She watched, her head spinning. He could be her salvation. The answer to her prayers. “No. Stop.”
He turned to her. “It is the only way.”
“That is not true. I can go elsewhere. Someplace Uncle Silas will not be able to find me.”
“And what of Sophia? My daughter loves you. I can see it in her eyes, hear it in the things she says.” He took hold of Emma’s shoulders, studying her. “You heard her tell me that she wished for you to be her mother.”
A rogue tear left Emma’s eye, gliding down her cheek.
“Can you deny that you love her as well?”
Emma shook her head.
He wiped the tear from her cheek. “Can you deny the attraction between us? The passion in our kisses?”
“No.” Emma answered, her voice raspy.
“Nor can I.” He brought his lips to her in demonstration, kissing her until her knees threatened to give out. “Marry me, Emma. Say you will.”
The fight had left her the minute he brought his mouth to hers reducing her to a puddle of desire. All she had left to do was accept her fate. She nodded. “I will.”
Chapter 7
Aaron led his bride from the family chapel. He’d hastily gone to London and secured the special license the very moment she consented to the union. He wasted no time upon his return taking Emma, Sophia, the nanny, and his butler to the chapel without even changing from his traveling clothes.
He had all he needed: his bride, daughter, and two witnesses along with the minister. There was no reason to delay the wedding and every reason to be hasty about it. It was not until the minister pronounced them husband and wife that he was able to relax. And now, his steps were light, his heart filled with joy, as he led Emma and Sophia from the chaple.
“Are you truly my mama?” Sophia beamed up at Emma.
Emma’s own smile rivaled the sun as she kneeled down to met Sophia’s gaze. “I am.”
Aaron’s heart nearly burst when Emma took Sophia into her embrace. His daughter would never again ache for a mother’s love. For that reason alone, he believe that he and Emma would come to love each other and they would all have a happy rest of their lives, together as a family.
“And I always will be, Princess.” She dropped a kiss on Sophia’s head. “Now let us return to the house so that we might celebrate this most joyous of days.” She kissed Sophia then released her from the embrace. “As I recall you have a surprise for your daddy.”
Sophia took Emma’s hand and they all continued to the carriage. A newfound pride swelled inside of Aaron as he watched the spring in Sophia’s step and the glow on his wife’s face. He did not quite understand how he’d come to be here, but he did know he wouldn’t wish it any other way.
Sophia chatted excitedly on the short ride back to the house while Aaron sat beside Emma holding her hand. Once inside, they went to the dining room where he had ordered their wedding breakfast to be served. White and red flowers decorated the doorway, the corners of the room, and the table just as he’d instructed.
Grinning, he glanced at Emma hopping she would be pleased and the joy in her expression did not disappoint him.
“Do sit, Daddy.” Sophia quickly made her way around the grand mahogany table to find her chair.
Aaron did his daughter’s bidding, moving to take his own seat. A large covered silver platter sat in the middle near the head of the table. He glanced between it and Sophia before reaching out his hand. It must be her surprise for an entire breakfast for three would not fit in it. He took hold of the platter cover’s handle then stilled. “May I.”
“Please do.” Sophia beamed.
He lifted the cover to reveal a grand three tired cake frosted white and decorated with ribbons and pink flowers—Sophia’s favorite color. Could it be? He looked to Sophia. “Is this the cake you made with Emma?”
“The very one.” Sophia nodded her head, her eyes brimming with excitement. “Let us try it, Daddy.”
Aaron motioned a servant forward but before he could cut the cake, another servant swept into the room.
“Your Grace.”
Aaron angled his head toward the footman who’d disturbed their celebration. “Yes.”
“I am sorry to interrupt this most joyous of occasions, however, we have an issue in the foyer that requires your immediate attention.”
Aaron nodded, then rose from his chair exchanging a knowing glance with Emma. Her Uncle and the baron had returned. It seemed they had wed just in time to prevent the men from taking Emma. He forced a worry free continence and turned to Sophia. “I shall return in a moment’s time, Poppet.”
“As will I.” Emma stood, moving toward the door. “We won’t be long.”
Sophia nodded, reached out swiping her finger into the frosting. “Do, hurry.”
When Aaron stepped into the foyer with Emma on his heals he found exactly what he’d expected. The Baron and Emma’s uncle along with a constable.
Her uncle glared at him, a stack of parchment in his hands before turning to the constable. “That is her.”
The constable stepped forward and bowed. “Your Grace, I am afraid this woman belongs to these men.She will have to leave with them.”
“But you are mistaken.” Aaron reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved their marriage certificate. With a cocky grin, he handed it to the constable. “She is legally wed to me and therefore will not be going anywhere.”
The constable drew his brows together, scrutinizing the document. His cheeks colored as he handed it back before turning to the other men. “It seems you have no claim on her.”
“Bullock’s,” Lord Windham exclaimed. “I have a betrothal agreement.”
“There is no crime in breaking a betrothal. Besides, it means nothing when the lady is already married.”
“That license is a fraud. I demand you return her to me this instant.” Lord Windham’s face burned red. “Baxter do something this instant.”
Emma’s uncle stared after them, his jaw a gape.
The constable handed the license back to Aaron, then turned on Lord Windham. “I am afraid not, my lord. The document is legal and binding. They were wed this very morning by authority of the Arch Bishop of Canterbury.” He placed a guiding hand on Lord Windham’s arm. “You have no grounds to contest the union.”
Aaron smirked in triumph. “If you will excuse us. My wife and I have much to celebrate.”
The constable turned back to them and gave a bow. “Of course, Your Grace, Duchess. I am most sorry to have interrupted.”
Aaron placed a protective hand on Emma’s back and began leading her away.
“You will pay for this Silas! Arrest him at once.” Lord Windham’s shrill voice filled the space.
Emma looked back, causing Aaron to stop. He saw the sorrow in her eyes and it tugged at his heart. How could she care what happened to her uncle after what he’d put her through? The man should rot in debtor’s prison for the rest of his miserable life.
He swallowed back his objections determined to see her happy. After all it was her kindhearted nature that endeared him to her. Leaning in close, Aaron asked in a low voice, “Do you wish to help him?”
She nodded, a flicker of hope passing through her gaze.
“Then consider it done.” He released her and went to stand beside the constable. “There is no need to arrest anyone.”
The Baron sputtered. “Ignore him. This man owes me a great debt that he is unable to settle. I demand you arrest him at once.”
Aaron pulled a satchel from his pocket and flung it at the Baron. “There is your coin.” He peered at Baxter. “You will never set foot near Emma again.”
“I understand. Th…thank you, Your Grace.”
“Do not thank me. It is Emma you owe your gratitude to. I’d have let them hang you for what you’ve done.” He turned his back giving the cut direct and swept Emma back into the dining room. He’d not waste one more precious moment of their lives on the nefarious me.
“We’re back, Princess,” Emma said as they strolled through the door.
“Now let us have cake,” Sophia said, a heaping piece already set before her.
“Indeed.” Emma took her chair, then lifted her fork and stuck it into the decadent slice that had been served for her.
Aaron brimmed with pride, love, and hope for their future as he joined in. Somehow, everything would fall into place. He simply knew it would.
Chapter 8
Nine months later
Aaron cuddle Sophia on his lap, more content than he could ever recall being in the past. As he had suspected, everything had worked itself out. Now he had more than any one man had a right too; a wonderful daughter, loving wife, more coin than most of his peers, and twins on the way. He was a lucky man indeed.
“Daddy, tell me a story.”
He grinned, bouncing her on his knee. “Which one would you like to hear?”
“The one about the long haired lady.” Sophia snuggled against his chest as he began.
“There once was a beautiful woman with hair the color of spun gold that reached well past her waist and a singing voice that rivaled the angels.”
He caught one of Sophia’s curls in his hand and twilled it with his fingers. “A selfish man who could not see her worth sold her to an equally villainous man who locked her away. Only she was far too smart for the unscrupulous men. One day she found a way to escape, hiding herself away in a stranger’s coach.”
Sophia rubbed her fingers back and forth across his collarbone, a small sigh drifting from her lips.
“The woman had found her way into a duke’s carriage, though she did not know it at the time. When he discovered her he could not help but offer his assistance.”
Aaron trailed of as someone entered the room, delicate footfalls giving them away.
“Together the duke and the fair haired woman stopped the villains, saving each other and earning their happily ever after.” Emma finished the story coming to stand beside the chair, her hand resting on his shoulder.
Sophia glanced up, understanding dawning in her gaze. “Mama, you are the woman in the story.”
Aaron chuckled, “Indeed she is.”
“I knew it.” Sophia grinned, climbing from his lap. She moved to the floor and started playing with her doll.
Aaron stood, coming up behind Emma and wrapping his arms around her waist. He spread his fingers across her swollen belly where his twins grew. Evidence of the love they shared. His heart warmed as it always did when his wife came near.
He bent his head close to her ear, inhaling her lavender scent. “Have I told you I love you today?”
She craned her neck to gaze at him. “At least a half dozen times, and yet I never tire of hearing it.”
He smiled the rakish grin he knew she adored. “Then I shall endeavor to say it a dozen more before the day fades away. And every day here after.” Emma turned in his arms to rest her hand on his cheek and stare into the depths of his eyes. “As will I.”
Excerpt
Explore the rest of the series! Turn the page for an excerpt from book one in Amanda Mariel’s bestselling Fabled Love series:
Enchanted by the Earl
**The Fabled Love series is designed so that the books can be read in any order**
Chapter 9
London 1813
The creak of carriage wheels pulled Rose’s attention away from the garden, where, kneeling in the beds, she inspected the bright blooms she had tended all spring. Lady Julia Thorne’s elegant barouche pulled to a stop outside the cottage Rose shared with her elderly grandmother. Heartbeat accelerating, Rose stood and dusted her hands on her apron, leaving streaks of dirt behind.
A tall gentleman with raven hair and eyes the shade of the mid-summer sky stood near the open carriage door. Rose caught herself staring at the strong lines of his jaw as he handed her client, Lady Julia, down from the carriage.
Her pulse quickened as her visitors drew nearer. She kept her gaze on the gentleman--he was the handsomest she had ever beheld. When he looked her way, Rose's cheeks burned at being caught ogling him so unabashedly. Lady Julia smiled as Rose approached. “Miss Woodcourt, I’ve come to select the cloth for my new frocks. Did you manage to get the samples I requested?”
“I called upon the linen-drapers on Cheapside yesterday,” Rose returned cheerfully. She was always glad to see Lady Julia, who had become much more to her than a client. “Please come in.” Walking up the front walk to her home, she pulled open the weathered door.
Lady Julia moved past her in a swish of green organdy. Her companion stopped on the old plank-board porch. “I’ll wait here if it is all the same to you, miss.” His breathtaking grin revealed straight white teeth.
Rose stared, awestruck by his good looks. The door handle slid from her palm, causing the door to slam. She jumped at the noise, her nerve endings crackling.
He pulled the wooden panel back open, blue eyes twinkling. “Allow me, miss.”
Warmth flooded Rose’s cheeks as she took a step toward the opening. A flush spread to her neck. Taking a breath she inhaled his heady aroma of clover and sage.
“What is your name, miss?”
“Rose Woodcourt.” She glanced at his hand and noticed a signet ring glinting upon his finger. She quickly added, “my lord.”
Of course he was a lord and she a bird-witted fool for reacting so strongly to him. It would best serve her to remember her place in society. Lords did not go about courting common misses. They dallied with them until they grew bored, tossing them aside when the affair no longer held their interest. Rose’s indignation stirred at memories of poor Annie. A rakish earl cast her old friend away after he had gotten her with child. Abandoned and afraid, Annie came to Rose for help. But alas, there was nothing to be done. Annie died bringing forth that odious man’s son.
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Woodcourt.” He offered a smile. “I am Hunter Thorne, Earl of Aubry.”
Rose dropped into a low curtsy, holding his gaze. Try as she might, she could not stop looking at him.
A ball of nerves unfurled in her stomach as she accepted his offered hand. A moment later, she pulled her hand free. “Excuse me, Lord Aubry, but Lady Julia is waiting.”
Upon entering her workroom, she found Lady Julia perched on a faded high-back chair. The sweet aroma of fresh bread wafting through the cottage, coupled with the teacup in Lady Julia’s hand, told Rose her grandmother had seen to Lady Julia’s comfort before returning to the kitchen. “Please forgive my disheveled state. I am afraid I lost track of time.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. Shall we?” Lady Julia smiled.
Rose hurried to her shelves and scooped up several bundles of cloth. “Yes, of course. Here are samples for your consideration.” She placed the pile on her sewing table. “The linen-draper assures me these are the newest available. Some came directly from the Orient.”
Rose watched Lady Julia lift a swatch of blue organdy. The very shade of Lord Aubry’s eyes. The pair shared the same eye color and shade of hair, the same smile. Were they related? As hope set its hooks in Rose’s heart, she cast away her fancies. She should banish him from her mind lest she wind up like poor Annie. “What a lovely shade, my lady.”
Gran’s voice rang out from the entryway. “I said you shan’t disturb Rose. Mr. Wolfe, you mustn’t go in there.”
Good heavens! That reprobate, Dewitt Wolfe, had darkened her stoop again. Would he never leave her in peace?
“Please excuse me for a moment, Lady Julia.” With her heart thumping, Rose moved to the door. Why wouldn’t he leave her alone? She had broken their betrothal and made her position clear. Yet he refused to accept her decision.
Mr. Wolfe stopped mid-step. Gran came just short of colliding into his backside. “Ah, there you are, my dear.” His mouth twisted into a grin. “I have come to--”
Frustrated beyond reason, Rose forgot she had company. She cut him short, speaking sharper th
an she intended. “I know why you have come. You need not go on. I have given you my answer.” As she stared into his beady brown eyes, her stomach roiled. “I will not marry you, Mr. Wolfe.”
Flashing a tight smile, Wolfe marched toward her, his dull brown hair disheveled and sticking out from under his tall beaver hat. “You will marry me.” He reached into his pocket and whipped out a folded document. “I had hoped you would not force my hand thusly.” He held the folded parchment out to her, his darkened gaze bored into hers. “The unpaid mortgage to this humble dwelling, my dear. Should you refuse to wed me, I will sell your home out from under you.”
Rose grabbed the document, peeled it open, and scanned the print. Her stomach rolled over, and a knot formed in her throat. She crumpled the parchment in her fist before glaring at him. “You cannot. This is nothing but a trick. Papa paid off the mortgage years ago.”
“I can and I shall.”
Something sinister flickered in his eyes. His stony glare sent a chill through her bloodstream.
“Do not allow this brute to force your hand, Rose,” Gran said, dabbing her eyes. “All will be fine. Even if we lose the cottage, we will find a way.” Gran shook her head, freeing a few strands of graying auburn hair loose from her bun.
Oh, how Rose wished that were so. But the cottage was all she had left of her childhood and her parents, after the carriage accident that claimed their lives. How could Mr. Wolfe gain proof of an unpaid debt that had been settled years ago? She sucked in a breath and squared her shoulders.
“I will prove this is a farce. My answer is still no. I will not marry you. Please leave us in peace.”
When she turned to walk away, he caught her arm, spinning her back to face him.
“The document is legal,” he sneered. “Your dear father never finished paying his debt. I own this cottage due to the breach of this contract.” He stepped closer. “You should be thanking me for saving you from debtors’ prison.”
Delighted by the Duke (Fabled Love Book 4) Page 5