by Lauren Smith
Lydia smiled at Madeline in the reflection of the mirror. “You did a marvelous job as a mother figure.”
Her sister-in-law smiled. “Thank you for saying so, but you know what I mean. You were always very good at taking care of yourself, even at a young age.”
Lydia kept quiet. Somehow it didn’t sound as though Madeline was paying her a compliment. She was getting at something.
Madeline stirred on the bed. “Sometimes I think you grew up far beyond your time. You learned about loss too early with the death of your parents and, though Daniel and I did our best to be there for you, we often were not due to our profession.”
Lydia gave her sister an understanding smile. “Madeline, I wanted for nothing. I’ve always known that I have you and Daniel. I’ve never wanted for more.”
Madeline let out a huff of breath. “Yes, but you deserve more.”
Lydia blinked at her, stunned by the earnestness in the other woman’s voice.
Madeline reached out and grasped one of her hands. “You deserve a family of your own, and a marriage with a man who loves you.”
Lydia stiffened. “That’s not Gabriel.”
Madeline’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Are you quite certain, dear? I saw the way—”
“It’s not.” Lydia swallowed down a lump in her throat and softened her tone. She even managed a small smile when she added, “Besides, I got over that silly crush ages ago. You know that.”
Madeline looked unconvinced. “Yes, but—”
“No buts,” Lydia said, turning back to the mirror. “Gabriel does not care for me in that way and I don’t harbor those feelings for him either. There’s nothing more to be said.”
“Then why do you think he proposed?” Madeline asked.
Lydia looked down and briefly shut her eyes. Her sister-in-law could have no idea how much her questions were hurting her. “He was well aware of my actions these past few weeks,” she said. “I’m sure he blames himself since he seems to think he’s still my makeshift guardian.”
“I don’t think he sees you as his ward, Lydia.” Madeline’s voice was soft, gentle, and it was nearly her undoing.
“It doesn’t matter.” There was no way she could last much longer, not while maintaining her sanity. “If you don’t mind, I’m quite exhausted, as I’m sure you are too.”
Madeline took the hint and stood. Before she left, she turned back in the doorway. “Be careful, Lydia.”
“I’m always careful,” she said out of habit more than anything else.
Madeline frowned. “I meant, be careful with your heart. I’m afraid we’ve raised you to keep it guarded—for good reason, perhaps, but good intentions often come with unintended results.”
Lydia flashed back to Gabriel’s stern expression as he’d offered to marry her. She knew all about good intentions. Madeline gripped the edge of the door. “There’s a time and place to let down your guard, dear. There are times when the reward is worth the risk. And finding someone who truly loves you for all that you are…” She gave Lydia a small smile. “That is definitely worth the risk.”
Lydia nodded and returned the smile even though her heart felt as though it was breaking all over again. She knew her sister-in-law meant well. Good intentions at work, yet again. But she’d only made the pain that much worse. Because she’d misconstrued the situation entirely. This wasn’t like her love affair with Daniel. Yes, Gabriel might love her in his way. And he accepted her for who she was, which she would always treasure. But he didn’t love her like a man should love his wife. For her there would be no happy ending and no reward worth the risk.
Chapter Fourteen
Gabriel listened as the last door shut in the small, drafty house. He and Wren were sharing a small room off the kitchen while General Watters took the spare bedroom. Wren was already asleep but Gabriel knew he’d never drift off despite the overwhelming exhaustion.
Her face. Those eyes. His heart might as well have been ripped out of his chest at the look he’d seen there. Stunned horror.
Ah hell, she’d misunderstood. It was his own fault. He’d been too much of an ass to do it properly. No, that wasn’t it. He’d been afraid. Him. The big bad commanding officer who made grown men quake.
He’d known what he needed to do and Daniel’s anger had been the perfect opening. He’d decided during that last kiss that he wouldn’t let her out of his life. Not now when he knew that he needed her. And she needed him too, not that she’d ever admit it.
He was far from romantic but even he could see when love was staring him in the face. She was his love, and she was more than that. She was his one chance at a happy, fulfilling life. One with a family and laughter and joy. And sure, there would likely be a good amount of mischief and adventure and worry for her life. Because there was no way she would change and there was no way he would want her to.
She was perfect…for him, at least. Maddening and crazy as she might be, there was no denying that she had been made for him. They fit together, two pieces of a jagged and broken puzzle. Perfect in their imperfection. She brought joy and life into his mundane existence and now that he knew he needed her, what had he done? He’d driven her away.
He rubbed a hand over his eyes, which were gritty and stinging from lack of sleep. It had been a stupid impulse. Everything in him had been telling him to hold on tight. To make sure she didn’t leave him. When Daniel had brought up the damage to her reputation, he’d seen the answer clearly.
He had to marry her. He needed to marry her. He wanted to marry her.
But he’d gone about it all wrong.
Fool.
He muffled a groan as an image of her shocked expression flickered through his mind’s eye. He knew what she’d thought. That he was only saying he’d marry her out of some sense of obligation. When, in fact, those words coming out of his mouth might have been the most selfish of his life.
He’d barely given her reputation a thought. If he was being honest, he barely gave her wishes a thought. He hadn’t let himself take that into consideration for one moment because if he had… If he had, he would never have done it.
She might have wanted to marry him, but that was before. Before the kisses and the touches, which had unleashed a storm of emotions. On his end, at least. She’d wanted a simple, efficient, convenient marriage. One that didn’t entail kisses or touches, and she sure as hell wouldn’t want to hear about his emotions.
So instead of doing the right thing, the gallant thing, and stepping aside so she could have her loveless marriage, he’d attempted to force her hand.
Fool.
As if anyone ever could force Lydia Ashford’s hand.
Of course she’d said no. Obviously she’d walked away. She’d most likely seen the force of his passion and had lost interest. He’d scared her away.
He stared up at the ceiling. That didn’t quite make sense. Lydia didn’t scare, at least not easily. She was quite possibly the bravest woman he’d ever met. Hell, she was braver than most men he’d met.
So why had she run?
A flicker of hope had him sitting upright, all thoughts of sleep forgotten as his mind latched on to the possibility. Had she been horrified by his makeshift proposal because she didn’t want to marry for love…or because she did?
His heart was beating rapidly as he threw off the covers and hastily threw on the shirt he’d discarded. He couldn’t wait. He had to know. If the answer was what he feared—that she’d changed her mind about wanting to marry him now that she’d gotten a taste of his true feelings—well then, at least he’d know for certain. The pain wouldn’t be any worse for hearing her say it aloud.
But if his hope had merit… He slipped out of the little room and up the staircase, his mind latching on to the thought that had given him hope. That maybe, just maybe, she felt the same. Maybe she’d changed her mind about what kind of marriage she wanted. After all, he’d done a piss poor job of it all around. He hadn’t told her of his change of heart. They’
d exchanged some kisses, that was all. She would have no way of knowing what was in his heart.
It was the dead of night but he knew she would be awake. Still, he hesitated outside her door for a heartbeat. The hope had taken hold and grown roots. He’d been lying to himself when he’d thought that the pain couldn’t be worse for hearing her speak the truth. If the truth was that she still only wanted a marriage of convenience, or that she had no romantic feelings toward him…that pain would be unbearable.
Bracing himself against her door, he took a deep breath. He’d already acted stupidly out of fear once tonight, he wouldn’t do it again. If there was ever a time for courage it was now, facing this woman.
His woman.
He didn’t knock before entering, not wanting to risk waking the others on this floor. He’d gone no more than two feet into the room when he felt the cold, sharp edge of a dagger at his throat.
“Damn it, Lydia, it’s me.”
She hesitated for a second too long and when she dropped the knife it was with a sigh. “What are you doing here?”
He shut the door behind him and she lit a candle. As the flame flickered into life, his breath caught in his chest at the sight of her in her nightgown with her hair in a simple braid.
He could not lose her.
She was everything to him. More precious than his own life.
Bloody hell, he would never get through this if he kept getting distracted by romantic notions. She was turning him into a goddamn poet.
She was waiting for an answer, her arms folded in front of her chest, which, he noted, was barely concealed by her night rail. Oh Christ, if he made it out of here without losing control and sweeping her into his arms, it would be a miracle.
His gaze met hers and he winced. Her eyes were cold, her face set. She didn’t want him here. That flicker of hope fizzled and for a moment he wondered if he’d been mad when he’d thought of it.
But he was here now, and he had nothing left to lose. Not exactly heartening, but it spurred him on to start speaking. “Lydia Ashford, will you marry me?”
He wasn’t certain who was more surprised. Judging by her eyes, which were wide with shock in the candlelight, she had not expected that. But neither had he; it had slipped out. It was the proposal she’d deserved earlier and she still deserved it now, whether she wanted it or not.
She sputtered for a moment and he allowed himself the briefest of moments to revel in the fact that for once he had managed to throw her off guard and not the other way around. He saw her answer before she said it. He couldn’t hear her rejection again. Not without a fight. Before she could speak, he closed the distance between them and cupped her face in his palms, holding her steady so he could read her eyes. She was an artful, accomplished liar but she never had learned how to hide the emotions in her eyes.
“Before you answer that, I need you to know the truth.”
She blinked up at him, her eyes still wide with surprise.
“I don’t want to marry you to save your reputation,” he started. “Or because it’s sensible, or could help my career, or because you want your freedom.”
His breathing halted as her tongue flickered out to lick her lips. Dear God, he wanted to crush her to him and make her his own. But not until he knew if she felt the same.
“Then why?” she whispered. The hint of vulnerability in her gaze made his heart clench painfully. He never wanted to see her doubt herself. Not with him, not for anyone. She was everything and she should know it.
He leaned in closer so she could read his gaze. She’d always been able to see through him, to read his truth—it used to drive him crazy but he hoped like hell she could see the truth now. “Because I love you.”
Her eyes widened and her lips parted. For the first time in forever, he saw her truly exposed. He saw the truth clear as day in her eyes and it slayed him.
She loved him too.
She didn’t say the words, but it didn’t matter. Relief and joy swept through him so quickly he was drowning in the unfamiliar emotions. He crushed her to him, his mouth claiming hers once and for all. She was his, just like he was hers. Forever.
She moaned beneath the onslaught but she was kissing him back. Urgent and fierce, her kisses told him everything he needed to know. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, but that wasn’t enough. He needed to be as close to her as humanly possible.
His hands were everywhere at once. He was insatiable with need. Now that he’d admitted the truth, he couldn’t believe it had taken him this long to realize it. And now that he knew she felt the same, he couldn’t wait to make her his own.
She pulled back gasping. “Wait, wait.”
He stilled, a sudden panic gripping him. Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe what he’d seen in her eyes was just desire. Lust. But her next words killed his fears before they could take hold.
“I need to tell you,” she said. She took a deep breath and leaned back far enough so she could meet his gaze. “I love you too. I always have and I always will.”
Warmth spread like honey, awakening a soft side of him he’d hidden even from himself. A tenderness he hardly recognized made his throat tighten as he pulled her against him. “Lydia Ashford,” he murmured in her ear. “You never answered my question.”
He heard the smile in her voice as she nuzzled his neck.
“Will you marry me?”
She let out a little huff of laughter as her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. “You know, when I asked that you rejected me outright.”
She was teasing him and he knew it but he was in no mood to be teased. Holding her tighter against him, he growled her name.
Her laughter eased some age old tension. Walls he’d erected long ago were coming down and for the first time in a long time he was…dare he say it…happy.
“I think we ought to discuss the parameters of this arrangement,” she said, her voice filled with laughter.
His growl deepened as he crushed her to him, reveling in the feel of her body against him. She tipped her head back, her eyes fluttering shut as she waited for him to kiss her.
Just before his lips met hers he realized that he might just be the luckiest man alive.
Like déjà vu their kiss was interrupted.
“Gabriel!” Daniel’s voice was too loud in the quiet of her room and he pulled back with a wince.
Lydia let out a sigh as she rolled her eyes. Never looking away from his gaze, she called out to her brother who hovered in the doorway. “It’s all right, Daniel. We’re getting married.”
Gabriel grinned. He was dimly aware of Daniel’s voice. He was giving them his approval, though no one had asked for it. All he cared about was being alone with this woman—his woman—so they could start the rest of their lives together.
Lydia’s answering smile was sweetly, and uncharacteristically shy. When Daniel finally took the hint and left, he wasted no time pulling her back into his arms. “Let’s try this proposal again,” he murmured as he dropped kisses along her jawline.
“They say the third time’s the charm,” she said, her voice breathless with desire.
“Lydia, my exasperating, amazing, one-of-a-kind little friend… Will you marry me?”
She pulled back just long enough to smile up at him and he saw all the joy in his heart mirrored there. “Yes.” Just before he kissed her again, she added, “I thought you’d never ask.”
Thank you for reading The Reluctant Bride! For updates on Maggie Dallen’s latest historical romance releases, subscribe to her monthly newsletter at http://eepurl.com/dgUNif
Keep reading for a sneak peek of the first book in her new Devilish Lords series, A Rake’s Ruin.
Chapter One
Chapter One
Claire Cleveland watched from the upstairs balcony as the guests clustered on the dancefloor below. Everyone was here, it seemed, either to revel with the Earl of Davenport and his new bride at their newfound wedded bliss or to gawk at the reformed rake and his scanda
lous wife.
The scandalous wife in question was Claire’s younger sister Anne, the new Countess of Davenport. Their other sister, Georgie, was the first to say what Claire was thinking. “I do believe your first ball is a success, Anne.”
Anne wrinkled her nose. “Are you quite certain?”
Claire patted her arm reassuringly. “Without a doubt.” She knew what this ball meant to her sister. Anne and her husband, Frederick, were trying to turn over a new leaf within society. Her husband, who’d long been known as the Devil of Davenport, had decided to reform his image and attempt to become an upstanding member of society.
And all because of her sister.
Claire shook her head now, still in shock all these weeks later at the sudden change of fortune in their lives.
Anne was lovely, no one could doubt that. With her fiery red hair and her pretty figure, she was a beauty beyond compare. But, despite that, no one had thought for a second that she would marry well—certainly not well enough to save their family from the debts their eldest brother, Jed, had gotten them into with his gambling.
For though she was beautiful, Anne was one of the younger Cleveland siblings, which meant her parentage was up for debate. In fact, in Anne’s case, there was no doubt that she was illegitimate, despite the fact that their father had taken her in and their mother had raised her as one of her own. But of course, that was only common knowledge within the family. No one openly acknowledged her illegitimacy in society, but the whispers had been enough to damn her from the start.
As the only one of the siblings to have a spotless reputation, it had been assumed that Claire would be the one to marry well and, hopefully, save their family and their home. But as luck would have it, the earl—who Anne had picked out for her to marry—had fallen head over heels for her sister, and vice versa.
Even now, she caught Anne’s gaze flickering to her husband down below as he made the rounds and, more shockingly, made nice with the ton.