Love Birds: The Complete Collection

by Ruth J. Hartman

  Amelia covered her eyes with her hand. She’s actually going to say it.

  “You see, a man has a… well it’s sort of a…”

  No… no…

  “I guess you could compare it to a smaller version of an elephant’s—”

  “Mother!”

  “You need to hear it before it’s thrust upon you at—”

  “Mother, really!”

  “I’m only trying to help, darling.”

  “You’re not helping. Not in the least.”

  “But when your father and I first…”

  Stop talking.

  “He took off his trousers and…”

  Please stop talking!

  “This thing appeared.”

  Oh!

  “I nearly had an apoplectic fit right there on the bed.”

  Just go away now.

  “And when I realized that he intended to place that, that thing in my—”

  “Mother!”

  “You need to know what’s going to happen to you.”

  “No. I don’t.” She placed her hands on her mother’s shoulders, turned her toward the door, opened it and unceremoniously shoved her out into the hall.

  “Amelia! How dare you—”

  As she slammed the door on her mother’s words, she grimaced. While it was true that she had yet to experience physical love, hearing about it from her mother’s point of view was not the way to find out about it.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  The wedding ceremony had been brief, thankfully. With the two mothers glaring at each other from across the short aisle, a longer ceremony might have resulted in bloodshed. Amelia couldn’t believe she was married. Married! Lady Lofton. Lady Amelia. Lady Amelia Lofton. Would she ever tire of the title? A one-sided smiled crossed her lips. No. Definitely not.

  A warm hand wrapped around her waist. “Ready for the reception, darling?”

  Amelia sighed and leaned into her husband’s arm. Her dream had come true. She was married, but that was only part of it. Conrad, as amazing as it seemed, did truly love her, in spite of their nefarious beginning. “Quite ready.”

  They were helped down from the carriage by the footman. They’d ridden in the carriage alone. A first, since they’d always required a chaperone. Amelia took her husband’s arm. “I know we don’t need Cecilia anymore. But I’m going to miss her company.”

  “We can see her as often as you like. I also enjoy her company, you know.” He patted her hand on his arm.

  “True. Now she’ll visit us as a friend and a sister.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Not that I’ll tell anyone.”

  “I know you won’t. I trust you completely.”

  Amelia let out a sigh. “Thank you.”

  “And perhaps we won’t be able to acknowledge her as a sister, but I plan to tell everyone that she is our relation.”

  “A cousin?”

  “Distant, yes. It may be acceptable if we use that title for her, instead.”

  “I wish you could say who she really is. Acknowledge your relationship.”

  “As do I. Nevertheless, she, her mother and Andrew will always be family.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “The interesting part of that will be my mother’s reaction.”

  “I think interesting may be putting it mildly, Conrad.”

  He laughed. Such a hearty sound. When she’d first met him, he rarely even smiled.

  They entered through the gate to the Bird Sanctuary and walked along the same path they’d taken before. Conrad, though still not liking birds in any form, had made great strides in his willingness to participate in more frequent outdoor activities. And Amelia had told him that she would reciprocate. Whenever he was content to stay indoors, she would stay with him.

  Small price to pay for marrying her true love.

  Perhaps, if he sat next to her, she’d even find enjoyment in needlework.

  Dappled sunlight through swaying tree branches caused Amelia to squint. Surely Conrad had issues as well, as he seemed especially sensitive to the sun’s brightness. Whereas some might be impatient with him for his reactions to things and his sensitivities, Amelia felt a fierce protectiveness, wanting him to be comfortable and content.

  A light breeze lifted small wisps of hair nearest her face. The day was absolutely breathtaking. Blue skies. Twittering birds. The pungent scent of pine trees.

  And the perfect man at her side.

  As they continued on, passing several trees and benches, they neared the spot that Amelia had chosen for the reception. Voices could be heard. Also quacks and proop-proops of the ducks in the nearby pond. She glanced at Conrad to gage his reaction. Would he be alarmed? Anxious?

  With his pleasant expression, he appeared calm. Content. Happy. All the things she wanted for him.

  They crossed a grassy field and passed beneath a natural canopy of tree branches that opened onto a lush valley of wildflowers and chirping birds. Their guests came into view, standing as a small group. Conrad’s mother had her arms crossed over her chest. Amelia’s mother simply frowned. Oliver and Lucy stood side by side, and Amelia’s father gazed off into the distance.

  Lucy hurried to them as they neared, the long grass swishing against the hem of her dress. “I’m so happy for you both.” She hugged Amelia and took Conrad’s hand briefly.

  “Thank you, Lucy. That means quite a lot.” Conrad lifted his mouth in a smile.

  Oliver joined them. He nodded to Amelia and reached out to shake Conrad’s hand. “I wish for you all the best.”

  A slight pinkish hue traced up Conrad’s cheeks. Amelia tilted her head. She must ask Conrad someday about his history with those two. Something told her it would be quite the interesting tale.

  “There you are!” Conrad’s mother, now the dowager, rushed to them. “We thought you’d gotten lost.”

  Conrad raised an eyebrow. “Mother, really… We’re only a few minutes behind you.”

  She placed gloved hands on rounded hips. “Conrad, could you not wait for… that… until after the reception?”

  Amelia gasped.

  “Mother.”

  “Now see here.” Amelia’s mother stepped forward. “How dare you say that my daughter would do that?”

  “She’ll be doing that soon enough. It’s quite common, you know.”

  Amelia’s mother huffed out a loud breath. “Well! I never.”

  “You must have at least once.” The dowager pointed to Amelia.

  “Mother, please!” Conrad stomped his boot, causing a cloud of dust to rise. He coughed, but before he could retrieve his handkerchief, Amelia reached into his coat pocket and handed it to him.

  He turned to her and blinked. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She looked forward to all of her duties as his wife, even small ones. To her it took so little effort, but to Conrad, it seemed of the utmost importance.

  Then it shall be important to me as well, from now on.

  A small table had been set up beneath the shade of an enormous oak tree. Glasses of Madeira sat waiting.

  Conrad tucked his handkerchief away and smiled at Amelia. “Ready to celebrate?”

  “Always.” She giggled and covered her mouth.

  “Amelia. Control yourself.” Mother’s frown was formidable enough to frighten away an entire flock of crows. Too bad such a flock was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps they would carry her off somewhere…

  Be nice, Amelia. It’s your wedding day.

  Conrad pulled her closer. “Please, don’t bother controlling yourself on my account.”

  Amelia gasped, but sputtered another laugh.

  From behind them, she recognized her mother’s tsk-tsk.

  After today, I won’t be subjected to that any more. At least not every day.

  A maid handed the wedding couple glasses, and then served the others. Amelia’s father hadn’t said much during the ceremony, and now looked… She squinted. Was he crying?

 
Mr. Talbot swiped moisture from his eyes. She’d like to believe it was because he would miss her, but she knew him well enough to know better. He was crying on his own behalf. With Amelia gone, there would be no one to intercede between him and her mother when Mrs. Talbot was in one of her tempers.

  Which was often. Unfortunately.

  Conrad raised his glass. “I know this is an unconventional venue for a reception, but it’s my wife’s favorite place on earth. Thank you for joining us to wish us well.”

  The dowager harrumphed and didn’t bother to lower her voice. “I cannot fathom why anyone would find this place enjoyable. It’s repulsive, disgusting—”

  Conrad glared at her, his eyes narrowing to mere slits. “Please refrain from saying another word on the matter.”

  “Well, I-I—”

  “This is Amelia’s day and I intend to do everything in my power to make it special. For her.”

  Amelia grabbed his hand and gave it a hearty squeeze. Was the warmth in her chest a sign that her heart was melting? How had she ended up married to the man of her dreams, when she’d set out only to avoid marrying an octogenarian with tentacles? “Thank you, Conrad.” She blinked her eyes against tears that threatened to fall.

  “My pleasure.” He looked deep into her eyes. Could he see into her soul as well? Her legs unsteady, she grasped his hand even tighter for balance. Those piercing blue eyes would be her undoing every time. Of that she had no doubt. Especially tonight, once they were finally alone… A shiver ran through her, imagining his kisses, his touch…

  Oliver raised his glass. “Here’s to two very special people. I’m delighted that you’ve found each other and wish for you a most happy life. May your love increase daily.”

  “Thank you.” Amelia felt heat touch her cheeks. Were they red?

  Conrad’s mother took a swig of her drink and plunked the glass on the table. “Well I for one have had about all I care to take of this particular celebration.”

  Conrad turned and opened his mouth as if to speak, but wasn’t given the chance. Amelia’s mother frowned. “And I’ve had all I care to hear from the likes of you.”

  “Well!” The dowager darted out her hand and grabbed Amelia’s mother’s arm. She pinched her fingers together, causing the other woman to howl in pain.

  A scuffle ensued, with hitting, kicking, and… spitting.

  Amelia sucked in a breath, unable to believe the atrocious sight. A look at Conrad showed him to be doing the same. His mouth hung open.

  The mothers scratched and fought like two cats tied together in a wet sack, screeching and yelling. They pushed and shoved, eventually ending up very close to the edge of the pond. Ducks flapped their wings and quacked, as if cheering them on.

  And then…

  Water shot into the air as someone fell into the pond. As soon as the gush of water collapsed, Amelia could see who still stood on the bank, drenched, and who had taken an impromptu swim.

  She raised one eyebrow. “Oh dear. My mother just pushed your mother into the pond.”

  Conrad rolled his eyes. “I suppose we should rescue her…” Although he took not a single step in that direction.

  “Now your mother is cursing. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard that particular word used in that particular way.” Amelia winced. “Sounds uncomfortable.”

  “Oh believe me. I’ve heard it before. My whole life.”

  “The good news is, if she’s able to curse, then we know at least she’s not drowning.”

  “True.” Instead of heading to the pond and the wet mothers, Conrad wrapped his arms around Amelia’s waist. He pulled her close as he leaned down and gently kissed her, his lips caressing hers. Soft, gentle, but insistent. A kiss that promised more, much more after the reception had ended. When they were alone and could do as they liked. Amelia cared not that others could see them.

  Let them look.

  She smiled against Conrad’s mouth and felt his lips rise in answer.

  Another splash came from the pond. With a sigh, Conrad ended the kiss and peered in that direction. “It seems your mother is in the pond as well.”

  Amelia turned and squinted. “Now they’re wrestling. How nice.” She angled her head and listened. “I do believe your mother has taught mine a few new words.”

  “Welcome to the family, darling.”

  “At least we know it will never be boring…”

  Conrad tilted back his head and laughed. “No, that’s something our lives will never be.”

  The End

  A Courtship for Cecilia

  Other titles by Ruth J. Hartman

  Historical Romance

  A Courtship for Cecilia

  The Unwanted Earl

  Love Birds of Regent’s Park

  The Matchmakers

  Romancing the Dustman’s Daughter

  Romance at the Royal Menagerie

  Rescued by a Duke

  Time for a Duke

  Contemporary Romance

  Flossophy of Grace

  Pillow Talk

  Cats and Cowboys

  Better Than Catnip

  Purrfect Voyage

  Grin and Barrett

  Mind of a Stranger

  Memoir

  Life in Mental Chains

  Children’s Book

  Murphy in the Paw-Paw Patch

  Dedication

  To Kim Bowman, my editor and very special friend. Thank you for your patience, guidance, and always being there for me.

  Back at ya, babe! ~ Kim Bowman

  Chapter One

  Barrington Radcliff stared at the man facing him. Uncle Percy had said some strange things before, but now Barrington wondered if the man hadn’t truly lost his mind.

  Percy pointed out the window. “Barrington, take a closer look at that squirrel. Don’t you notice the close resemblance to your Great Aunt Katherine?”

  “I…”

  “Even the scruffy beard. I’m telling you, they could be twins.”

  “I’m really starting to worry about you, Percy.”

  “I’m not the one with the problem. If that squirrel doesn’t get its beard trimmed soon, it might trip over it. Think how the other squirrels will laugh.”

  Barrington shook his head and stepped across the room to the sideboard. If there was ever a time for a glass of port, he’d found it.

  “Say, pour me one, won’t you?”

  Doesn’t inebriation advance madness? “Are you sure you should? Perhaps you should wait.”

  “What a silly question. There’s never a bad time for port. Besides, you’re having one.”

  With a shrug, Barrington poured two glasses and handed one to Percy. If his uncle hadn’t changed his bizarre ways at his age, it wasn’t likely to happen. While Barrington sipped his port, his uncle downed the entire contents of a glass in one slurp. Except for the drops that had splattered on his chin. Those were left to dangle perilously, not quite sure when they would fall or where they would land.

  Hopefully, not anywhere near me. Sometimes living with his strange uncle was like sharing a house with a small, inquisitive boy. He glanced over to Percy. Make that a boy of way over fourteen stone but not with the adequate height to balance it out.

  Percy gestured with his empty glass. “Say, you haven’t mentioned Martha Lymington in the last few weeks. Something amiss between you two?”

  “In a manner of speaking. But I’d rather not discuss it.” When the one person Barrington had trusted had lied straight to his face, the feeling of betrayal had stung deep. He had so many memories of times with her. Carriage rides. Parlor games. Laughter. Friendship. And stolen kisses behind the stables.

  He’d thought they’d marry. There’d been no doubt, at least not in his mind. Martha had even hinted at it in a teasing way, but that was Martha. She might be tittering about something, but if he listened closely enough to her words, there was always a meaning beneath. Something deeper. As if to say — This is what I’m trying to tell you. She never acted se
rious about important subjects, though. Preferred to be the center of the fun, dancing the longest, laughing the loudest, and having the most friends.

  “Oh, come now, Barrington. Surely you can confide in me?”

  He stared at Percy. I’d sooner trust my deepest feelings to the bearded squirrel hanging by its toes from our tree branch.

  If not for Barrington putting up with Percy’s wild conjectures, surely his uncle might find himself a resident of Bedlam. With both of Barrington’s parents deceased, Uncle Percy was his only family.

  “I thought surely by now you two would be betrothed. You’ve known her forever. It seemed she’d become a permanent fixture in the house.” Percy’s eyes took on a dreamy appearance. “I’ve often thought her hair looked like bird feathers.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Oh, I only meant that in a good way.”

  “Of course.” How could that be construed as any way but positive? What a loon.

  Loon?

  They had feathers. Barrington rubbed his hand down his face. Please don’t let the mad gene filter its way down to me.

  “You’re not a spring chicken you know, Barrington.”

  “We’re still discussing birds?” He’d swear sometimes his uncle should have been born in a nest.

  “You, my friend, are advancing in age as we speak. Aren’t you ever going to take a wife? Give me some great-nephews?”

  He’d thought by now that he would have already done just that. But Martha seemed to be having too much fun to talk seriously about anything, well, serious. Certainly, Barrington enjoyed gaiety as much as anyone else, but why couldn’t Martha understand that it was time to grow up, time to move past playing like they had as children in the nursery? Barrington sighed and sipped his port.

  “If Martha isn’t your choice for a bride, do you have someone else in mind?”

  How did Percy know that Barrington was having second thoughts about her? “Of course not.”

  “Just keep in mind that old men rarely father children.”

  Barrington spewed his mouthful of drink down the front of his coat. “I beg your pardon?”