

  “Pick your weapon,” Lady Dewfield said, crossing her arms.

  Stepping aside, Woodford faced Chloe. “You can apologize. Nobody will think less of you for it.”

  Chloe considered her options. Woodford was right, and yet . . . “I can take her,” she whispered. The moment she said it, she knew not only that she was right, but she also felt an immediate thrill of potential victory rushing through her. She’d just been given the chance to beat the woman who’d humiliated her for so long.

  “Let’s think about this,” Woodford cautioned.

  “There’s nothing to think about,” Spencer said, voicing his own opinion in the typical fashion of an older brother. “My sister isn’t going to duel against you, Lady Dewfield.”

  “Yes I am,” Chloe said. The room fell completely silent. “We’ll fight with swords until first blood if that is acceptable.”

  “Woodford . . . Your Grace,” Spencer said. “Can you please talk some sense into your wife? She’ll listen to you, I’m certain of it.”

  Stepping closer to Chloe, Woodford put his arm around her. “She’s made her choice, Spencer, and I trust her judgment.” Chloe’s heart swelled with love for him as he looked her in the eye. “Will you let me be your second?”

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  “It’s settled then,” Lady Dewfield said. Turning her back on them all, she chuckled as she glided from the room.

  “Dear me,” Lady Duncaster s
aid. “It seems that Thorncliff has become quite the center of excitement.”

  “This,” Chloe’s father said, “is the sort of excitement I’d rather do without.”

  Nobody argued with him on that point.

  Later that evening . . .

  “It’s not too late for you to back out of this,” Woodford said as he walked up behind Chloe.

  Standing by the window in the bedchamber they now shared as husband and wife, she stared out at the garden beyond. It looked so peaceful—­the water of the lake completely still, like a pane of glass. “You said that you trust my judgment. Have you changed your mind?”

  “No,” he said, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. She leaned back against him, reassured by his solidity. “I’m just worried for you. That’s all.”

  A new and unfamiliar sensation for him, no doubt, considering he’d never really had to worry about anyone else before. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “It’s not to the death, after all.”

  His arm came around her in a tight embrace. “I know, but I still don’t like it.”

  “Do you know what I like?” she asked, turning in his arms.

  “Me?” His eyes were warm like drops of melted caramel.

  She smiled. “I more than like you, Your Grace.”

  “Really? Tell me more.”

  Her smile widened. “I love you with all that I am. What I like and appreciate—­what makes me love you even more—­is that you’re willing to let me do this. I doubt that any other husband would, and if I weren’t married, I’m confident that my brother and father would have me locked away to prevent me from meeting Lady Dewfield tomorrow.”

  His hand touched her cheek. A soft caress that turned her insides to honey. “As you’ve probably realized, I’m not like most men.”

  “And I am grateful for that.” Rising up on her toes, she pressed her lips to his.

  “Having had the profession I’ve had,” he said when she sank back down on her feet, “I find it difficult to relate to most of Society’s strictures. They just seem so insignificant when compared to what you and I have just been through, for instance. More importantly, perhaps, I understand why you feel the need to do this.”