An Unlikely Debutante

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An Unlikely Debutante Page 23

by Laura Martin


  ‘I love you, Lina, and I can’t bear to spend one more day without you.’

  ‘You love me?’

  ‘I love you.’

  She swayed slightly on her feet, unable to fully comprehend his words, and immediately Alex’s arms were around her waist, holding her up.

  ‘You love me?’

  ‘I love you,’ he repeated for a third time.

  ‘I love you, too, Alex.’

  ‘I know,’ he said with a mischievous grin.

  ‘So arrogant.’

  He shrugged. ‘Can you bear to spend your life with such an arrogant man?’

  ‘You mean...?’

  ‘Marry me, Lina.’

  ‘Surely it wouldn’t work? We’re from different worlds.’

  ‘I don’t care.’

  ‘You’ll be shunned from society.’

  ‘I don’t care.’

  ‘No one will ever accept us.’

  ‘I don’t care. The people who matter will come around when they see how much we love each other. The rest can gossip and whisper about us for years to come. All I want is you. Will you marry me?’ he asked for a second time.

  ‘Yes.’

  He kissed her then, and time slowed so she felt every caress, every nip, until he reluctantly pulled away.

  ‘On one condition,’ Lina said, barely able to conceal her smile.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘You let me ride your Arabian.’

  ‘You drive a hard bargain, Lady Whitemore.’

  Epilogue

  ‘Shush, he’s coming,’ Lina said, trying to stop her cousin from squealing with excitement.

  They were tucked away in a quiet corner at the Pottersdown County Fair and like the previous year the weather was glorious and the day already hot despite it still being an hour until noon.

  ‘I thought I’d find you here,’ Alex grumbled good-naturedly. ‘Although I was half suspecting you to be dressed in your old clothes and telling fortunes.’

  ‘Lina never was very good at telling fortunes,’ Sabina said with a grin. ‘She didn’t have the patience, although she can read people well...’

  Alex took Lina by the hand, pulled her towards him and kissed her.

  ‘Lord Whitemore, behave yourself. We’re in public.’

  ‘I apologise, Lady Whitemore, I don’t know what came over me.’

  ‘There’s a queue building, Sabina,’ one of the men shouted over the noise of the fair.

  ‘I’ll be two minutes, Peter,’ Sabina yelled back. ‘Don’t leave without saying goodbye,’ she said, pulling Lina in close for a hug.

  It was a few months since Lina had seen her cousin and Raul last. She made sure she visited every time they stopped somewhere close to Whitemore House and Sabina had been to stay on a couple of occasions, too. She missed them and missed the closeness of their family group, but never once had she regretted leaving to become Lady Whitemore, Alex’s wife.

  ‘This brings back good memories,’ Alex said as they strolled arm in arm around the fair. ‘Over there is where your brother punched me for the first time. And over here is where I made that awful wager with Georgina and Pentworthy.’

  ‘You’re still sore about losing that?’

  ‘Not at all. Who wants a perfect debutante anyway?’

  Not surprisingly they had not received an invite to the Wilcox ball this year. In fact, their social calendar for the coming Season was looking rather bare. A few people had extended invitations to Lord Whitemore and his gypsy wife out of curiosity, but in the main they had been snubbed. Not that either Alex or Lina minded; much more fun could be had by staying at home anyway.

  ‘I thought I might find you two here,’ Georgina said as she came bustling over, herding her excited children in front of her. Georgina kissed them both warmly on the cheeks. ‘Revisiting where the romance started?’ she asked with a wicked glint in her eyes.

  ‘We have you to thank, dear sister. Without your wager Lina and I would never have been thrown together.’

  ‘Don’t tell the society ladies that,’ Georgina whispered. ‘Then I’ll be shunned, too.’

  Despite her reservations about a marriage between two people of such different stations, Georgina had come around to the idea of a union between her brother and Lina surprisingly quickly. She was their staunch defender and even the most formidable society matron didn’t dare disparage Lina when Georgina was in earshot.

  Whilst Georgina was distracted by her daughter asking if she could ride one of the ponies plodding around the fair, Lina tugged at Alex’s hand.

  ‘Come over here,’ she said, leading him to a quiet spot. ‘Care to know your fortune, good sir?’

  ‘You’re going to tell me my fortune?’

  ‘Cross my palm with silver and the secrets of the future will be revealed.’

  Alex raised an eyebrow, but handed over a shiny coin all the same. A little distance away, Lina could see Sabina watching intently. She’d confided the details of her plan to her cousin and now Sabina was almost as excited as she was.

  ‘What a lucky man you are,’ Lina said, tracing her fingers over her palm. ‘A beautiful wife, kind and generous, skilled on horseback, the best companion a man could ask for.’

  ‘Are we talking about the same person?’ Alex asked, dodging as Lina tried to thump him on the shoulder.

  ‘You’re happy, that I can tell. You have a wonderful wife, a champion horse...and another little surprise on the way.’

  ‘Another surprise?’

  Lina took Alex’s hand and turned the palm over so it was facing her and placed it on her abdomen.

  ‘Another surprise,’ she confirmed.

  ‘We’re going to have a baby?’

  Lina nodded, squealing in surprise as Alex lifted her and spun her round again and again.

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘I’m sure.’

  They’d been married for nine months, eager for a new addition to the family for the entirety of that time, and each month when Lina got her monthly courses she’d felt a little more worried, a little more unsure if it would ever happen. Of course, looking back, nine months was no time at all when trying for a baby, but whilst they were living through the experience of trying to conceive, it had felt like an eternity.

  ‘I’m going to be a father?’

  ‘You are. Soon there will be another little Whitemore to join our family.’

  He kissed her then, wrapping his arms around her protectively and placing one hand on her stomach as if letting his son or daughter know he was right there.

  ‘You know what this means,’ Alex said, his voice serious. ‘No more horse riding.’

  ‘But we’ve got the new thoroughbred arriving next week.’

  ‘And you’ll be keeping well clear.’

  Lina pulled a face, but nodded in agreement; she would do nothing to put their child at risk, even if it did mean leaving all the training of the new horse to Alex and the trainers he employed. It was a small price to pay.

  As the music started somewhere towards the middle of the fair, Alex pulled Lina in close once again.

  ‘From now on I’m going to make sure you rest,’ Alex said, shaking his head as Lina pulled a face.

  ‘Perhaps one last dance, before I’m confined to gentle strolls and drinking tea?’

  ‘One last dance.’

  Arm in arm, they walked towards the green space reserved for dancers, stepping out whilst it was still empty. Raul saw them coming and, just as Alex took Lina in his arms he whispered instructions to his fellow musicians, who instantly changed the tempo and timing.

  ‘They’re playing a waltz.’

  It sounded odd played with fiddles, violins and the variety of other string instruments that made up their band, but it was a waltz all the same. Lina leaned back in Alex’s arms and soon they were twirling across the grass, the perfect combination of gypsy and gentleman.

  * * * * *

  If you enjoyed this story, you won’t want to miss
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  these other great reads from Laura Martin:

  A RING FOR THE PREGNANT DEBUTANTE

  HEIRESS ON THE RUN

  GOVERNESS TO THE SHEIKH

  AN EARL IN WANT OF A WIFE

  Keep reading for an excerpt from RESCUED BY THE FORBIDDEN RAKE by Mary Brendan.

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  Rescued by the Forbidden Rake

  by Mary Brendan

  Chapter One

  ‘Our business is concluded, sir. I have made my decision.’

  Faye Shawcross abruptly stood up. The sauce of the man! Not only had he advised her to invest in a financial plan that had failed dismally, but he wanted to persuade her to plough what money remained to her into another of his schemes. When she had received his note yesterday, requesting an audience, she had believed he intended to come and beg forgiveness for letting her down so badly. She had even harboured a hope that he might speak of recompense. Not so much of it! Barely had he settled on a chair before proffering a new parchment for signature as though she were a gullible fool.

  ‘I do not want to seem dictatorial, Miss Shawcross, but I beg you will reconsider my proposal. I’m sure your fiancé would direct you to listen to me, were he here.’

  ‘But he is not, and neither is his presence required. I need no further time, or advice, sir. I have clearly said I have made my decision and have terminated my contract with you. Goodbye.’

  A moment ago Faye had employed the small brass bell on the table by her side; her housekeeper had promptly appeared and was now hovering, awaiting an instruction.

  ‘Mr Westwood is leaving, Mrs Gideon.’

  A barking cough from the servant reminded the man she was ready to show him out.

  Westwood had sprung to his feet as Miss Shawcross did, an angry blush burning in his cheeks at her curt dismissal; but he managed to jerk a bow. ‘As you wish; but I make no apology for striving to assist you in restoring your fortunes.’

  ‘Perhaps you might instead like to apologise for having depleted them in the first place,’ Faye replied coolly, anger and impatience sparking green fire in her eyes.

  ‘I mentioned to you there was a risk attached,’ he intoned piously.

  ‘But not quite as fulsomely as you bade me to pay no heed to it. Had I an inkling that my money might disappear within a short while of you handling it, sir, I would not have listened to a word you uttered.’

  Westwood’s eyes popped, but Faye was not intimidated by his display of fury. She indicated he should leave with a nod.

  Barely had the parlour door closed on his ramrod-straight back when it again opened and a boy hurtled over the threshold.

  ‘Are we poor?’

  ‘Of course not, my dear.’ Faye held out her arms to her half-brother, catching Michael into her embrace. ‘We are just not quite as well off as once we were.’

  ‘I can still go to school in Warwick?’

  ‘Indeed you can! And I hope to have some better reports from your headmaster when you return in the autumn, young man.’

  Michael looked sheepish at the reminder of his misbehaviour. ‘I know I shouldn’t have got into that fight.’

  ‘No you shouldn’t...but neither should you allow those boys to bully you.’ Faye ruffled her half-brother’s fair hair. She felt guilty that Michael had been mocked by some older pupils when the news circulated about his overdue school fees. The headmaster’s letter had been one of the first indications that all was not well. She had accepted Westwood’s explanation that the matter was just an oversight. How she regretted having been so naive!

  But now she had terminated the lawyer’s contract the periodic sum the charlatan had charged to nurture her investments would again be available for essentials. They weren’t poor...but neither were they rich, nor even comfortably off as they had once been. Faye bitterly regretted having employed Westwood; but he had come recommended by the man she was to marry and thus she’d trusted the fellow to deliver what he’d promised. Now she suspected he was incompetent at best and corrupt at worst, but she had no proof that he’d done anything underhand. She’d willingly signed the documents, handing him control of half her father’s bequest. Fighting Westwood in court and losing the battle would certainly end in her destitution. With her younger siblings relying on her she couldn’t afford any such action...and no doubt Mr Westwood was aware of that fact.

  At twelve years old Michael had many more years at school; further economies would need to be made if her half-brother were to stay in Warwick. Yet she must be even-handed; she also had her half-sister’s future to consider. As though that young lady were aware of Faye’s reflection she skipped into the room.

  ‘May we go out this afternoon?’ Claire asked excitedly. ‘I saw the caravans from my window. There are crowds gathering already on the village green.’

  ‘I saw them, too! May we go?’ Michael interrupted his sister to add his own plea to be allowed to visit the local midsummer fair. The Romanies arrived annually and stayed for a few days to entertain the locals before moving on to another town.

  ‘Yes, indeed, we shall go and enjoy ourselves; only a few pennies each to spend, though,’ Faye cautioned. She sighed happily; a break from the unpleasant anxiety that had beset them all would be very welcome.

  Just a few days ago at breakfast she’d unsuspectingly opened the letter from Westwood, finally admitting the truth. From her spontaneous gasp of dismay the children had learned something was amiss. Faye had been tempted to shield them from the dreadful news. But what use was procrastination when they must know immediately that savings had to be made.

  ‘I’m going to fetch my new bonnet and stitch some ribbon on it.’ Claire skipped towards the door.

  ‘Bill Perkins won’t be going, so you’re wasting your time wearing it for him,’ Michael ribbed.

  ‘I’m not bothered about him anyway...’ his sister retorted.

  ‘No bickering, if you please,’ Faye reprimanded wryly.

  Claire had developed a crush on Bill Perkins after the young farmer rescued her from a ditch. Following a heavy bout of rain she’d lost her footing and slipped down into the sludge. The fellow had a fiancée, but always stopped to pass the time of day with them all.

  ‘I have been thinking about that trip to town we spoke of.’ Faye’s thoughts had jumped from nice Bill Perkins to another worthy gentleman: a faceless, nameless person her sister—God willing—was yet to meet.

  ‘Must we go to London for my debut?’ Claire asked with a pronounced lack of enthusiasm. ‘It’ll be an expensive trip and I’m not sure I want to bother.’ A private smile curved her lips. ‘I might find a husband h
ereabouts.’

  ‘Your dowry is still safe and as you are so pretty you will need no costly embellishment like some of the plain misses.’ Faye tried to encourage her sister with a jocular comment. But the praise was justified. Claire was indeed a beauty and regularly drew attention from the lusty youths in Wilverton, the small town about a half-mile distant. Claire had never shown interest in having a local beau before. Yet, oddly, Faye had just seen her sister look like the cat with the cream when talking of finding a mate in the neighbourhood.

  It was said that Claire resembled her; Faye believed that her half-sister took after Deborah Shawcross in looks. But they rarely spoke about her late father’s second wife. Even before Deborah absconded to Ireland to join her lover the woman had been an embarrassment.

  ‘You should have your Season in London, because I know you will have a wonderful time and meet a splendid fellow and fall in love.’ Faye’s confident tone barely lifted Claire’s frown. But it amused Michael and he made much of patting at his yawning mouth, chortling.

  ‘Aunt Agatha has invited us to stay with her in Hammersmith,’ Faye continued. ‘I’ll write and let her know that we would be pleased to accept her hospitality in the spring.’

  ‘I’d sooner stay here,’ Michael piped up.

  ‘You will be safely out of the way at school, young man.’

  ‘Might I go and stay with Stanley Scott?’

  ‘I don’t think so, Michael,’ Faye said apologetically. ‘The cost of the fare to Scotland is rather a lot.’ Her brother had received an invitation from his school chum’s parents to holiday with them in Edinburgh until the autumn term.

  ‘Shall I ask him to come here?’ Michael asked, but not very optimistically.

  ‘You know we don’t really have the room for guests.’ Faye gave her brother a rueful smile. Mulberry House was small—nothing like the castle in which the Scotts lived—but, that apart, another mouth to feed would be an additional financial burden. Despite her logic and prudence Faye felt mean denying her brother a friend for the holidays.

 

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