“I love you, Elise. You knew even that before I did.”
He still didn’t smile.
The short remaining distance between them had begun to seem unbearable.
But there was more to know before he crossed it.
“What of Alexandra?”
“She will prosper wherever and with whomever she pleases.” He airily waved away Alexandra as if she hadn’t been the cloud over Elise’s world. “It will not be me. I have told her how I feel about you. I even thanked her for bringing you into my life, for now I know what happened.”
Elise said nothing. Happiness had rendered her mute. For the moment, she wanted only to feel this way forever, as if she was made of light and peace.
“We can make our own history. Our own house, our own dynasty, if we choose. If . . .” His voice was a husk, and nearly broke. “If you love me.”
She didn’t want to torture him, but her voice couldn’t yet find its way to the surface, so stupefied with happiness was she.
“I love you.” She choked the words, and they sounded so small, when they ought to have been delivered accompanied by celestial trumpets.
He drew in a long breath, like a man who’d just been released from a locked box. He released it, and closed his eyes.
In seconds, he had closed the distance between them, and suddenly she was in his arms as if she’d never left them.
He murmured things to her in French, nonsense words, endearments, as he brushed away her tears so she could see his beautiful face, and remember forever how he looked the moment she’d told him she loved him.
He looked into her eyes. “And will you be my wife?”
“And I will be your wife.”
“Are you certain of that, chérie?”
“Oh, yes. As you pointed out, I’m a gambler.”
“Ah, very good. And I have learned how to play the long game.”
“Perfect. Between us, we are certain to always win.”
It was then he kissed her, tentatively at first, as if it had been the very first time he’d kissed her.
And then he claimed her with a kiss so thorough and passionate that birds were flushed from nearby trees, as if a fire had begun below.
Her parents and Jack had, in fact, watched and heard the entire thing from the upper-story windows.
“She takes after you,” her father said to her mother, who was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, and her mother elbowed him in the ribs.
THEY WERE MARRIED in the church in Pennyroyal Green by the Reverend Sylvaine. The wedding was attended by a very surprised but surprisingly sentimental Earl and Countess of Ardmay, and witnessed by happily weeping family members and servants.
And when they burst triumphantly from the church to the cheers of gathered onlookers, Philippe and Jack promptly climbed the bell tower together.
And then Philippe hoisted Jack up, and together they made that bell peal so joyfully it was heard in nearly every corner of Sussex.
And at the great celebration in the hall after the wedding, some noted that Seamus Duggan was a trifle more subdued than usual, and that his fiddle sounded a little more plaintive whilst playing the “Sussex Waltz.”
IN LONDON, LYON Redmond, also known as Mr. Hardesty, a successful trader, was preparing to board his ship when a man in midnight blue, silver-trimmed livery strode up the gangplank.
All around their captain, hands went to swords and pistols, and the footman, to his astonishment, met a bristling phalanx of hard-faced men.
The footman bowed. “I seek Mr. Hardesty.”
“I am he.”
He bowed.
“For you, sir.” The footman extended the message.
“Hold,” Lyon said to the footman, who had, with great but unfounded optimism, turned to leave.
Poor Ramsey, who had won the coin toss, remained obediently motionless, face admirably impassive, while the tips of a half dozen swords glinted in the sun at him.
Lyon broke the seal.
He went still.
“Pay the man,” he said absently.
Someone flicked a guinea at Ramsey. He caught it neatly.
Nine words.
She’s getting married on the second Saturday in May.
And thusly, Lavay discharged his debt to Lyon Redmond.
About the Author
USA Today bestselling author JULIE ANNE LONG originally set out to be a rock star when she grew up (and she has the guitars and fringed clothing stuffed in the back of her closet to prove it), but writing was always her first love. Since hanging up her guitar for the computer keyboard, she has written books that frequently top reader and critic polls and have been nominated for numerous awards, including the RITA®, Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice, and The Quills, and reviewers have been known to use words like “dazzling,” “brilliant,” and “impossible to put down” when describing them. Julie lives in Northern California.
Visit Julie at www.julieannelong.com, or www.facebook.com/AuthorJulieAnneLong.
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By Julie Anne Long
IT STARTED WITH A SCANDAL
BETWEEN THE DEVIL AND IAN EVERSEA
IT HAPPENED ONE MIDNIGHT
A NOTORIOUS COUNTESS CONFESSES
HOW THE MARQUESS WAS WON
WHAT I DID FOR A DUKE
I KISSED AN EARL
SINCE THE SURRENDER
LIKE NO OTHER LOVER
THE PERILS OF PLEASURE
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
IT STARTED WITH A SCANDAL. Copyright © 2015 by Julie Anne Long. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition APRIL 2015 ISBN: 9780062334848
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062334824
FIRST EDITION
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It Started with a Scandal Page 28