Season For Desire
Page 26
“Yes. But eager though I am to begin, there are a few things I’m even more eager to do. First we shall get a special license, if your father is willing to put in a good word with the Archbishop of Canterbury.”
“If he will not, Walpole will,” Audrina said. “My new brother-in-law seems eager that his wife’s family should be happy.”
“What a bright fellow. Your sister has chosen well.” Giles flexed his hands. “I also wish to consult a physician about the pain in my hands and wrists, as long as I can locate a medical man who doesn’t think leeches and galvanic shocks are the cure for every malady.”
“I am no medical man—”
“Thank goodness.”
“But I think I have an answer that will help.” She slid away from him on the squabs and took one of his hands in hers. Pressing at the center of his palm, she worked at the joints until he sucked in a sharp breath.
“Yes. Yes, you do. Now stop that or I’ll ravish you in the carriage.”
“Is that meant to make me want to continue, or to stop? Because it’s having the former effect.”
Giles shut his eyes. “I can’t tell the driver to go around the square again. I cannot. Cannot. Cannot. Others will notice.”
“All right. Goodness. I am beginning to suspect that you are not as improper as you pretend to be,” she teased, releasing his hand. “What after Surrey, then? Shall we see the world?”
“We might be able to see more of England first, if that’s all right with you. My aunt, Lady Fontaine, cannot navigate her own home because she uses a wheeled chair. A nephew with some knowledge of building might be able to figure out ways to amend the structure for the sake of her comfort.”
“That sounds like an excellent notion. I should like to see you make peace with your mother’s relatives.”
“Yes, I’d like that, too.”
“There must be other such families,” Audrina said. “Like Lord and Lady Dudley, perhaps. Families who need a bit of change in order to be comfortable in their homes. A man of connections—with an earl’s family on the distaff side and a marquess’s on his own—could surely find those people.”
“I’ll give it my all, though whether in England or America, we won’t be a wealthy pair,” Giles warned. “I know you say you don’t mind, but we’ve just seen your sister wearing a fortune in silver silk.”
She waved a hand. “You forget about my dowry. It won’t yield income enough for a life in London society, but it will keep us comfortable. Think of yourself as my courtesan.”
He choked. She grinned.
“It would be my honor,” he said, “to see to your pleasure. Oh, damn—we’re going to have to send the carriage around again. I’m in no fit state to climb out.”
Audrina laughed. “And to think, when we first met, you said you were the end of my adventure.”
He pressed a kiss to her lips, one full of tenderness and desire. “And so I shall be. But I hope for now, and for many years to come, that we’ll share a new one together.”
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Japanese artifacts would have been rarities in Regency England, because until the 1850s, Japan was almost completely closed to Western trade. But through Dejima, an outpost in the port of Nagasaki, Dutch merchants—such as those in Lady Beatrix’s background—were permitted to trade with the Japanese on a closely monitored basis.
In reality, the type of Japanese puzzle box that plays such a significant role in this story—the himitsu-bako (“secret box”)—didn’t develop as an art form until about a century after Lady Beatrix’s puzzle box made its way westward. But certainly a gifted artisan could have made a puzzle box in an earlier year. Historical romance characters often benefit from the possible, which gives much more scope for storytelling than the likely or the everyday.
A few medical notes: The term arthritis has been in use for joint pain since the 1500s, though it’s not likely a Regency physician would have been able to distinguish between different types. Lady Beatrix—and her sister, Lady Fontaine—suffered from rheumatoid arthritis, an autoimmune disease that can strike at any age. Giles fears he has inherited that tendency, but his own joint pain is due to something many computer users are familiar with: carpal tunnel syndrome. The symptoms can mimic those of arthritis, but unlike his mother, Giles would have been able to make a complete recovery with rest and care.
On a more festive note, Regency Christmases were simple compared to the elaborate celebrations of the Victorian era (not to mention today). The tradition of Christmas trees hadn’t yet begun, but perennial favorites such as carols, puddings, evergreen garlands, and—of course!—mistletoe were all part of the holiday observances at the time. Other practices have gone by the wayside; for example, the huge Christmas pie of a half-dozen meats that Mrs. Booth proudly prepared. You can find a historic recipe for that pie, along with free stories and other short reads, on the Extras page of my website at theresaromain.com.
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2014 by Theresa St. Romain
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-1-4201-3245-8
First Electronic Edition: October 2014
eISBN-13: 978-1-4201-3246-5
eISBN-10: 1-4201-3246-6