A Most Peculiar Season Series Boxed Set: Five Full-length Connected Novels by Award-winning and Bestselling Authors

by Michelle Willingham

  “Prove it!” Clarissa spat.

  For an instant Annabelle’s uncharacteristic air of bravado slipped. She glanced toward the back of the church as if hoping for reinforcements to ride to her rescue.

  But all was quiet.

  Then a thought struck Jack like a bolt of divine lightning. “We do not need to prove it.”

  Both women turned to stare at him, one face aglow with hope, the other clouded with dismay.

  “Sarah is living in my house, under my protection,” he continued, growing more assured with every word. “If you mean to take her from me, the burden of proof will be upon you to verify in a court of law that you gave birth to her.”

  Clarissa’s face turned such a violent shade of red, Jack feared her head might explode. “You will not get away with treating me this way—either of you! I shall make certain everyone in Society knows you breached your promise to me, not to mention what was going on between you before I arrived on the scene. You will never live down the scandal I shall unleash upon you!”

  Much as he cherished the hope of keeping little Sarah, Jack shrank from the prospect of doing Annabelle’s reputation any further harm.

  Yet Clarissa’s threat did not seem to perturb her in the least. “If you do any such thing we shall be forced to expose your conspiracy with Lord Hawthorne to perpetrate a fraud on Jack.”

  Hawthorne? Was that blackguard involved in this as well? For the first time Jack understood how badly he could have been duped.

  “I doubt it would benefit your livelihood,” Annabelle continued, “if word got around that you blackmail your former patrons. If you give him any more provocation, I suspect Jack might be inclined to press charges.”

  “No! You must not!” Clarissa suddenly appeared more intimidated than enraged. “Please, Jack. I did not mean any harm, I swear. I would have been a good wife to you and a loving mother to the child. This was all Lord Hawthorne’s idea. He heard that we had once been intimate and approached me with details to persuade you I was the baby’s mother. When I tried to back out, he threatened to have me exposed. I believe he meant to extort money from me to keep my secret once you and I were married.”

  Jack’s fists clenched. If Lord Hawthorne had been within reach he would have thrashed the villain again—even in a house of worship.

  “Go!” He spat the word at Clarissa, sickened by the thought of how close he’d come to disaster and how ill he had used Annabelle once again. “Before I think better of having you prosecuted. I will deal with Hawthorne as he deserves.”

  “Yes, of course.” Clarissa beckoned her maid and fled the church, giving Annabelle as wide a berth as she might a growling tigress.

  As the two women’s hasty footsteps retreated into the distance, the vicar let his prayer book fall shut with a sigh. “I take it you will have no further need of my services.”

  Jack shook his head. “Not today certainly.”

  He fished in his pocket and took out the sum he’d intended to present the officiant at the end of the wedding ceremony. The vicar protested but was soon prevailed upon to accept it. Like Madame Reynard, he retreated with some haste, perhaps fearing Jack might change his mind.

  A discreet nod from his master made Godfrey steal away until only Jack and Annabelle remained in the sanctuary. How long would she stay now that her mission was accomplished and his family saved from the machinations of Clarissa and Hawthorne?

  Overcome with a painfully intense mixture of emotions, Jack staggered backward and sank onto the nearest pew. To his surprise, Annabelle took a seat beside him. For a time they sat in silence. There was so much to say, Jack did not know where to begin.

  When Annabelle spoke at last her words further dumbfounded him. “I am so sorry for destroying your dream of a happy family. I hope in time you will understand that it was only a dream. The reality would have been nothing like you hoped, but a living nightmare for you and Sarah. I had to wake you from the dream to save you from the nightmare. But I will understand if you cannot forgive me.”

  Her husky voice trailed off in a sigh so sad and sweet it moved him almost to tears.

  A single tear fell from the corner of Annabelle’s eye and rolled down her cheek, leaving a trail of warm brine in its wake. She did not wipe it away. That side of her face was turned from Jack and he would never know if she did not betray herself.

  She had forced him against his will to confess his true feelings for her. But in doing so, had she crushed the very emotion she’d exposed? She had used his love for her as a weapon to shatter his precious illusion that the child he adored was truly his daughter. How could Jack ever be able to forgive her for that?

  She’d given herself noble motives for her actions, but how sincere were they? Had she truly wanted to protect Jack and Sarah, or out of selfishness could she not bear to see him with anyone else? The latter was probably closer to the mark than she wanted to believe.

  What did that say about her love for him? If that love was genuine, should she not have wanted him to be happy whatever the cost to herself? Instead she had ruined his happiness as surely as if she’d taken a brickbat to a room full of delicate porcelain.

  No doubt she’d been wrong to linger in his company after all the others had fled. Jack must want her gone too, so he could grieve in private for all her actions today had cost him. Or did he suppose she had stayed to gloat over his misery?

  She rose to go but barely gained her feet when his hand shot out to grasp hers.

  When Jack spoke, his voice sounded gruff with emotion... but which one? “You say you are sorry for what you did just now and doubt I can forgive you?”

  Annabelle gave a guilty nod even as she sought to imprint the sensation of his warm grasp upon her memory. “I know it is too much to ask.”

  Jack shook his head. “A trifle. But all you would have to forgive me is more than I dare contemplate or it will break my heart.”

  His words went straight to her heart, with a restoring, healing touch, promising to make it whole again.

  “A trifle,” she echoed his answer as ripples of laughter and tears shook her all at once. “More than that, perhaps. But well within my power, I assure you.”

  Her knees gave way. As she sank back down, Jack pulled her toward him. She ended up on his lap, cradled in his arms.

  His lips grazed her cheek, tasting her tears. Then they found hers and exchanged a tender wordless conversation about their feelings for one another.

  “How could you possibly still care for such a blockhead?” he asked at last between kisses. “One who blinded himself to your feelings and his for all those years?”

  His question required an answer in words. Annabelle pressed her forehead to his and immersed herself in his warm hazel gaze. “Who knows why any person loves another? We give ourselves reasons, but in the end I believe it is more than the sum of them.”

  Jack nodded, moving his brow in a subtle caress against hers. “You are a wise lady. Whatever it was that made you care for me and continue to care in spite of my stubborn folly, I am grateful for it beyond anything I can tell.”

  A smile spread over Annabelle’s face like the glow of summer daybreak on a wildflower meadow. Her heart brimmed and overflowed with joy. Whatever the future might hold, it was enough just now to know that Jack did love her and recognized her love for him.

  He brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen over her forehead. “Will you come back to this church with me in a month’s time and pledge that love for the future? Nothing would make me happier than to have you for my wife.”

  Only one consideration made Annabelle hesitate. “If it is a mother you want for Sarah, I will come back to Bruton Street and care for her as long as you wish. You need not wed or seduce me into it.”

  A fleeting shadow dimmed his gaze. “I love Sarah as if she were my daughter. The fact that she is not will do nothing to lessen my attachment. I will raise her until her parentage is discovered. Even then, I will only give her up to a family who ca
n care for her as I do. My proposal to you has nothing to do with any of that, unless you object to my plans.”

  “I do not object in the least.” Annabelle pulled his hand toward her lips and strewed it with kisses. “That is precisely what I would do if I were in your place.”

  Jack released a long slow breath. “Then what do you say? Will you marry a man who loves you with all his heart? Or must I seduce you into accepting my proposal?”

  Tenderness and desire pulsed through Annabelle with every beat of her joyful heart.

  “Yes to both,” she replied with a wanton chuckle. “But only one of them here in church!”

  Epilogue

  Carleton House, London ~ June 1811

  “TO THINK I was so impressed by the Cheviot’s ball.” Annabelle Warwick’s gaze darted this way and that as she and her husband made their way through the dense crowd attending the Prince Regent’s grand fete. “This puts that splendid evening quite to shame.”

  Jack glanced down at his wife with a grin of such transparent happiness he feared he must look positively besotted, though not a drop of spirits had yet passed his lips. “This is by far the most lavish celebration I have ever attended and I suspect most of the Regent’s other guests could say the same.”

  The tension in Annabelle’s slender form relaxed visibly. “Perhaps everyone is too overawed to notice me. We have been here for over an hour and I have not gotten a single scandalized look from anyone.”

  “Did I not tell you what a quick death tattle dies these days?” Jack steered her away from the crowded salon where the Prince’s newly acquired painting by Rembrandt had drawn many guests. “No doubt there was some speculation when our marriage was announced so soon after banns had been read for Clarissa and me. Everyone probably assumed I came to my senses at the last minute, which is near enough to the truth.”

  In no other public place could they have dared to speak of such private matters without fear of being overheard. But with over two thousand guests invited, not to mention the small army of servants required for an event of this magnitude, a quiet conversation between a couple was quite drowned out.

  They peeped into the ballroom but found it too crowded to enter, let alone dance. Jack seized two cups of punch from an elaborate silver salver carried by a footman wearing royal livery. Everything about this ball was elaborate, from the quantity of flowers festooning every room to the array of jeweled decorations on the Regent’s scarlet military tunic.

  Annabelle took a tiny sip of her punch, perhaps cautious not to repeat her past experience imbibing spirits. “I suppose that is one benefit of your aborted betrothal. Compared to a notorious courtesan, your cousin’s penniless widow must seem an altogether respectable choice of bride.”

  Jack chuckled as he drank in the sight of her. For him Annabelle eclipsed all the gilt and jewels and extravagance that surrounded them. He could scarcely believe the happiness their marriage had brought him. It was like a delicious, hearty banquet of bread and meat, after a diet of insubstantial confections that melted on the tongue but left the belly hungrier than ever. “All I can say is that you were the best choice for me, my darling—the only true choice my heart would ever accept.”

  The most beguiling blush mantled her cheeks, making him ache to set tongues wagging by taking her in his arms then and there for a deep, passionate kiss.

  Before his self-control deserted Jack altogether, a familiar figure stumbled past them, moving in the opposite direction of most other guests.

  “Where are you headed, Gabriel?” Jack called to his friend, who seemed oblivious to their presence. “You look like a fish trying to swim upstream.”

  Gabriel had returned to London late on the day of Jack and Clarissa’s aborted wedding to report that he had pursued Miss Brennan from the Channel Isles, to Brighton and Bath. Though he had not succeeded in catching up with the lady, he had become convinced that she was trying to conceal a scandalous secret.

  “I feel certain Sarah must be our child,” he’d insisted. “I am sorry for you and Annabelle, knowing how attached you have become to her. I promise I shall find a way to compensate you for the expense of raising her. And I will not ask you to give her to me until I can provide her with a proper home.”

  Difficult as it was for Jack and Annabelle to contemplate giving up the dear child one day, they sensed she would be happiest knowing her true parents and making a home with them if possible.

  Now Gabriel paused and caught his breath. “I caught sight of Moira Brennan a few moments ago. I must speak to her before she eludes me again!”

  “Are you quite certain it was she?” Jack exchanged a doubtful glance with Annabelle. “I understand the Prince invited no one beneath the daughter of an earl. Miss Brennan may be heiress to a great fortune, but she has no title.”

  Gabriel refused to listen. “We both know there were as many exceptions to that rule as adherents. You for example. Besides, Miss Brennan has titled relations on her late mother’s side. It was her, I tell you! I would recognize her anywhere.”

  “I know you would.” Annabelle raised her voice. “I could pick Jack out of a crowd of thousands.”

  Jack’s heart ached to contain a surge of tender gratitude for his wife. No one had ever loved him as she did. Now he was determined to repay her devotion a hundred times over.

  Casting her a doting smile, he addressed his friend. “If you are quite sure Miss Brennan is here tonight, we will do whatever we can to help you find her.”

  Gabriel shook his head. “I appreciate your offer but Annabelle has never seen Miss Brennan and you only once or twice. How could you hope to pick her out in this multitude? Even if you did, how would you find me again to report her whereabouts? Leave that task to me while you enjoy your first outing as a married couple.”

  As he prepared to depart, Annabelle offered a suggestion. “Rather than trying to track a moving quarry through such a crowd, you might have better success if you wait until all the guests are seated to dine.”

  Gabriel thought for a moment. “I say, that is a good idea. If I do not catch up with Miss Brennan before supper, I shall do what you advise. Now if you will excuse me...”

  The next thing Jack knew, his friend disappeared through an opening in the crowd.

  “Do you suppose he will find her?” Annabelle asked. “After all this time, it does seem as if the lady has been trying to avoid Gabriel.”

  Jack nodded. “Even if she is here tonight, I do not believe it would be the best time for him to broach such a delicate subject. Now, shall we venture out to the gardens? The atmosphere here in the house is altogether oppressive. I do not envy the Prince’s select guests who must dine inside tonight.”

  “Nor do I.” Annabelle raised her fan and fluttered it in front of his face to create a welcome breeze.

  Many of the other guests seemed to have the same idea. They dispersed to the gardens, where four enormous banquet tents had been erected. Each had its own buffet and its own set of musicians playing.

  In the light that spilled out from one of the tents, they spied Rory Fitzwalter in the distance. He was accompanied by two handsome women of mature years, one on each arm.

  Jack grinned and shook his head. “I hear Rory has reformed his gambling habits. I suppose it is too much to expect him to turn over a new leaf entirely.”

  “Why?” Annabelle challenged her husband with a teasing chuckle. “You have.”

  Since their marriage, she often told Jack how proud she was of his transition from a notorious rake to a respectable family man.

  He could not deny that the changes he had made were a source of considerable satisfaction to him as well. “But my dear, we must not hold Rory to such a high standard. He lacks the powerful incentive I have to cherish a life of blissful domesticity.”

  “Your reformation has not impaired your gift for flattery, my dearest.” Annabelle’s distinctive voice rustled in a delightful manner that was beyond even his power to praise. “But I am content to let
it flourish, provided you confine its exercise to me alone.”

  “On that you have my word, my angel.” Taking advantage of the garden’s concealing shadows, Jack raised her gloved hand to his lips.

  There were times when the power of his feelings for Annabelle almost frightened him. Yet when he reflected on everything she had endured for his sake, he knew his heart would be safe in her keeping.

  As they stood together savoring each other’s company, the high, clear notes of a soprano aria drifted through the warm night air. The hum of conversation quieted as the Prince’s guests paused to listen. Shortly after the last notes died away, a shrill whistle pierced the air followed by a muted bang. Bright yellow light splashed across the dark sky overhead. More brilliant fireworks followed in vivid paint-box colors. Some whirled in glittering spirals, others exploded in great bursts. Still others rained down like falling stars.

  Impressive as the display was, Jack found himself more enthralled by the glimpses of Annabelle’s face, bathed in the colored light from above. Whenever a particularly dazzling sequence of fireworks lit the sky, she squeezed his hand and gave a delighted gasp. Sharing in her pleasure amplified his.

  As soon as the fireworks ceased, the Regent’s guests flocked to the banqueting tents. Clinging tight to Annabelle’s hand, Jack sought out the least crowded tent and led her to a quiet corner... but not quiet enough. An old acquaintance noticed them and called out to congratulate Jack on his marriage.

  Their brief conversation drew the attention of a handsome couple standing nearby. Once it ended, they approached Jack and Annabelle. The lady had golden hair and features of rare beauty. The tall, rugged gentleman, who accompanied her, seemed ill-at-ease in court dress.

  “Mr. Warwick?” the lady ventured. “I beg your pardon for presuming to speak to you without an introduction, but I must take this opportunity to extend you my sincere thanks.”