The Good, the Bad, and the Duke
Page 32
“Here?” The confusion on her face was simply adorable.
He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. “I never had much patience when gifts are to be opened.” Still holding her hand, he addressed the crowd below them. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have an announcement.” He pulled the deed from his waistcoat pocket.
The murmurs in the crowd grew to a low roar, then quieted like children anxious for a treat from their nurserymaids.
“Tonight is not only a celebration for the hospital that will be built to honor my late brother, but it’s also to honor another new charity, Aubrey’s Place. My wife-to-be is starting a home for unwed mothers.”
The crowd grew silent. Daphne’s hand tightened in his.
“This is the deed to the Winterford property, the location Lady Daphne has chosen for Aubrey’s Place. In addition, I’m pledging twenty-five thousand pounds. The Marquess of Pembrooke and the Earl of Somerton have matched my pledges. Please join me tonight in support of this worthy cause.”
The Duchess of Langham and the Duchess of Renton nodded their approval. The smiles on their faces made his throat tighten. Pembrooke, Somerton, Langham, and Renton lifted their glasses in a silent toast. With a tilt of his head he acknowledged their support. That was his new family, and because of the woman beside him, he was accepted.
“Paul, what have you done? I thought you were going to use that building for the hospital.” He’d done the right thing if the trembling in her voice was any indication.
“No. I had my solicitors purchase the property surrounding Aubrey’s Place. Our charities will be next to one another. Mrs. McBride has agreed to be the house manager.” He raised her hand to his lips again. “Are you happy?”
“I’m stunned and ecstatic. But why?” she asked in bewilderment.
“I promised I’d make this right between us. I don’t want there to be any confusion about my motives—selfish as they are.”
Her adorable brow crinkled into neat lines. “What are they?”
“I want us to be lovers for the rest of our lives.”
“Always.” The tears in her eyes took his breath away. “How will I ever thank you?”
“By loving me and staying by my side forever.”
THE MIDNIGHT CRYER RETURNS WITH A VENGEANCE
Gentle readers, never fear—a fire may have destroyed our office, but the press will not be silenced. Not when there are tales to tell.
Would it surprise any of you, my dear readers, to discover that a certain reformed duke was seen purchasing a fur muff on Christmas Eve? What makes this piece so unusual is that His Grace paid twice the asking price for this gift … AND … purchased the most exquisite moonstone pin as an accompaniment for his lady love. Indeed, the nuptials are set in the very near future. Once this intrepid reporter discovers the secret wedding plans, I will divulge all!
MOONSTONE, MOONGLOW, MOONLIGHT … MOONBEAM?
I must ask your opinion, intelligent readers, coincidence? I think not.
Well, whatever the truth, this paper wishes the betrothed couple a happy life.
As for the story we’d promised you regarding the truth of the “reformed” duke’s birth, it seems there is no story at all. This intrepid reporter scoured the city for retired servants of Southart House who could shed light on the scandal. One such person, the old housekeeper, Lucy Porter from Leyton, was only too happy to share what she knew. Seems the duke was born in a parsley bed. The servant chuckled, then changed her story by saying that his birth occurred under a gooseberry bush. Immediately, this reporter knew he’d had the wool pulled over his eyes.
What a disappointment. Alas, gentle readers, as is the case with a few of our stories, the truth is exceedingly boring.
Now we’re on the hunt for a new story—hopefully one that promises lots of lurid details. We’ve heard that the second son of a powerful duke (rhythms with “Havensham”) had his heart broken when, as a young lad, he’d thought he’d fallen in love at first sight. His wounds so deep that he’s sworn off all women.
Now, my faithful readers, whoever brings me his story will be the recipient of a five-thousand-pound fortune.
Good luck and Godspeed, my gentle friends. However you celebrate the holidays, may they shine like a pot of gold and overflow with riches.
Trustworthy and respectfully yours,
THE MIDNIGHT CRYER
Epilogue
Christmas Eve—one year later
Southart House
London
“No jumping on people. Nor shall you eat from someone else’s plate. It took the duchess over an hour to calm Cook down after she’d spent all morning dicing the candied dates and cherries, then you found you in the middle of it all. I am too busy with the hospital plans to continue with these lectures. I’m considering hiring someone to give you deportment lessons. Don’t look away when I’m reprimanding you, darling. It’s unbecoming. Now, where was I?”
For a moment, the hallway was silent.
“Ah, I remember. No climbing the garlands ever again. Ives tendered his resignation over that fiasco. Because of my excellent persuasion skills, along with our under-butler Tait, I convinced Ives to withdraw it.”
The gentle admonishment in her husband’s voice drew Daphne away from her errand to hide their nieces’ and nephews’ presents in the rose salon. Slowly, she entered their bedroom. In actuality, it was her bedroom, but every night Paul slept with her. His bedroom was drafty, or so he said.
She didn’t care as long as they were together.
“That little incident of unwrapping Lady Margaret’s present was absolutely uncivilized. You know better,” Paul scolded. “Now hold still so I can adjust your ribbon.”
“Paul? What on earth?” Her husband stood in front of the middle window seat tying the most elaborate bow she’d ever seen—on his cat, Rufina. The feline was not amused if the rapid flickering of her tail was any indication.
“Hello, Moonbeam,” he drawled. “You’re just in time. Tell me if you think this is too tight.” He pushed two fingers under the ribbon measuring the fit.
Daphne leaned over his arm for a peek. “It looks perfect. But why so formal? It’s just family.”
“Rufina is dressed for our Christmas Eve festivities.” Paul lifted an eyebrow. “Renton and your mother won’t be here until later. However, I invited Pembrooke and his family along with Somerton and his family over early. Lady Margaret suggested it.”
Daphne tried hard to hide her smile but failed miserably. Ever since she and Paul had married, Lady Margaret came over regularly for tea with Paul and Rufina. The majority of the time her father, Pembrooke, attended, too. Throughout the halls of Southart House, laughs and giggles bounced against the walls when those three were together.
The little girl had wrapped Paul around her finger as neatly as the bow on Rufina’s neck. Just like she’d done with her own father.
It was really very sweet and dear. Alex and her loving husband had put their differences aside and were now as close as brothers once again.
“Margaret and Truesdale want to sing Christmas carols this evening. Out of the goodness of my black heart, I invited the Duke and Duchess of Langham, the Marquess and Marchioness of McCalpin, along with that infernally irritating Lord William.” He leaned close as if divulging a secret. “Truth be told, I like the irreverent fellow. I’m glad Devan is traveling to Northumberland with William after the New Year. Devan will have some friends in the area when he takes his new position.”
Her husband’s heart was anything but black. Pure gold was more like it. After they’d married, all of Daphne’s family, including the Duke and Duchess of Langham, had embraced Paul into their welcoming folds. Paul and his father, the Duke of Renton, had become close because of Paul’s half brother, Somerton, who had helped ease the troubled waters between the two men.
Paul gifted Rufina a scratch under her chin, and the cat carefully curled into a neat ball on the window seat almost as if mindful of her bow. Paul str
etched out his hand, and Daphne wrapped hers around his.
“Do you realize, love, at this time last year I had no family at all?” He brought her hand to his lips and held it there while his gaze settled on hers. “After I learned Renton was my father, I thought my life was ruined, but you, my dear darling one, gave everything back to me.”
“Proof that Christmas miracles are real. Now hold me.” Daphne moved into his outstretched arms. When they closed around her, she sighed with contentment. “You have more family than you know what to do with.”
His hand caressed the back of her neck as he rubbed his lips against the top of her head. “Hmm, can one ever have enough?”
Staying in his strong embrace, she leaned back and studied his handsome face. “I suppose not.”
“I’ve gained a father, two brothers, and two sisters-in-law, and all sorts of nieces and nephews. Don’t get me started on our relationships with the Duke and Duchess of Langham’s family.” His hand gently cradled her cheek. “Didn’t Shakespeare say, ‘What a tangled web we weave’?”
“Walter Scott wrote it in his poem Marmion,” Daphne murmured while pressing a kiss against his palm.
“I stand corrected by my beautiful wife who is also my stepsister.”
“Don’t say that. It’s indecent and ribald,” she scolded.
“You mean ‘wife’?”
The innocent expression on his face made her laugh. “You, my dear duke, are incorrigible.”
“Such a terrible thing to say about your husband when I have your Christmas present.” He picked up a black box and gave it to her. “Open it.”
The smile on his face was breathtaking.
Slowly, Daphne opened the lid. “Oh, Paul,” she gasped. Inside, her heart-shaped rock was set in a gold pendant surrounded by rubies. “It’s beautiful.”
He rocked back on his heels and smiled. “The jeweler thought I’d lost my mind when I told him I wanted to give a rock to my duchess for Christmas.”
“Will you help me put it on?” She turned, and he quickly placed it around her neck and secured the clasp.
His lips trailed up the side of her neck. “You have the softest skin, Daph. Let me tell you a little secret.” He kissed the sensitive skin below her right ear. “You are the most beguiling, beautiful woman a man could ever fall in love with. Thankfully, you chose me.”
“I did choose you, didn’t I? I’m the one who asked you to marry me.” Daphne turned to face him and kissed his cheek.
“And without a proper courtship, I might add. You ruined me.” He brushed his lips across hers. “I liked being ruined. Will you ruin me again tonight after our guests leave?”
“It’d be my pleasure, Your Grace,” Daphne whispered. “Now I have a little secret to tell you.”
“Intrigue from my darling wife? Do tell.”
Daphne stood on tiptoes and nibbled on his earlobe before she whispered in his ear, “Your Christmas present will be late this year.”
“How late?” he asked in a similar whisper before kissing her soundly.
She broke the kiss. “Six months.”
“What is it?” He kissed the indentation at the hollow of her throat. “You have the most glorious neck. I should write an ode—”
“A baby.”
Slowly, he raised his head. “A baby?”
Her throat tightened. Tears came so easy these days. “Mm-hmm.”
His beautiful blue eyes glistened while he bit his lip and slowly shook his head as if trying to contain his emotions. “What have you done, you wicked, wicked woman?” He held her at arm’s length and slowly examined her from head to toe.
“Well, whatever I’ve done, I didn’t do it alone.” She smiled.
“I’ll tell you what you’ve done,” he whispered as he once again drew her into his arms. With the softest touch of his thumb, he wiped away a rebel tear from her cheek. “You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.” Gently, he pressed his lips against hers. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine. Dr. Camden made a call this afternoon while you were out with Alex and Somerton. He confirmed my suspicions.”
He kissed her again. “I don’t think we should wait until this evening. I think you should ruin me right now.”
She buried her head against his chest. “What about our guests?”
“Sweetheart, what good is it being a duke and a duchess if we can’t be fashionably late to our own party?” He swept her up into his arms and carried her to bed, where he proceeded to let her ruin him.
Twice.
Also By Janna MacGregor
THE BAD LUCK BRIDE
THE BRIDE WHO GOT LUCKY
THE LUCK OF THE BRIDE
Praise for
THE LUCK OF THE BRIDE
“Brimming with family, hope, and tender sensuality, this shrewdly plotted, gently paced romance is especially satisfying.”
—Library Journal
THE BRIDE WHO GOT LUCKY
“Rising star MacGregor once again demonstrates her remarkable gift for effortlessly elegant writing, richly nuanced characterization, and lushly sensual love scenes in the second brilliant installment in her new Cavensham Heiresses series, following The Bad Luck Bride.”
—Booklist (starred review)
“MacGregor has a real talent for developing every facet of a romance.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“A heady mix of action, wit, and sexual tension. Readers will eagerly turn the pages to see how this intense story concludes.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Deliciously provocative in historical detail … there is everything in this novel and more. There is tingling suspense, an intriguing mystery, sizzling chemistry between Emma and Nick, emotional upheavals and of course a scorching romance. This is definitely a keeper! The Bride Who Got Lucky is absolutely brilliant!”
—Romance Junkies (5 stars)
THE BAD LUCK BRIDE
“An enjoyably complex treat. Winningly, although there’s plenty of sizzle between the newlyweds in multiple passionate scenes, their efforts to build a meaningful partnership outside the bedroom make this a mature addition to any Regency shelf. An impressive debut.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Debut author MacGregor brings England’s Regency era to life in this sparkling launch for the Cavensham Heiresses romance series. This charming tale features a refreshing array of happy families, solid relationships … The book’s promise of a delicious story is well realized, building anticipation for future installments.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Newcomer MacGregor delivers a well-paced, powerfully plotted debut where love and revenge vie for center stage. Here is a romance that reminds readers that love is complicated, healing and captivating. MacGregor’s characters are carefully drawn, their emotions realistic and their passions palpable. Watch for MacGregor to make her mark on the genre.”
—RT Book Reviews
“Readers, rejoice! We have a new writer to celebrate. Janna MacGregor writes with intelligence and heart. The Bad Luck Bride is a full-bodied romance about what it truly means to love, to forgive, and to heal. Plus, it introduces us to characters we will enjoy as they grow and develop. Smart, smart romance.”
—New York Times bestselling author Cathy Maxwell
“Delightful! Janna MacGregor bewitched me with her captivating characters and a romance that sizzles off the page. I’m already a huge fan!”
—New York Times bestselling author Eloisa James
“The Bad Luck Bride is a stroke of good luck for readers—the intricate plot, arresting characters, and rich emotional resonance will leave you swooning.”
—New York Times bestselling author Sabrina Jeffries
“Janna MacGregor’s The Bad Luck Bride is a seductive tale filled with suspense and unforgettable characters. A must-buy for historical romance readers.”
—USA Today bestselling author Alexandra Hawkins
“A diamond-bright debut, with a passionate
heroine and worthy hero to root for.”
—Maggie Robinson, author of The Unsuitable Secretary
About the Author
Janna MacGregor was born and raised in the boot heel of Missouri. She credits her darling mom for introducing her to the happily-ever-after world of romance novels. Janna writes stories where compelling and powerful heroines meet and fall in love with their equally matched heroes. She is the mother of triplets and lives in Kansas City with her very own dashing rogue, and two smug, but not surprisingly, perfect pugs. She loves to hear from readers. Visit her at www.JannaMacGregor.com, or sign up for email updates here.
Thank you for buying this
St. Martin’s Press ebook.
To receive special offers, bonus content,
and info on new releases and other great reads,
sign up for our newsletters.
Or visit us online at
us.macmillan.com/newslettersignup
For email updates on the author, click here.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Prologue
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
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Epilogue
Also by Janna MacGregor
Praise