Smitten by the Brit--A Sometimes in Love Novel

by Melonie Johnson

  Theo. He was speaking to someone on the other side of the wall, tone caustic, raised in a rare moment of anger. “I should have seen this coming. You always have a plan, don’t you, Mama? At least now I know why you were so eager to help with the arrangements tonight.”

  “Really, Theodore, I thought we’d been through all this. You can’t honestly say you’re surprised. This is the perfect opportunity to ask for Camille’s hand.”

  Bonnie bit down on her lip, holding back a gasp. Her legs locked. She stood in the shadow of the garden wall, the gravel path beneath her feet turning to quicksand, draining the evening’s happiness from her body.

  “I see. It’s not enough for you to insist I marry someone I don’t love. Now you wish to turn my best friend’s wedding into my engagement party, is that it?” Theo’s voice was a low growl.

  “When did you become so melodramatic?” his mother chided.

  “When did you become so Machiavellian?” Theo countered.

  “It’s not just the financial concerns.” There was an edge to Theo’s mother’s voice now, a zealousness. “We must also think of our family’s social capital.”

  “You can’t be serious, Mama.”

  “I am dead serious. And you promised me, remember? This ring represents our family’s future. Your future. Now, you are going to take this ring, a ring meant for a duchess, and you are going to offer it to the woman worthy of wearing it. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Crystal.” Theo’s voice was resolute. “Give me the ring.”

  His words were cold and sharp, shattering the night air and Bonnie’s heart. Forcing her legs to move, she ran up the path and back into the house. She needed a place to escape, to hide. Panic overloaded all her senses, and she stumbled blindly down the hall, hurrying past the entrance to the ballroom.

  “There you are!” Tabitha called, spotting her from the doorway and grabbing her hand, dragging her back. “Come on, Cassie is about to toss the bouquet.”

  * * *

  “Give me the ring, Mama,” Theo repeated, straightening his jacket before adjusting the bloody kilt Cassie had insisted they all wear.

  His mother handed him a velvet pouch.

  Wordlessly, he turned it upside down, letting the ring slip out to land in his palm. Theo stared at the heirloom. Felt its weight. How many of his ancestors had proposed with this ring? How many, with all their wealth and power, had found happiness?

  “Do I have your word?”

  His jaw hardened, and he closed his fist around the ring. “I promise you, Mama, the woman I ask to wear this will be worthy of the Emberton title.”

  Her shrewd gaze locked on his face, eyes narrowing as if she suspected mutiny.

  And she’d be right. Dancing with Bonnie this evening, Theo’s soul had been under siege, his heart declaring war against his mind. It was time for this bloody battle to be over.

  Before she could say more, Theo left the garden, stalking back toward the house. A small part of him, the part who wished for a mother like Logan’s, had hoped his own mother would surprise him, but unfortunately, that was not to be the case.

  Ah well. His mother would accept it, in time. And if not, to bloody hell with her. Theo was done playing games, done with the matchmaking and the drama. Life was too short. His mother, of all people, should understand that. But he couldn’t force her. He could only hope she’d come around on her own. He’d wasted too much time already worrying about what other people wanted.

  Bonnie was worthy. Smart and kind. Fiercely loyal. She was the duchess he wanted. The wife he needed.

  But he was getting ahead of himself.

  First, he had to propose. Theo stepped through the ballroom door just as Cassie raised her arm and tossed her bouquet high overhead. He watched the beribboned bundle of flowers sail through the air, end over end, landing at Bonnie’s feet.

  She bent down to retrieve it as all around her, guests clapped and cheered. No time like the present, mate. Holding up the ring, Theo made his way toward her. She looked up from the bouquet and watched him approach, her eyes unreadable from this distance.

  Bonnie glanced at the ring in his hand, her face pale. An odd expression flickered across her features. Not surprised, not happy. But … stricken.

  As he moved closer, she didn’t return her gaze to his. Instead, she glanced to her left. It took Theo a moment to realize she was looking at Camille. Before he knew what was happening, Bonnie had shoved the bridal bouquet into Camille’s hands, and spun around, racing from the room.

  CHAPTER 30

  THREE WEEKS AFTER his best friend married the woman of his dreams while he watched the woman of his own dreams run away, Theo sat at the breakfast table with his three sisters, staring into his teacup and ignoring their prattle. A crust of toast smacked him in the cheek and he glanced up. “What the hell, Tabby?”

  Tessa clucked her tongue. “Better not let Mama hear you talking like that.”

  “How is she today?” Thalia asked.

  “Full of as much spit and vinegar as always,” Tabby said.

  “I thought the expression was piss and vinegar,” Theo remarked.

  “Gross!” All three of his sisters frowned at him.

  Theo shrugged, hiding a smile. The one bright spot had been when Mama had finally agreed to tell her daughters she had cancer. It had been a secret he’d not been happy to keep. The fact Theo viewed his mother telling his sisters about her illness as the high point in his life these past few weeks was not lost on him.

  And honestly, if Mama hadn’t said anything, Theo doubted any of them would have had a clue. So far treatment had been minimal, with the doctors focused on monitoring the size of her tumors. But Theo was glad his sisters knew. Preparing to help their mother fight her battle with cancer had brought them all closer. As had their latest venture to resuscitate the family fortune.

  “Where is she, anyway?” he wondered.

  “In the ballroom, Arguing about table linens with the vendor.” Tabitha buttered another slice of toast.

  Thalia glanced admirably at her older sister. “How did you ever convince Mama to begin renting the Abbey for weddings?”

  “I showed her pictures from Prince Harry’s nuptials. Told her if we played our cards right, by the time little Prince George is ready to get married, perhaps we could host the reception here.”

  “For a very pretty penny,” Theo added.

  “That’s the point,” Tabitha agreed. “And when Mama saw the profit margins I drew up, she pulled the stick out of her butt far enough to agree to it. And who was right?”

  “You!” Thalia said.

  “Whose plan will save the Emberton fortune?”

  “Yours!” Tessa clapped.

  “Damn straight. After a hundred years of Wharton men screwing things up, it will be a Wharton woman who finally fixes it.”

  “Huzzah!” Thalia and Tessa cheered.

  “You can’t take all the credit,” Theo grumbled. “It was Bonnie’s idea to move Logan’s wedding here that inspired you. If I hadn’t said yes—”

  “If you hadn’t said yes, then sure, I might never have thought of it. But you did and here we are.” Tabitha narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m surprised you have the gall to mention her name at all.” His sister paused, smirking. “Or should I say the balls.”

  “Tabby!” Thalia gasped.

  “Oh, wait,” Tabitha added, warming to her topic, “I forgot. Mama keeps your balls in her handbag.”

  Theo’s face flushed as Thalia and Tessa snickered. “Sorry?”

  “No, I’m sorry,” Tabitha said, crossing her arms. “For a moment there, I’d thought you finally pulled your head out of your arse, but I was wrong.”

  “Care to explain yourself?” Theo stared at his sister.

  “I saw your face that night, Theo. You were going to propose to her.”

  “Who? Camille?” Theo jerked his head. “I told Mama I won’t marry her.”

  His mother hadn’t outright forgiven him
for going against her wishes, but with the new wedding business venture keeping her occupied, she’d dropped the matchmaking topic. For now. Theo knew the truce wouldn’t last. Mama was too determined to let it go forever.

  Theo was determined too. He would not marry someone he didn’t love.

  “We both know I’m not talking about Camille.” Tabitha huffed. “How long are you going to mope around here?”

  “I’ve been busy helping the solicitors draw up the Abbey’s rental agreements as a wedding venue,” Theo argued. “And I have not been moping.”

  “You’ve totally been moping,” Thalia said.

  “It’s true,” Tessa agreed.

  “Besides, those agreements were finished ages ago. We’re already taking bookings for the next season.” His sister continued to berate him. “Got any other excuses?”

  “She ran away.”

  “So? Chase her!”

  Theo swallowed. His tea was cold and bitter. Rather like his heart.

  “Spare me from men and their fragile egos,” Tabitha groaned. “Is that it, then? Don’t you want to know why she ran away?”

  When he still didn’t reply, another crust hit him in the face. He raised his head and gave his sister an icy stare.

  “Answer me one thing,” she demanded, matching his stare with one of her own. “Do you love her?”

  Theo regarded his sister for a long moment. She knew him too well to bother lying. He’d spent the weeks since the night of Logan’s wedding trying to lie to himself.

  He closed his eyes and nodded.

  “What’s that?” she prodded.

  His throat worked, tongue thick with regret. “Yes,” he finally managed to force out. He opened his eyes.

  Unperturbed by the storm brewing in his face, Tabby leaned forward, hand cupped to her ear in exaggeration. “I didn’t hear you.”

  “Yes, I bloody love her!” Theo shouted, smashing his fists against the table, dishes clattering.

  His sisters gaped, mouths hanging open.

  Tabitha broke the silence. “Then suck up your wounded male pride, get off your stubborn bum, and go tell her.” Grinning, she broke off another piece of toast.

  “Don’t you dare throw that at me,” Theo warned. “But you’re right.” He stood. “I need to tell her.”

  “Finally.” Tabitha told his retreating back.

  As Theo marched out of the breakfast room, the scrap of toast winged him in the shoulder.

  * * *

  The summer storm blowing in off Lake Michigan had turned the late-afternoon sky above Chicago dark. Thick charcoal-colored clouds hung low, blotting out the sun. On the north side of the city, rain streaked down the glass windows of a coffee shop. A heavy roll of thunder set the teacups rattling in their saucers. Moments later, lightning flashed outside, briefly illuminating the few pedestrians daring enough to risk being out and about in this weather. It was a good day to stay indoors.

  Brushing crumbs off the page she’d been reviewing, Bonnie licked a dab of sugared lemon peel icing from her finger. A few months ago, she’d sat in another tea shop halfway across the world and wrote in this journal for the very first time. Now, the leather cover was no longer stiff, the spine was cracked, the pages were almost full, and she loved it more than ever. She recalled the feeling she’d had that day, fingers stroking the cover, blank pages filled with fresh possibility. She’d been brimming with excitement to be out on her own, free to do as she liked.

  She doodled in the corner of her page, staring at the swirling pattern of ink forming on the paper. It was the end of August, a new term would be starting soon, and for the first time in years, Bonnie wasn’t caught up in the pre-back-to-school chaos. When she’d arrived home in Chicago, she’d been relieved Ana’s offer to stay in her spare room still stood. It wasn’t a permanent solution, but it allowed Bonnie the freedom to make some changes, spurring her next decision. She’d met with her department administrator at the college and applied for a sabbatical.

  Bonnie wasn’t sure if she wanted to quit teaching forever, but she knew she needed a break. She needed to give her writing a chance. She sighed, flipping through the pages she’d managed so far this afternoon and nibbling a corner of her scone. Just because she was giving it a chance didn’t mean it was easy. Some days the words flowed, and other days, like today, she was just … stuck. Something was still missing. She needed a bolt of inspiration.

  On cue, lightning flashed. Bonnie eyed the rain-swept street beyond the window warily. Her phone rang, and she jumped. But it was only Cassie. She shook her head, annoyed with herself. She was spending too much time in story mode. Not everything was a symbolic gesture. She slid her thumb over the answer button. “Hey, Cass.”

  “Hey, are you hanging out at the coffee shop on Sheridan right now?”

  “Yep.” Bonnie maneuvered around tables toward the front of the store, where her conversation wouldn’t bother the other patrons. “It’s late afternoon on a weekday, where else would I be?” She was a creature of habit, something a few exciting months living in another country had not managed to change. “Why?”

  “Just checking,” Cassie said with forced casualness.

  Immediately, Bonnie was on alert. She knew that tone of voice all too well. “What’s going on?” she asked, glancing outside. The rain had tapered off to a steady drizzle, and the sky, though still gray, had lightened considerably, the patch of emerging sunshine holding the promise of a rainbow.

  Good. She could use a bit of luck.

  “Don’t freak out,” Cassie warned.

  “You realize when someone says, ‘don’t freak out,’ the person being told not to freak out immediately starts freaking out, right?” Her friend’s cryptic response did nothing to assuage Bonnie’s nerves. “Cassie…” she began, then froze. Across the street, long legs dodging puddles and eating up the sidewalk, was Theo. “Why is the sixteenth Duke of Emberton heading toward me?”

  “Maybe he wants to talk to you,” Cassie suggested pertly.

  “Maybe I don’t want to talk to him,” Bonnie replied, equally pert.

  “Hey, you’re the one who arranged for Logan to meet me for that supper cruise on the Thames, remember?” Cassie reminded her.

  “That was different.” Theo had almost reached the shop; he was close enough that she could see the raindrops glistening on his jacket.

  “I hardly see how,” Cassie argued. “Hear him out, okay? You need to give him a chance.”

  “I don’t need to give him anything,” Bonnie grumbled.

  “Just do it. You can thank me later.”

  Before she could respond, Cassie ended the call. Bonnie clutched her phone, watching as Theo stopped at the corner. He stepped off the curb the instant the walk light flashed, confident stride daring the flow of traffic to deny him. If you don’t go, they won’t stop.

  Seems he’d taken her advice to heart. In seconds, Theo was directly in front of the shop window, staring at her through the glass, dark hair curling in the damp. Seeing him this close made her heart flop sideways, erratic beats thumping painfully inside her chest.

  Rather than move toward the entrance, he remained at the window. Watching. Waiting.

  Fine. Be that way. She pocketed her phone and pushed through the door.

  “Don’t blame Cassie,” Theo said by way of greeting. “I pestered Logan incessantly until he made her tell me where you—”

  “What do you want?” Bonnie cut him off.

  “To talk to you.” A tentative smile curved his mouth.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, pressing down on her traitorous heart, ordering it to behave. “So, talk.”

  “Why did you run away?”

  “You came all the way here to ask me that?”

  “For starters, yes.” He shoved a hand through his hair, slicking back the wet strands.

  “You were about to propose to your heiress.” She shrugged. “I was just getting out of the way.”

  He stared down at her, blue eyes
fierce. “I was about to propose to you.”

  “But…” Bonnie’s mouth opened and closed. She must have looked like a fish. She felt like one—a foolish fish caught in a net, yanked from the water and gasping for air. “But I…” Brain deprived of oxygen, she struggled to form a coherent sentence. “I heard you and your mother talking in the garden. I heard about your promise.”

  Pulling herself together, she thrust her chin up. She knew what she heard. What she saw. This was not going to be like one of those big misunderstandings in Cassie’s romance novels. “You promised your mother you would propose,” she insisted.

  “True,” he agreed, pulling a ring from his pocket. “I promised to give this to the woman I believed worthy of wearing it.”

  Bonnie’s heart stuttered to a halt. “But I’m not rich. What about saving the estate, your duty to your family and all that?”

  Theo took a step toward her, his voice low and deep. “All my life I believed duty was more important than love—until I met you.” Raindrops clung to Theo’s eyelashes and dripped from the curling ends of his hair, trickling down his neck, soaking his collar. “You’ve bewitched me, Bonnie. Body and soul.”

  Towering over her, storm-tossed and intense, right now Theo looked very much like an Austen hero incarnate. He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. Bonnie concentrated on the movement, her own throat working convulsively. If she’d learned anything these past few months, it’s that she didn’t need Gilbert or Darcy or any made-up hero trapped between the pages of a book.

  She needed real. She needed Theo.

  “What are you saying?” she asked, refusing to hope.

  “I’m saying”—he reached for her hand, placing her palm over his chest—“that I want you. I need you in my life. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. I’m not promising a life as perfect or pretty as one of your novels. But if you give me a chance, I will work to make you happy. Every. Single. Day.”

  Under her hand, beneath the wet cotton plastered to his skin, Theo’s heart pounded, accompanying each word he spoke with a resounding thump. Bonnie remembered dancing with him at Cassie’s wedding, listening to his heartbeat as she accepted the truth of her feelings. Head spinning, her own heart began to beat faster. What was happening right now?