Table of Contents
Title Page
Praise for Jennifer Wenn
The Beauty of You
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
“I’m not angry,” he repeated hoarsely. “Only disappointed.”
“Disappointed?” She stared at him in confusion. “Why are you disappointed with me?”
“Because you are not what I thought you were.”
His strange admission made her frown. “What was I supposed to be, then? As beautiful on the inside as I am on the outside?”
He had at least the decency to blush.
“Something like that.”
She wanted to laugh hysterically. When had her life become this twisted? As ever, it was her bloody looks creating the problem. First it was Lord Nester, possessively estranging her from everyone else to keep her. And now it was her husband who didn’t want her, as she didn’t live up to his high expectations.
“I’m sorry,” she choked, tears filling her eyes.
He made a painful grimace. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”
“Then why do you keep telling me it is?”
“Why? Because you were the one who made this marriage happen, not I. You were the one telling me you didn’t even care if it was me you married. Of course I think it’s your fault. If I’d had any choice I would never have married a woman claiming she doesn’t care if I am the one who is her husband.”
His jaw twitched with every harsh word he spoke, and his whole face became as hard as stone and just as cold. All his earlier embarrassment was long gone, and she knew she had to get away from him before she started to cry.
Because every word he said was true.
Praise for Jennifer Wenn
“Jennifer Wenn weaves a wonderful story centering on love and family…. This is a solid Regency choice.”
~Pauline Michael, Night Owl Romance (3.5 Stars)
“A very well-written Regency tale. The characters are so vivid. They seem about to walk right off the page. Fanny and Devlin are complex and fully developed characters with some interesting quirks. The plot is full of suspense, action as well as romance, with a few interesting twists that will keep the reader on her toes. I look forward to reading more about the Royal family in the future.”
~Maura, Coffee Time Romance and More (4 Cups)
“This was a fantastic book! The plot, the characters, the love, loss, pain, and just everything about life that we know is out there is blended into the pages almost seamlessly as though they were born there. I have no idea what more I can say about this book? Why are you still sitting here! Go and get it, you will not be disappointed!”
~Valkyrie Fatality, Rockin’ & Reviewing (5 Stars)
“I enjoyed the characters and their interactions. Fanny's family is fantastic and it was fun to see how a family of all men deals with the only girl in the family line. I loved the basic plot…a fantastic novel, and I would definitely re-read it.”
~Victoria Lane, The Romance Reviews
~*~
THE BEAUTY OF YOU and NEVER HAD A DREAM COME TRUE are sequels to A FAMILY AFFAIR,
also available from The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
The Beauty
of You
by
Jennifer Wenn
The Royal Family, Book Three
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
The Beauty of You
COPYRIGHT © 2015 by Jenny Wennergrund
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Debbie Taylor
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Tea Rose Edition, 2015
Print ISBN 978-1-62830-707-8
Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-708-5
The Royal Family, Book Three
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To Louise—sister and fellow writer,
a kindred spirit in every way...biatch...
Chapter One
Chester Park, Berkshire, October 1814
“You are despicable!”
Sitting on the bed she now was to call her own, Charmaine looked up into her new husband’s furious face hovering above her.
“I know.” Her clipped voice echoed in the silent chamber, and Sinclair Darling, Earl of Chilton, sneered in disgust.
“How can you sit there without even pretending to be sorry? You were the one who made sure we had to marry, not I. What I don’t understand is why. Why on earth did you want to marry me?”
She wished she could offer him an easy answer to his question, but how could she? She didn’t know what had possessed her to act as she had, and now it was too late for regrets. What was done was done; all she could do now was to see it through.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” His scowl intensified until his dark eyes looked like two pieces of hard coal. “How could you not know? We are husband and wife now—married! Not because I wanted you, courted you, and in the end proposed to you—you know, how normal people commit to each other. No, we are married because you tricked me!”
“I did not trick you...”
“Yes, you did.”
It was no use arguing with him. He was simply too angry with her. Instead of listening to her, he would more likely jump on every possibility to fight verbally with her. He would use that crazy, illogical logic most of the Darlings possessed, and in the end she wouldn’t know what had been said, or why. So, in a desperate attempt to save what was left of her wounded pride, she forced herself to stay quiet.
Growling in frustration over her lack of response, Sin started to stalk across the floor, sending brooding gazes at her every time he passed her. One part of her wished she could give him what he so desperately needed—the truth. But would he listen to her? And more importantly, would he believe her?
“I’m sorry,” she said for the hundredth-plus-one time, and for the hundredth-plus-one time he sneered at her.
“How can you be? You got what you wanted.”
“I didn’t want this.”
He shook his head. “Of course you did. Why else would you have forced a marriage between us? For some strange, inexplicable reason, you wanted me.”
“I didn’t want you.”
That took him by surprise. “You didn’t want me?”
“No.”
“But why…?” His voice trailed off as he tried to make sense of what she was telling him. Or rather, what she wasn’t telli
ng him.
She watched him pace restlessly all over the polished wooden floor, pulling his fingers harshly through his thick brown hair. Overwhelming guilt made her heart ache with compassion for him, too aware of how this was all her fault, not his. Again she repeated how sorry she was, and he sent her another disgusted look.
“Stop telling me you are sorry, because I don’t believe you truly are. You insist you didn’t want this, yet you still remain the sole reason why I stand here before you and have the doubtful pleasure of calling you my wife.”
“I had no choice.” A lump started to build in her throat when he shook his head in disbelief.
“There is always a choice.”
“Not for me.”
Surprising her, he stopped charging around and instead knelt in front of her, enclosing her cold hands in his large warm ones. “Then humor me. Please try to make me understand. Why did you make sure we would be found in bed together by my parents? You knew they would never settle for anything less than marriage, so please don’t say you didn’t plan it.”
It was evident he worked hard to restrain his anger, softening his voice on her behalf. For a moment she wanted to let him lure her into a false sense of security, because it felt good to not live in fear, if only for a second or two.
She had known Sin her whole life, as they had grown up in the same county. Harveyfield, her childhood home, was situated only a short walk down the winding road from Chester Park, the enormous, ancient castle the Darling family—and now she—called home.
They had never interacted before, as he was six years her senior and they had spent their childhood years in different types of schooling, he getting the education the heir to a duke deserved. But as her one-year-younger sister Penelope and his little sister Francesca were close friends, she knew everything there was to know about him anyhow.
Sinclair Darling was a good, decent man and a devoted, trustworthy brother who spent most of his time trying not to crumble under the heavy weight of being the heir to the Dukedom of Berkeley. Maybe that was why she thoughtlessly had put her foot in front of him, forcing him to stumble and helplessly fall down on the bed, landing heavily upon her just as his parents walked through the door.
It was rather odd, though, that marrying him had never been an option to her before. To be completely honest, she had never considered him a possible husband at all. Especially not someone to fall in love with.
Her sister Penelope had once mentioned how Sin had admitted he found Charmaine’s beauty astounding. But she had never thought twice about it. That is, not until the fateful moment when she heard his parents’ voices outside the guest room as he helped her toward the bed. When she’d looked up into his strong, anxious face, she had realized for the first time that she carried her own destiny in her two hands. Or rather her feet.
If she dared…
“Do you know what really baffles me?” Sin continued. “You could have had any man you fancied. You are the bloody Incomparable Queen of the ton, for goodness’ sake! The ballrooms of England are filled with men who would have been more than ecstatic if you had accepted their proposals.”
She tried to look away in a desperate attempt to ignore him, but he grabbed her chin lightly, forcing her to look straight at him. The pain and confusion in his dark eyes overwhelmed her, tormenting her already guilt-stricken heart. But she forced herself to stay serene, coldly meeting his gaze.
“So why choose me?” he continued harshly. “The one man in England who doesn’t want you?”
“I didn’t choose you.”
“So you keep saying, and yet I don’t believe you.” He let her go and stood to continue his restless pacing in front of her. His body seemed filled with an angry energy that desperately needed to come out.
“Then don’t.” She forced her voice to sound as bland as possible and felt almost sorry for him as he rolled his eyes in frustration.
“How can you be this cold? Doesn’t it mean anything to you that the man you now call husband can hardly stand the sight of you?”
Every last part of her wanted to slide into his arms and cry out the truth. She desperately wanted to wipe away every last shred of contempt he felt against her, but she couldn’t. It pained her, but she had to play the part she had played most of her life, The Incomparable Queen of the ton—a selfish and inconsiderate beauty who was too spoiled for her own good.
She needed space and time to think. And the only way to get that was to make him loathe her even more so he would choose to stay out of her way. Seeing this through wouldn’t be easy, but she hoped it would be worth it.
It had to be.
With a quiet sigh, she squared her shoulders and drained her face of all feelings before meeting his dark eyes.
“No, why should I?” She made sure to shrug daintily, seemingly disinterested. “It’s not as if I am the one of us who should be grateful for the gift he has been bestowed.”
He stared at her, openmouthed, clearly not believing his ears. “Are you telling me I should rejoice in the fact that I’m now married to you?”
She yawned in a bored fashion behind her hand. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Why?” She made sure to look utterly confused, with a little pinch of outrage. “Because I’m the most sought-after woman in England.”
The look of shock on his face was almost funny, and she bit her lower lip lightly to stop herself from giggling like a mad woman, due to the stress.
“I can hardly believe I have to tell you this,” she continued instead, looking down at her perfectly cut nails. “You said it yourself. Every man who ever met me yearns for me. You should be grateful, not upset.”
“You don’t think I have the right to be upset?”
“No. Why should you? You are married to me.”
Sin shook his head in disbelief. “You forced me into this marriage…”
“I did not force you into anything. It was you who had the bad manners to place yourself on top of me so I could hardly breathe. You are quite heavy, you know. As I see it, it is you who should apologize to me, not I to you.”
“I don’t want an apology. All I want is the truth.”
She ignored his pleading eyes and her aching heart’s response. Instead, she straightened her skirt carefully, just to have something else to focus on.
“I have told you the truth.”
“No, you haven’t.”
“Yes, I have.”
“No, you…” He interrupted himself, stopping the childish discussion with a heavy sigh. “This is going nowhere. Talking to you is like hitting my head against a wall. I always thought Fanny was wrong, that there was more to you than a pretty face. But I guess she was right all along—inside your beautiful exterior there is only blood, bone, and selfishness.”
She dug her nails into her palms to stop the urgent wish to redeem herself in his eyes. Instead she snorted with all the contempt she could muster. “Of course Fanny says my beauty is only skin deep. I would too, if I were as homely and unattractive as she is.”
She watched his nostrils flare angrily as she insulted his beloved little sister. She knew she was at the point of no return, and her whole being desperately wanted to stop this verbal suicide, but she hardened herself. This was not the time to save herself from his wrath. She was doing it for Penelope’s best, but she couldn’t tell him that.
He would never understand.
“I have always pitied your poor parents, to be stuck with such an unattractive daughter. It’s just as my parents, who thought they could do better after having me, only to find themselves burdened with Penny instead.”
Ignoring his seething anger, she continued brutally, making sure not to soften her words. “I must admit the thought of Fanny’s homeliness scares me a bit. What if we would have a daughter like her? Someone who isn’t beautiful?”
“Are you out of your mind?” Sin yelled at her, finally losing his temper. “It is my sister you talk about, someone I hold most dear. If I
were to have a child like her I would be overjoyed. I love her with all my heart, something you obviously never will understand, as you just made it quite clear that you don’t care about anyone, not even your own sister.”
He charged toward the door which connected their bedrooms, but stopped halfway. Hesitantly he turned to look at her, as if he wanted to give her one more chance to redeem herself before it was too late.
“How can you be this cold?” he whispered hoarsely, his voice strained with emotion.
Because I have to.
“Please,” she sighed, as if she found him extremely tedious. “Love means nothing in the end. Only beauty prevails. Fanny should be thankful for being an heiress. She would never have caught the eye of a man like the Duke of Hereford otherwise.”
It was saddening to see how the last little warmth toward her disappeared from his eyes, leaving only a cold wall of disgust. He was her husband, the man she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with. And yet here she was, saying everything she could think of to make sure he would hate her.
She wanted nothing more than to explain herself, but she knew she couldn’t. So instead she kept quiet, fussing over one of her perfect nails, making sure he got an impression of exactly how unimportant she found his rightful anger.
“You are awful.”
She looked up and met his eyes, so he could see how untouched she was. With a staggering breath, he stumbled backwards toward the connecting door, and she winced as it crashed shut behind him.
Breathing deeply, she leaned back until she lay on the bed, her eyes aching with unshed tears. Damn you, she thought with raw hatred. Damn you for forcing me to destroy my own life.
Chapter Two
“You look like hell.”
Sin looked up from the swirling glass of wine, frowning slightly toward his younger brother Sebastian, who sat down in the other armchair with an annoying grin.
Bloody hell.
“Go away.”
Ignoring his older brother, Sebastian reached for the bottle and filled an empty glass to its brim, showing no inclination of going anywhere.
Bloody hell and back.
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