by Wendy Vella
“How lovely to see you here,” he whispered, which made her giggle.
“And you also.”
Hannah felt her nerves ease as the ceremony began, and when she had to speak her vows she said them calmly, knowing that she would walk out of there today as Mrs. Hetherington. When they were declared man and wife, Alex took her shoulders and kissed her softly.
“I love you.”
“Oh, Alex, I love you too,” Hannah said, looking up at him. “So much.”
“Excellent.” He smiled before leading her back down the aisle.
Ben, Phoebe and Finn, and Lord Wooller congratulated them first, followed by the rest of their family and friends.
“Bella!” Hannah cried when her friend waddled toward her. “I cannot believe you came.”
“Of course I came.” They hugged as best they could. “Luke wanted me to remain at home, but I assured him I was more than capable of spending a few hours from the house. You look beautiful, Hannah.”
Hannah watched Luke Fletcher approach. He placed a hand on his wife’s back, and where once she would have been jealous, now she was not, as she had a husband who would do that to her.
“We shall make our way to Woolly’s now, Bella, where you can sit, and stay seated for the reception.”
“Luke, don’t fuss.”
“I like fussing,” he said, and then leaned forward to kiss Hannah’s cheek. “You look beautiful, Hannah, and congratulations.”
“Did you just kiss my wife, Fletcher?” Alex arrived at her side and placed a hand on her back, and Hannah almost purred.
“I did, and now I must get my wife to our carriage before she gives birth in the street.”
Hannah moved closer to her husband as together they watched them walk away.
“Are you leaning on me, wife?” Alex brushed a kiss on her head.
“I am husband.”
“Excellent. I like the idea of you leaning on me. I wonder how soon before you look like Bella?”
“I believe it takes nine months,” Hannah said, her heart fluttering at the prospect of a child.
“We shall have to get in a great deal of practice then.” The naughty words were whispered in her ear.
“What was that?” Hannah tried to see over the guests to where the loud cry came from.
“I believe Bella made that noise, love,” Alex said, leading her forward. “If my guess is accurate, we may have more than our wedding to celebrate soon.”
Esmay Fletcher was born twelve hours later. Her father was said to be quite undone, and Bella was tired, but faring well. The news was delivered to Hannah via Alex, who found her wandering about in his small garden the morning after their wedding.
“Hello, wife,” he said, pulling her into his arms and kissing her soundly. Thus far Alex could say married life agreed with him. Having Hannah close at hand was a marvelous thing. He had woken with her in his arms and after pulling her on top of him, he’d proceeded to kiss her breathless before making slow, sweet love to her. He knew there would be moments where they’d wanted to strangle each other, but those only added to what would be a wonderful life together.
“Hello.” She was picking flowers in a simple day dress, and looked so sweet he had to kiss her again.
“Bella and Luke have a daughter, named Esmay after Luke’s mother. Both are doing well, although Finn said that Luke was touch and go.”
Hannah laughed and then tucked a white bloom into his lapel.
“I think we should be studious in our practice for making a child, Alex.” Her eyes were filled with sultry promise, and Alex felt his body respond.
“I think that is a very good idea, Mrs. Hetherington.” Swinging her up in his arms, he walked back into the house… their house, which now, with Hannah in it, had suddenly become a home.
THE END
The Lady’s Dangerous Love
Chapter One
“Primrose Ainsley would make an ideal wife for you, Ben.”
“I don’t want a wife, Phoebe.”
Benjamin Hetherington fought the urge to loosen his necktie at his sister-in-law’s words, but as his arms were currently trapped by the women at his sides, he could do nothing but endure their lectures.
“But she is perfect, Ben. Sweet natured, and every inch a lady.”
“How do you know she is perfect? The woman never says a word. I have yet to hear her conversing at length with anyone. She could be Russian or Egyptian for all I know.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you know that is not true. She is a lovely young lady with a rich intellect,” Hannah said. “She’s humorous and speaks in melodious tones.”
“Well there you go, then. I want a wife who barks like a bullfrog.”
“Why are you fighting this? You have to wed, and she would be the perfect wife for you,” Phoebe added.
“And I repeat, I have no wish for a wife.”
He’d been foolish enough to accept the invitation delivered by his sisters-in-law to walk with them through the gardens at Rossetter House, where they were at present attending a house party.
Just a stroll, Ben, as dear Hannah needs the exercise. Her belly looks like an overripe melon now.
Phoebe certainly had a way with words.
To his right walked Phoebe, Lady Levermarch. Married to his eldest brother, Finn, she was something of a force a nature. A rare beauty who made men’s heads turn and jaws drop. With her honey-blonde hair and curvaceous figure she could fool any man into thinking she was sweet and biddable—to their peril—should she wish it.
To his left walked his twin brother Alex’s wife, Hannah. Hers was a different beauty to Phoebe’s but equally as disturbing to men. With her porcelain skin and raven hair, she looked like a doll. What she actually was, was equally as opinionated and determined as Phoebe. However, she was also due to have her first child in four months, which had made her emotional and at times irrational... or so Alex had told him.
“But we wish for you to be as happy as us, Ben.”
“I am happy, thank you, Hannah.”
He thought about his brothers, who were likely playing billiards or reading somewhere in the huge mansion at their backs. He should have found them instead of agreeing to this walk.
Shooting Rossetter House a look, he noted the flags fluttering high up on the turrets. Ben liked to imagine those who had walked the great halls before him. Who had stomped the exact paths he had?
I bet they weren’t being hounded as I am.
“Primrose Ainsley is lovely. I spoke at length with her and Lady Jane, who is sponsoring her this season, yesterday and she told me she is a capable young woman. She plays the piano and sings well, and I believe is something of an expert gardener.”
“Another thing we do not have in common. I can’t tell the difference between a rose and ragwort.”
“She’s a little older also, which would suit you as she has no silly ways.”
“And I repeat, Phoebe, I have no wish for a wife, and definitely not one like Primrose Ainsley, who is as interesting to me as… as Lady Blain’s latest gout-swollen toe. Plus there is her smile.”
“What is wrong with her smile?”
“It’s not genuine. Besides, were I to take a wife, I would wish for a young woman to mold to my every wish,” he said bluntly, only to put them off. He really didn’t care how old Primrose Ainsley was. He was also not that callous he would expect someone to change for him. “Now please, when and if the time comes, I shall find my own wife, never, so this matter is at an end, thank you.” Ben hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but there had been a definite snap to it. Not that it would deter these two women. Tenacity was etched in their souls.
“Oh dear.”
“What?” He looked at Hannah, who had stopped. Her body was turned slightly as she stared at something over her shoulder. Ben turned, and his heart plummeted to his toes. There stood Primrose Ainsley. Pale-faced, her eyes seemed huge, and her bottom lip was trapped between her teeth.
Christ
!
“Miss Ainsley.” He released his sisters-in-law and started toward her. “Please allow me to—”
“I have no wish to be your wife, sir!”
Before he could reach her or speak in his defense, she’d hurried around him and was running down the path.
“Really, Ben!” Hannah scolded him. “Gout-swollen toe is all you could come up with… and in such a loud voice.”
He felt suddenly ill.
“Well, go after her, you fool!” Phoebe’s words were accompanied by a hard shove in the back.
“I can’t go after her if she’s alone!”
“We shall follow. Now make haste before you lose sight of her. Really, Ben, that was very shabby of you to speak that way.” She pointed a finger to where Primrose Ainsley was disappearing.
“Bloody hell, all right. But may I point out that this is entirely your fault… both of you. Had you not been hounding me, then I would not have been forced to speak as I did.”
“You could have done so in a more diplomatic manner,” Hannah snapped.
He didn’t wait to hear more, instead taking the shell path in pursuit of the fleeing Miss Ainsley.
Picking up the pace, he reached the end in time to watch her climb over a stile and disappear into the trees that bordered the gardens.
“If you will give me a moment, Miss Ainsley, I shall attempt to remove my foot from my mouth!” he called out to her.
She ignored him, picked up her skirts, and started running in earnest.
Ben was momentarily shocked. He’d never seen the woman do anything that wasn’t considered correct. Picking up her skirts and flashing her ankles did not fall into that category. Most evenings, Primrose Ainsley was seen blending into the walls of any ballroom, about as enticing as bread pudding.
Cursing his sisters-in-law again, Ben climbed the stile and followed. Silly girl; he’d find her weeping piteously against the trunk of a tree, and have to apologize profusely for something he hadn’t meant to do. Perhaps he’d thought it, but it had been unpardonably rude of him to say it out loud.
The problem was, Phoebe and Hannah had been at him for months now to marry, and he was heartily sick of it. He didn’t like to think of himself as mean, but he had been to say such a thing out loud. Anyone could have been in hearing distance—and as it turned out, had been.
“Bloody bothering hell.”
He didn’t want to marry, and that was the fact of the matter, but they were determined.
He followed her into the trees and over another stile. Where the hell was she going? He’d probably find her with a turned ankle and have to carry her back to the house.
He’d just about made the decision to return to the house, when the trees overhead thinned, and he walked into a small sun-filled clearing. Before him was a pond, and it was there he found Miss Ainsley—well actually, he found her shoes and bonnet first.
Looking at the pale peach slippers, Ben thought they would be no bigger than the length of his hand. A straw bonnet sat beside them, and a pair of white gloves. The owner was standing ankle-deep in water with her back to him.
“Miss Ainsley, allow me to apologize.”
“Go away, Mr. Hetherington.”
“I should not have spoken as I did.”
“I have no wish to hear what you have to say, and as my skirts are raised and my feet are bare, it is compromising for you to be out here with me alone. Especially considering your abhorrence for me.”
Her hair was pale, a mixture of honey and ash-blonde blended to make a pretty head of hair pinned into a simple bun. She wore cream, and a row of buttons ran the length of her spine. Above that he saw her pale skin. A few freckles were dotted here and there, and Ben wasn’t sure why the sight of her bent head and exposed neck made something clench inside him, but it did. He thought she looked lost and vulnerable standing out there in the water alone. His guilt magnified.
You’re an ass, Benjamin.
“Come out of the water, Miss Ainsley, and allow me to walk you back to the house.”
“I have no wish to spend time in your company, Mr. Hetherington, nor did I ask you to like me. You know nothing about me and yet felt it acceptable to say what you did in public. I do not want to spend time with such a man, so please leave.”
It surprised him that she was speaking in such a forthright manner, because while all of what she said was true, he’d danced with her a handful of times and she’d barely uttered two words, and those usually about the weather.
“I rarely take the time to talk to young women, Miss Ainsley. If I did, their mothers would have me betrothed in a matter of days.”
“Yes, I could see all that adoration must be taxing on you.”
Was that sarcasm?
He couldn’t tell, as her eyes were still on the water.
“Come out of the water, Miss Ainsley.”
“It would take me a positive age to do so, considering my advanced years, so I shall just stay where I am, thank you.”
“Look, if you will just let me explain—”
“What I want is for you to leave.”
“Come out of the water, please.”
“No.”
“Then I shall come in.”
“What?” Shock had her turning to face him. He caught a glimpse of pink cheeks and wide blue eyes. He’d never thought her pretty; actually, he’d never really thought about her at all, because… well, because she was just there, like any number of pink-cheeked, eager young ladies every night he walked into a society function.
“If you do not come out, then I will be forced to come in and get you.”
“Why, for pity’s sake? We loathe each other, and I am harming no one standing here ankle-deep in water. Go and flirt with someone, Mr. Hetherington, or at the very least find someone who does not remind you of a gout-swollen toe!”
“I do not loathe you, and I am not having this conversation or begging your forgiveness while you are standing ankle-deep in water. Come out here, Miss Ainsley, and allow me to explain my behavior.”
“No. Now go away before someone sees us together.”
“Very well, you leave me no choice.” He began to wrestle off his boots, no easy task. His valet usually did this, and he was forced to hop about the place.
“Oh, for pity’s sake, Mr. Hetherington, I said stop!”
“No.” More hopping and some grunting as he tugged on the boot.
“Then I shall leave.”
Ben managed to pull off one boot before looking at her. To his horror, she’d walked deeper into the water; it was now past her knees. She had given up holding her skirts and they now puffed out in the water around her.
“What are you doing?”
“Leaving.”
“How? You are facing the wrong way!” His voice had risen to a roar as fear gripped him.
“Good day to you, Mr. Hetherington.”
Ben watched her move deeper into the water; it was at her waist now. “It’s too deep. Stop at once, or you’ll drown!” He stepped into the water, but as he did, she disappeared under it.
“Christ!” She’d drown if he didn’t get to her soon. Ignoring the boot, he ran in, heart pounding. Taking a large breath, he dived under and struck out. Opening his eyes, he looked for her but saw nothing. Rising to take a breath, he prepared to go under once more, but a glimpse of cream had him stopping. Miss Ainsley was now on the opposite side of the pond.
“You fool!” he bellowed, treading water. “What the bloody hell were you thinking!”
She climbed up the bank as agilely as a cat. He then watched as she shook herself. Her dress was now plastered to her, and if he hadn’t been so bloody furious he would have taken a moment to acknowledge she had a surprisingly lovely body.
“Answer me, damn you!”
Long blonde hair had come free of its pins and trailed down her back in a sleek waterfall. She looked like a sea nymph… a luscious sea nymph, he thought, running his eyes over her.
“You’re mad
!” he shouted. “Crazed,” he added so she understood he was furious. “Addled in the head!”
“Yet another reason for you to abhor me then! Good day to you, Mr. Hetherigton, and just so we are clear, I have no wish to be your wife… ever! Good riddance.” The last was muttered, but Benjamin had exceptional hearing.
She did not look at him again, instead simply walked away, leaving him in the middle of the pond with God knew what beneath him. He hoped there were no eels; Ben didn’t like those.
Shaking his head when Miss Ainsley’s retreating figure had disappeared, he swam back to the bank. He had no idea what had just happened, but one thing he did realize was that there was a great deal more to Miss Primrose Ainsley than he’d originally believed.
Squelching out of the water, he wrestled off his second boot, then emptied it and sat to replace them both. Regaining his feet, Ben picked up her shoes and bonnet, then skirted the pond and followed her back to the house.
Tonight, Ben thought. Tonight he would make sure he was seated beside Primrose Ainsley for their evening meal, and he would spend the entire event making her extremely uncomfortable, just as he now was.
Chapter Two
“Good Lord, why are you all wet, Primrose?”
“I fell in the pond while trying to fish out a lily.”
Virginia, Lady Jane tsked. “Of course there was some kind of flora or fauna involved. Well, I hope no one saw you.”
“No, I ran back and slipped inside undetected through a side door.”
“I shall call for a bath.”
“Thank you.”
Primrose began removing her sodden clothes while she thought about what she’d done. That loathsome Mr. Hetherington had started it all. Horrid man. How dared he say she was as interesting as Lady Blain’s latest gout-swollen toe? He didn’t even know her.
“Turn, and I shall undo the buttons. The dress is quite ruined, I fear.”
Guilt thickened as Lady Jane proceeded to help her undress.
She was one of Primrose’s mother’s oldest friends. Widowed, she was still a formidable society matron, and had agreed when Primrose’s mother had asked her to sponsor her daughter for a season. All of Primrose’s protests had got her nowhere. She was having a season no matter how much she wished for the opposite.