by Connie Mason
“It is indeed, my love.”
He helped her to sit up. “How …? You’re an earl? I do not understand.”
Lady Bridgeton moved into Willow’s view. “Dariq has always been an earl, my dear. He inherited my father’s title. The legal end took a few weeks to clear the courts, but Dariq is now Earl of Newcastle and can take his rightful place in society.”
Willow looked confused. “But Dariq is already a prince.”
Dariq was still on his knees. He took Willow’s hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. “A prince without a princess. Will you marry me, Willow? Will you be my countess? My life is meaningless without you.”
“Now, hold on a minute,” Bramston blustered. “I’m not sure you’re right for my daughter.”
Dariq sent him a quelling look. “Do you deny that Willow is carrying my child?”
“Well… er… of course not, but—”
“Then I am right for her,” Dariq replied emphatically and turned to Willow. “Will you marry me, my love? I purchased a special license from the bishop and brought Reverend Faraday to perform the nuptials. Your parents and my mother are here, so we need not delay.”
“Perhaps we should leave the young people alone for a few minutes,” Lady Bridgeton suggested.
“I am not sure we should,” Bramston argued.
“Of course we should, Robert,” Monique argued, sending her husband a silent message. “Willow and her Dariq need to talk. Come along, Lady Bridgeton, Reverend Faraday. We shall take tea elsewhere.”
Robbed of speech, Willow merely stared at Dariq. Stylishly dressed, his hair trimmed, he could easily pass as a member of the ton. Though his appearance had changed, his distinctive gray eyes had not. They were now regarding her with concern.
“I am sorry my arrival was delayed, my love,” Dariq explained, “but it took a fortnight to set aside my hurt, gather my wits and realize why you had left me. Pain has a way of overriding common sense. It wasn’t until I decided to follow you that Mother told me about the title waiting for me in England.”
“You really are an earl,” Willow whispered. “At first I thought it was a ploy to get around my father’s objections.”
“Aye, love, I really am an earl. The title is legally mine; I had but to claim it.”
“No more piracy?”
“That part of my life is over.”
“You intend to remain in England?”
“If you consent to be my wife, there is no other place I want to be.” He spread his hand over her stomach. “Why didn’t you tell me about our child? If I hadn’t come to England, I never would have known.” His voice held a note of censure.
“I knew that if I told you, you would never let me go. I gave Papa my solemn promise that I would return to England if he helped you escape. He knew you lived a violent life and feared for my safety. He did not learn about the baby until we were halfway to England. Are you angry with me?”
“Furious. But grateful that I gained my senses in time to bring myself to London and wed you before our babe is born.”
He rose up from his knees, sat beside Willow and gathered her into his arms. He kissed her with such tenderness and love that she felt guilty for the pain she had caused him. But he was alive, and he might not have been if her father had not given his help.
“I missed you, love. Living in England will be a jarring adjustment, but I know I can do it with you at my side. Mother seems happy to be in her homeland again and is renewing acquaintances. They are helping to ease her way back into society. The scandal of her wedding a Turkish sultan has been long forgotten.” He grinned. “In fact, Mother is being actively courted by society matrons eager to learn about her life in a harem.”
“Saliha Sultana deserves happiness,” Willow said, smiling through her tears of joy.
“Her name is Lady Ellen Bridgeton now. Saliha Sultana is a title she will never hold again, just as I exchanged the rank of prince for earl. I am now Lord Dariq Bridgeton, Earl of Newcastle. You will make an exceptional countess.”
There were so many questions Willow wanted answered. “Where is Mustafa? Did he come to England with you?”
“Mustafa is still my trusted friend. He wouldn’t think of letting me come to a strange land without him. You will see him again when you move to my townhouse. I also own a country estate in Kent. I visited it briefly after I arrived in England. It’s being renovated even as we speak. It has a large nursery, which I’m sure you will appreciate.”
“Did Ali Hara and Kamel accompany you to England?”
“They wished to remain on Lipsi and carry on my legacy of piracy under Captain Juad. The captain cannot return to Turkey as long as Ibrahim is sultan.”
“I shall miss them,” Willow said wistfully. She sent him a watery smile. “Though not as much as I missed you. After I returned to England, I had naught but my child to live for. The light had gone from my soul.”
“I am here now, love. Just say the word and Reverend Faraday will marry us. I have the special license in my pocket. Please say yes, Willow.”
Willow searched his face. “Can you truly be happy here? ’Tis not the kind of life you are accustomed to.”
“How can I not be happy? I have you and my mother, and soon our child will make us a family. And I have my ship. I’ve renamed her Lady Willow in your honor. My fortune will let us live in style for the rest of our lives, and the wealth I inherited from my grandfather can be kept in trust for our children.”
Willow touched his face, smiling through her tears. “I never asked you if you wanted children.”
“With you, I do. For the first time in my memory, I look forward to becoming a husband and father. Until you came into my life, my needs were served by concubines.”
Willow slanted him a stern look. “Once we are wed, there will be no concubines or mistresses.”
Dariq’s hopes soared. “Does that mean you’ll accept my proposal?”
She threw her arms around his neck. “I will marry you now, today, whenever you say. I have been lost without you.”
He kissed her with desperate longing; Willow felt the power of his love fill her heart and returned it with the same measure of sincerity.
“Ahem!”
Willow glanced over Dariq’s shoulder at the open door. She broke off the kiss and smiled at her father. He walked into the room, followed in close order by Monique, Lady Bridgeton and Reverend Faraday.
“Have you had enough time to hash out your differences?” the marquis asked.
“We are going to get married, Papa,” Willow said. “I hope you have no objections.”
Dariq stood, facing the marquis squarely. “I love your daughter, my lord. She will not suffer in my care, you can depend upon it.”
“And I shall make sure he keeps his word,” Lady Bridgeton added.
Bramston stroked his chin. “Are you sincere about giving up piracy?”
“Absolutely. My reason for becoming a pirate is no longer valid. I have avenged my brothers’ deaths many times over.”
“Where do you intend to live?”
“If Willow agrees, we can split our time between my country estate in Kent and my townhouse in London. My finances are in excellent order, I can keep Willow in the manner to which she is accustomed.”
“What do you think, Monique?” Bramston asked his wife.
“The earl must love Willow a great deal, to give up his former life and settle in England, Robert.”
“I love Willow with all my heart. You cannot keep us apart. She carries my child—one I want very much.”
“Might I say something?” the reverend interrupted.
“Of course, Reverend, have your say,” Bramston allowed.
“Apparently, your daughter carries Lord Newcastle’s child, would it not be expedient to encourage their marriage?”
“I am not so sure,” Bramston objected. “I want my daughter to be happy, and I am not convinced Newcastle is the right man for her.”
“No man b
ut Dariq can make me happy, Papa,” Willow asserted. “I am going to marry him with or without your approval.”
Monique cleared her throat. “Of course your papa approves, ma petite. Is that not so, Robert?”
Bramston stared at Dariq in silent contemplation before deigning to speak. “It seems you have won over the women in the family, Newcastle. Though I still harbor doubts, you have my consent to wed my daughter.”
The reverend dug in his pocket for his Bible. “Shall we begin?”
“The wedding can wait until Willow changes into something more appropriate,” Monique said.
“My son has waited this long,” Lady Bridgeton replied in agreement. “I am sure he won’t mind waiting a while longer.”
Dariq groaned but did not contradict his mother.
One hour and fifteen minutes later, wearing a sea-green silk gown that matched her eyes, Willow walked down the stairs to join Dariq. Her golden curls had been fashioned in a becoming style atop her head and crowned by her mother’s wedding veil, held in place by a diamond tiara that had belonged to her grandmother.
Dariq saw an angel walking toward him. She looked even more beautiful than she had the first time they’d crossed paths. On that fateful day, she had been ready to do battle with him, her green eyes spitting fire and defiance.
His thoughts scattered when she reached him, love shining in her expressive eyes. Soon this angelic spitfire would be his to love, cherish and protect the rest of his life.
A brief but moving ceremony united them in holy wedlock. Had anyone asked Bramston at that moment, even he would have agreed that his daughter and the pirate prince belonged together.
Bramston’s staff, despite the short notice, had prepared a festive meal to celebrate the nuptials. As soon as possible after the meal, the happy couple took leave of Willow’s family. Hugging her parents hard, Willow left her father’s home with the man she had promised to love, honor and obey until death parted them.
Mustafa was on hand to greet them at Dariq’s townhouse. His welcoming smile cheered Willow. She had missed his large, comforting presence. After introducing the servants to their new mistress, Lady Ellen excused herself and retired to her own apartment.
“I will show you around the townhouse tomorrow,” Dariq said. “I cannot wait to have you to myself.” Sweeping her into his arms, he took the stairs two at a time, arriving in the master suite breathless.
Willow laughed when she saw that the bed had been turned down and the bedchamber was decorated with a profusion of flowers against a background of soft candlelight. “You were pretty sure of yourself, weren’t you?”
“Perhaps I was a bit optimistic. Turn around so I can unfasten your gown. You look exhausted. Perhaps you should go straight to bed.”
Willow smiled at him over her shoulder. “I will go to bed if you join me. This is our wedding night.”
Dariq turned her around, peeled the gown from her and lifted her out of the billowing folds. His gaze fell to her stomach; the bulge appeared more pronounced without benefit of clothing.
“I want to make love to you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life,” Dariq murmured, “but I don’t want to do anything to harm you or our child.”
“Making love will make me extremely happy, and I’m sure our child won’t object,” Willow teased. “Making love is still permissible, if my girth doesn’t disgust you. Mama told me some men are squeamish about touching their wives when they are increasing.”
Dariq pulled her into his arms and caressed her lovingly. “How could you disgust me when ’tis my child growing inside you? Touching you, loving you, is a pleasure I will never grow tired of.”
He carried her to his bed and laid her down. Without taking his eyes from her, he tore off his clothing and joined her. As he made love to her with aching tenderness, kissing her, caressing her, arousing her, pleasuring her, Willow knew their love would survive any adversity fate placed in their path.
Their new acquaintances would know Dariq as an earl, but in her heart he would always be her dearly beloved pirate prince.
Epilogue
Three Months Later
Little Lord Phillip Robert Bridgeton was born on a cool spring day without complications at Bridgeton Manor in Kent. He was perfect in every way, especially to his doting parents. Among those eagerly awaiting the birth at Dariq’s country estate were Mustafa, Lord Bramston, his wife Monique, and Lady Ellen Bridgeton.
A few days later, the Lady Willow sailed to Lipsi to inform those who knew and loved Dariq and Willow of the birth of Prince Dariq’s son and heir, the future Earl of Newcastle.
About the Author
Connie Mason is the New York Times and USA Today best-selling author of more than fifty historical romances. Her tales of passion and adventure are set in exotic as well as American locales. Connie was named Story Teller of the Year by Romantic Times and was also awarded The Career Achievement award in the Western category by Romantic Times.
When Connie was featured on a segment of the CBS news show 48 Hours, the television production devoted an entire program to the romance novel industry.
In addition to writing and traveling, Connie enjoys telling anyone who will listen about her three children and nine grandchildren, and sharing memories of her years living abroad in Europe and Asia as the wife of a career serviceman. In her spare time she enjoys reading, dancing, playing bridge and freshwater fishing. Connie makes her home in Tarpon Springs, Florida. More about Connie can be found on her website: http://www.conniemason.com/