A Hellion’s Midnight Kiss

by Lauren Smith

  “His Lordship should be fine. He’ll need his bandages changed daily until the wound fully heals. No riding, bending over, or anything else that requires physical exertion until the stiches have been removed.”

  Daphne glanced at Moira and then she turned back to the doctor. “I believe we can manage that.”

  “What can we do for him now?”

  “For now, you must let him rest. I will leave you some further instructions before I go.”

  “Thank you.” Moira wiped away a tear before she shooed the footmen away.

  “I’ll be back with some hot tea,” Moira said before she, too, slipped out of the room.

  After Daphne thanked the doctor and saw him out, she returned to Lachlan’s side and set a chair next to the chaise, thankful she could just sit beside him. She curled her fingers around his hand. He had protected her when she was desperate for help. Now she would protect him.

  A few minutes later, Moira returned with tea and poured them both a cup.

  “Is he doing better?” she asked.

  Daphne had been paying close attention to Lachlan’s breathing. It had deepened rather than become shallow. That was a good sign.

  “Yes. I think so.”

  Moira swallowed hard and looked at Daphne. “I pray you are right. I cannot lose him, not like I did William.”

  Daphne placed a hand over Moira’s wrist, squeezing it gently. “You won’t lose him.”

  “You are so sure… How?”

  Daphne smiled sadly. “Because Lachlan is a fighter. He won’t let go of life, not without a struggle. It’s one of the reasons I love him.”

  “You love him?” Moira’s eyes softened with sorrow. “But you must know why he brought you here.”

  “I overheard you talking in the study. It’s why I left. What I didn’t hear was that his feelings had changed.”

  “He said he loved you. I know my son. He spoke the truth when he said he loved you. I didn’t want to believe, but it was in his eyes, in his voice.” Moira stroked Lachlan’s cheek and he groaned.

  “If he can love you, then I believe I can too,” Moira said. “I already was fond of you, my dear. I couldn’t have chosen a better woman for him. Fortunately, I didn’t need to.”

  Daphne’s throat constricted as she focused on Lachlan, afraid she might burst into tears if she looked at Moira right now. It was all she ever wanted, to be accepted and loved.

  I’m so afraid it won’t last, that this dream will prove false.

  Chapter 11

  Lachlan woke, his mouth dry and his head throbbing. A soft weight rested on his ribs. He moved and felt a feminine body slumped over his chest. He blinked, clearing his vision, and saw Daphne sitting beside him on a chair in the drawing room.

  What had happened?

  The last thing he remembered was standing on the side of the road, holding her in his arms, after she agreed to return home. He reached for his temple and touched bandages. The drawing room door opened a crack and his mother peered inside. She looked between him and Daphne.

  He carefully slipped off of the chaise, then eased Daphne back in her chair. He touched his head again gingerly, fighting off a wave of dizziness.

  “You need to stay down,” his mother admonished, trying to force him back to the chaise.

  “I will, in a moment. I wish to speak with you outside first.” He pointed to the hall. They both exited the room and he leaned against the corridor wall to preserve his strength while his head pounded.

  “Lachlan, you scared me.” His mother embraced him with a gentle, careful hug, reminding him of when he was a wee lad and he’d come to her afraid of shadows. She’d held him just like this and whispered the words only mothers knew that could put a child’s fears to rest.

  “I’m all right, Mother.” He kissed her forehead and then gently lifted her arms away so she would step back. He needed to see her face and he couldn’t do that while she hugged him.

  “I was so afraid,” Moira’s voice trembled. “I couldn’t lose you too.”

  “You didn’t. I’m right here.” He looked back through the doorway, where he could still see Daphne’s blood covered, sleeping form.

  “She’s a sweet, brave lass and I want her to stay,” Moira said. “She loves you, despite the terrible reason you brought her here.”

  “I love her more than I ever thought I could love a woman. I thought, at first, fate was being cruel by letting me fall in love with the daughter of the man who drove William to his death, but she’s suffered too. Greatly. And when I’m with her, my heart doesn’t feel so broken.”

  Moira hugged him again. “Maybe we can finally heal.”

  “Aye.”

  “My lord?”

  Lachlan turned. Mary stood behind them. She held a small rosewood box on her palm. “I collected each pearl. What should I do with them?”

  Lachlan glanced at his mother. “I have an idea. Assuming you don’t mind, Mother.” He winked when she raised her brows.

  “What are you up to, Lachlan?” she asked.

  “Something wonderful.”

  A week later, Daphne sat curled in a library chair, reading by the fire. Beside her, in his own chair, Lachlan pretended to read. His head wound was nearly healed after she’d spent every day looking after him. This was the first day in which he’d insisted she take a few hours to do something she enjoyed and not fuss over him. When she’d suggested reading in the library, he’d agreed. Yet from the moment they’d sat down with their books, his focus remained on her. Every so often, she looked up and he hastily returned his attention to his book.

  “You’re watching me,” she said. “Why?”

  He smiled, set his book aside, and waved her over. She put her own book down, crawled onto his lap, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “I’ve been waiting for the right time to give you this.” He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a small, velvet pouch. He offered it on his palm. She took it, loosened the drawstrings, opened the velvet. She paused and looked at Lachlan in puzzlement before she tilted the bag upside down. Pearls tumbled into her hand. This necklace held two strands of pearls.

  “My pearls… But… they can’t be. Mother’s necklace had only a single strand of pearls.”

  “The others are a gift from my mother. She would have given them to you at some point.”

  “But, I cannot take hers, not when…”

  “Hush, lass. She wanted you to have them. To let you know that you’re as dear to her as you are to me.”

  Daphne peered closely at the double-strand necklace, her lips trembling.

  She pressed the back of her fingers against her mouth. “I thought I’d lost them forever when I left that day. I’d thought I’d lost you too,” she admitted.

  “I’m not that easy to be rid of, you know.” His tone was teasing and mischief lit his eyes.

  “I know. You almost died and…” she choked, the terror of that day still fresh in her mind. She could have lost him forever.

  “But I didn’t, now dry those eyes. I don’t ever want to see you crying on my account.” He wiped at a tear that trailed down her face.

  She sniffled and raised the necklace to her cheek, brushing the smooth round orbs against her skin before she kissed them.

  A piece of her past had been restored through Lachlan’s thoughtfulness. Her heart had shattered violently from Lachlan’s betrayal and she’d run fast and far from the dream world Lachlan had let her glimpse. When she’d broken the strand and the pearls had scattered across the floor, she hadn’t stopped to retrieve them. She’d tried hard to forget the pearls over the last few days, not knowing what had happened when they’d fallen. They’d represented the life she’d had before her mother died, and she’d had to face the truth. That part of her life was over, had been over for years. She was living her new life, with man she loved with all of her heart. Yet he’d given her back this last bit of her mother and Moira had given her a set of pearls too. The unity of those two stra
nds together was beautiful not because the pearls were lovely but because of what they represented. Time was healing old wounds. Willian’s death and her father’s imprisonment were the past. She and Lachlan were the future.

  Lachlan took the pearls from her and fastened the clasp around her neck. Their gentle weight against her collarbones was comforting.

  “I love you lass, never doubt it.” Lachlan’s winter-blue eyes held no frost, only the heat of a winter fire.

  She brushed her fingers through his hair, careful not to touch his barely healed wound. “I love you too.”

  “Prove it,” he said.

  She brushed her nose against his. “You’re quite commanding, aren’t you?”

  “Only when I expect to be kissed.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and she laughed, but her heart was so full that she could scarcely breathe. She very slowly leaned her head into his, biting her lip as she paused an inch from his mouth.

  “Do you know what I keep thinking about?” she asked.

  “What?” His eyes fixed on her mouth.

  “About our wedding, and the moment we entered the church together.”

  Lachlan’s eyes met hers and held. “That is a day I will never forget. I could breathe again when I took you in my arms and pledged myself to you. You gave me my life back.” He brushed a finger over the pearls. “My lady in pearls.”

  “You did the same for me.” She closed the last inch between them. Their lips met and time froze, like an errant beam of sunlight that strikes a chandelier’s crystal and fractures into a rainbow that illuminates the world around it.

  We are two broken hearts made whole, two lost souls made one.

  * * *

  Wait! This isn’t the end…I know you were panicking there for a minute right?

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  Other Titles By Lauren Smith

  Historical

  The League of Rogues Series

  Wicked Designs

  His Wicked Seduction

  Her Wicked Proposal

  Wicked Rivals

  Her Wicked Longing

  His Wicked Secret

  His Wicked Embrace

  The Earl of Pembroke

  His Wicked Secret

  The Last Wicked Rogue

  Never Kiss a Scot

  The Earl of Kent

  The Seduction Series

  The Duelist’s Seduction

  The Rakehell’s Seduction

  The Rogue’s Seduction

  The Gentleman’s Seduction

  Standalone Stories

  Tempted by A Rogue

  Bewitching the Earl

  Seducing an Heiress on a Train

  Devil at the Gates

  Boudreaux’s Lady

  Sins and Scandals

  An Earl By Any Other Name

  A Gentleman Never Surrenders

  A Scottish Lord for Christmas

  * * *

  Contemporary

  The Surrender Series

  The Gilded Cuff

  The Gilded Cage

  The Gilded Chain

  Love in London

  Forbidden

  Seduction

  Climax

  Forever Be Mine

  * * *

  Paranormal

  Dark Seductions Series

  The Shadows of Stormclyffe Hall

  The Love Bites Series

  The Bite of Winter

  His Little Vixen

  Brotherhood of the Blood Moon Series

  Blood Moon on the Rise (coming soon)

  Brothers of Ash and Fire

  Grigori

  Mikhail

  Rurik

  * * *

  Sci-Fi Romance

  Cyborg Genesis Series

  Across the Stars

  The Krinar Chronicles

  The Krinar Eclipse

  About the Author

  * * *

  Lauren Smith is an Oklahoma attorney by day, author by night who pens adventurous and edgy romance stories by the light of her smart phone flashlight app. She knew she was destined to be a romance writer when she attempted to re-write the entire Titanic movie just to save Jack from drowning. Connecting with readers by writing emotionally moving, realistic and sexy romances no matter what time period is her passion. She’s won multiple awards in several romance subgenres including: New England Reader’s Choice Awards, Greater Detroit BookSeller’s Best Awards, and a Semi-Finalist award for the Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley Award.

  To Connect with Lauren, visit her at:

  www.laurensmithbooks.com

  lauren@laurensmithbooks.com

  Infinitely My Marquess

  Dawn Brower

  “Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”

  ― Lao Tzu

  This book is for everyone that believes in love and hope to one day find it. Sometimes you just have to have faith, and sometimes it has been there all along. Keep believing and someday love may find you.

  Prologue

  England 1795

  Wedding Bells echoed through the countryside, announcing the impending wedding of Lord Victor Simms, the second son of the Duke of Ashthrone, and Lady Penelope Everly. It wasn’t the first marriage for either one of them. Little Ryan Simms was excited to finally have a mother. It had been his father and him for as long as he could remember. Soon, he’d have a mother and two sisters as well—Delilah and Mirabella. Delilah was two years older than Ryan and had the blackest hair he’d ever seen. Mirabella had red hair and was a year younger than him. Ryan had celebrated his seventh birthday a month before the wedding.

  “How are you doing, my boy?” His father leaned down and ruffled his hair. “Are you happy?”

  “Yes, Papa,” he answered. He wanted to tell his father he’d never been happier, but he didn’t know if he could. His father seemed to have a lighter mood, and he didn’t want to remind him of sadder times. His touch had always been gentle, but he’d been gloomy more often than not. Even a boy of seven recognized grief, and though he’d never known his mother, Ryan still missed her every day. Lady Penelope couldn’t replace that hole, but she could fill it partially.

  “I’m glad,” his father said. “It feels wonderful to have joy in our lives. Now run off to sit with the nanny. Be a good boy.”

  Ryan did as his father said and ran to sit with his nanny in the pew. Delilah and Mirabella were already there. They sat with their back straight and somber expressions on their faces. Were they not glad to be a part of a whole family again? Why did they seem so—unhappy?

  Lady Penelope walked down the church aisle and joined Ryan’s father. The vicar said a lot of things Ryan didn’t fully understand, but he didn’t really care. All that mattered was he’d have a family at the end. One that would always be there for him, shower him with love, attention, and lots of hugs. He really wished he had someone who hugged him more often. He’d seen a mother and son once. He hadn’t known what he missed until that day. The woman had pulled her boy into her arms, hugging and kissing him as if he were the most precious thing to her.

  The vicar asked his father to repeat some words, and then Lady Penelope. They both had done as he asked. At the conclusion, he declared them wed. Everyone in the church clapped their hands. A smile filled Ryan’s face, and he clapped along with them.

  “He’s a foolish boy,” Delilah said, turning her nose up in the air. “I can’t believe we have to deal with him every day now.”

  Mirabella nodded, but Ryan didn’t think she even understood Delilah. Girls
were an enigma he couldn’t help wondering if he’d ever figure out. Especially since he’d never had to deal with any of them before. “What is foolish?”

  “He doesn’t even realize what an insult is,” Delilah scoffed. “I suppose that might make things more interesting.

  Ryan didn’t think so, but at the moment he didn’t care to decipher what she meant. He shrugged and tugged nanny’s sleeve. “Is it time to leave yet? I’m sleepy.” He was seven, and he’d already done more than he usually did. His father didn’t let him leave the house much. It was as if he feared he’d lose Ryan if he lost sight of him. Nanny coddled him at his father’s behest.

  “As soon as the happy couple leaves, we can follow behind them.”

  Ryan nodded and waited for his father and his new mother to depart the church. Then nanny could take him home. Maybe he could play with his toy soldiers in his room. He rather liked the peace and quiet. There’d been too much noise of late in his home. Everyone had to come to visit for the wedding. He even had a new cousin—Lady Estella. She was a tiny baby and couldn’t play with him, but he liked looking at her. Nanny helped take care of her while they visited so he got to peek at her often.

  Finally, his father and Lady Penelope headed down the aisle. After they exited the church, everyone stood to follow them out. Nanny took his hand and turned to Delilah and Mirabella. “Come with me, girls.”

  “We don’t have to listen to you,” Delilah said haughtily.

  “Yeah, no listen,” Mirabella echoed.

  Nanny let out an exasperated breath. “I don’t have time for a temper tantrum. You two come with me now, or I’ll wring your ears.”