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A Dangerous Kind of Lady

Page 31

by Mia Vincy


  “And I love you.” She tilted her head. “Considering I had never uttered those words before today, I’m getting quite good at saying them, aren’t I?”

  “Do keep practicing, though.”

  “Every day.”

  Which reminded her: One thing remained undone.

  She took one step away from him. Gripping both his hands, she looked into his beloved face. His fingers curled around hers.

  “Guy,” she said slowly, “now that we are completely free…”

  “Yes?”

  “Perhaps this might be a good time for me to ask you…”

  “Yes?”

  She inhaled deeply, and as her chest swelled with air and joy and love, she felt her mouth widen into a broad, helpless smile. “I was wondering, Guy Roth, if you would do me a great honor…and marry me?”

  His smile matched hers. “I thought you’d never ask.” He lifted her hands and pressed a light kiss to her knuckles. “Yes, Arabella Larke, I will marry you. Yes.”

  The gown made for Arabella’s wedding was no more beautiful than her other gowns, but it transformed her as no other outfit had ever done. She studied herself in the mirror, examining every inch of the white skirt and bodice, the profusion of bluebells bursting around the hem. She looked utterly like herself and yet like someone completely new.

  It took her a moment to understand why.

  Every day of her life she had dressed as if she was donning armor, readying to fight in the world she saw as a battlefield.

  The world was not a battlefield today. She would find another battle another day; that was who she was and she was exactly as she ought to be. But today, after a lifetime of fighting, it occurred to Arabella that she had finally won. She hadn’t even known what she was fighting for, and she still wasn’t sure how she had earned this victory, but she would happily claim it as her own.

  The carriage was ready, but Arabella was not. Mama had not yet appeared, so she picked up the skirts of her beautiful gown and dashed into Papa’s study.

  She ignored the birds, which, in the end, were only dead, stuffed birds, and looked up at the portrait of her twin brother. Beautiful, beloved Oliver. The perpetual little boy who had always been part of her, and always would be. Who had left her too soon, but always walked at her side.

  There you are, little brother, she thought.

  His smile today was sweet, like the little boy she had loved, and fond, like the young man she had never known.

  I’m getting married today. To someone I love who loves me too.

  I’m happy for you, was his response. You deserve it.

  “I miss you.” Those words she spoke out loud. “I wish you were here. I’m sorry you died.”

  He was only a portrait and he could not speak, but she heard the words as surely as if he had spoken out loud too: “I miss you too, but I’m glad you lived.”

  The door opened and in came Mama.

  “There you are. The carriage is waiting. What are you doing?”

  “Talking to Oliver.”

  Her mother took her hand, and they stood together, looking at the portrait of the little boy, who had nothing left to say.

  “I love you, Mama.”

  Her mother pressed a kiss to Arabella’s temple. “I love you too, my dear.”

  Again the door opened. It was Papa this time, coming to stand at Arabella’s other side. For a long moment, they didn’t speak.

  “I hope you’ll be happy, my girl,” he finally said. “And I’ll say this for Hardbury: At least he can handle you.”

  “He can try.”

  Papa laughed. “Yes, I suppose he can. I…” His laughter faltered, and his eyes fled from her, up to the wall. When he turned back, he took her hand. “I’ve done badly by you, I know. But I’m proud to call you my daughter. You’ve grown up to be a fine woman, and that’s despite me, not because of me. Yes, you’re a fine woman indeed. If a little proud and stubborn.”

  On her other side, Mama laughed. “Proud and stubborn, is she, Peter?” she said archly. “Remind you of anyone?”

  Arabella could not remember a time she had stood like this, flanked by her parents, the family connected, laughing together at their own folly.

  “We will come to visit, Papa, as often as you please. You’ll have plenty of time with the children here, if we are blessed with any. I truly hope that at least one of them will take after you.”

  “A little man of science?”

  “Or a little woman.”

  He snorted. “Thank you. But even if you are not so blessed, I hope you will still sometimes visit your foolish old father. Now,” he added more briskly. “We’d best get you to the church before Hardbury starts panicking you’ve run off again.”

  The little church was full, and as Arabella and her father entered, every head turned.

  Every head but one: Guy’s.

  He was waiting at the altar, his broad back tall and straight. A beam of sunlight broke through the stained glass to paint his hair with gold and red and blue.

  Their slow walk began. Arabella kept her eyes on Guy. Still he did not turn.

  When they reached the altar, Papa kissed her cheek and stepped aside, leaving her next to her bridegroom. She looked at him, and perhaps he felt her gaze, because finally, he turned. His eyes traveled over her face.

  And something wondrous happened.

  Guy Roth smiled.

  It was a warm smile, a joyous smile. A smile full of pleasure, simply because she was there.

  Guy smiled at her because he was happy that she was alive.

  And that was the most marvelous thing in the world.

  Acknowledgments

  My thanks to May Peterson, Johanie Martinez-Cools of Tessera Editorial, and Melinda Utendorf, for their valuable feedback and editorial skills, which immensely benefited this book.

  The Longhope Abbey Series

  Available Now

  A Beastly Kind of Earl

  A Dangerous Kind of Lady

  A Wicked Kind of Husband

  Coming Next

  A Scandalous Kind of Duke

  For news on release dates, future books, and more, sign up at miavincy.com/news or visit miavincy.com.

  Each book in this series can be read as a standalone, and the books can be read in any order. As the characters move through the same world, they do appear in each other's stories, but without any overarching plot.

  About the Author

  Mia Vincy holds degrees in English Literature and journalism, but she has managed to overcome the negative effects of this education and now writes historical romances.

  Mia’s studies and former work as a journalist, communications specialist, and copyeditor took her to more than sixty countries around the world. She is now settled in Victoria, Australia.

  For more, visit miavincy.com.

 

 

 


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