“You don’t want a scandal …” Omsbury said.
“No, you are quite right. I have what I came for …” Ryker led Jewels to the doorway and there whispered, “Can you stand, my love?”
She nodded, and he turned to take two long strides to Omsbury and in one fluid motion planted him on the floor. “Ah,” Ryker said, “that feels so much better …” He picked Omsbury up by his lapels and punched him once more. “As you say, I don’t want my future wife’s name bandied about, and so I shall not kill you today. However, I am not adverse to doing so in the future if you make mischief. Are we clear?”
Omsbury nodded and expected the marquis to leave him be. He started to get up, and Ryker helped him the remainder of the way, whereby he gave him one more blow because he could not help himself. He turned then to Jewels, steadying herself against the doorjamb. He went and put an arm around her. “My sweet life, my beauty … come.”
Epilogue
AS IT TURNED out, Lightning did, in fact, win his race. Omsbury, fearing scandal and reprisal (perhaps death), slinked off the Isle and returned to his social life in London.
Jewelene was relieved and oh so proud to discover that Ryker had followed Jimmy and Arthur to the jewelry shop in Portsmouth and bought back her father’s keepsakes. He then went and immediately paid off the moneylender without interest, threatening him with reprisals for dealing with a youngster not yet permitted to sign his loan contract. Jewelene couldn’t believe that here was her own modern-day knight with all the trimmings.
A month later, and on the Isle of Wight, with family and friends around them, Ryker and Jewelene were wed in a ceremony that was small and sweetly romantic.
The fall season arrived with Henshaw House already seeing a profit from its breeding revenue, but Sir James, at his sister’s insistence, went off with his friend Arthur Salford to Cambridge to further his education. He left his loyal and mature head groom, Jonas, to breed the stallion to the list of mares that were sent their way.
The fall also saw Elizabeth married to Ben Clay, and her mother though not jubilant was happily resigned to the fact. They took a lovely home in Yarmouth, but her mother remained at Henshaw House to see to its efficient running in the absence of both Jewelene and her brother.
Caesar decided he had to accompany Jewelene and her new husband, since Jimmy could not take him up to school. And he made quite a picture hanging his head out of the coach when they first entered the city. He found that Hyde Park suited him very much and would bring his leash to be walked there each morning when they were in town.
Jewelene and her dark blond knight did, in fact, take London and the haute ton by storm! However, Jewelene was very pleased to find that her marquis had a country estate, and more often than not, that was where the two could be found making plans for a family.
’Twould be romantic fiction to tell they ‘lived happily ever after,’ but indeed, they came close to it—very close.
Here’s a taste of another of Claudy’s
Risqué Regency romances:
Oh, Cherry Ripe
One
CHERYL ELTON OPENED the door to her stepmother’s sitting room and peeped around the corner of the bright and handsomely furnished room before she smiled sheepishly and asked, “You wanted to see me, mama?”
Lady Elton’s expression was grave and her lips set as she said in a reproving tone, “Come sit, Cheryl.”
Cherry Elton did what she was told, not because she was an obedient miss, but because she wanted to stave off the trouble she saw ahead.
Her stepmother affectionately brushed Cherry’s long, thick, black hair away from her face and clucked. “I suppose you should start to wear your hair up most of the time now … you certainly are of age.”
“Yes, Mama, but I like it loose.”
Lady Elton frowned and sighed, took a moment to smooth out the skirt of her gray satin day gown, and then looked into Cherry’s bright aqua-blue eyes. “I want you to listen to what I have to say before you get yourself in a state.”
“Mama, I know now that what I did was not quite the thing—” Cherry hurriedly began to explain. She knew this time she was in trouble.
“Not the thing!” spluttered Lady Elton, interrupting her. “Hopping on Lord Melville’s stallion in the middle of Hyde Park—in your walking clothes—and then riding the animal astride with your skirt hiked up as you raced Sir Peter for all the world to see … not the thing? Why, you miserable wretch of a girl! How can you sit there and look so innocent? If your father were alive …”
Cheryl leaned forward and hugged her stepmother. “I am sorry.” But even as her stepmother might have relaxed had she left it at that, Cherry added, “Had I been a man and done that, I would have been called top sawyer … but just because I am a female—”
“A man would not have had to hike up his skirts!” Lady Elton snapped. “Cherry love, what am I to do with you?” She put up her hand to stop her stepdaughter from answering. “Enough. You know the rules that govern society. You know that what you do affects not only your own standing but mine as well in that same society. How dare you, child.”
This tore at Cherry. She loved her stepmother and meant her no ill. As far back as she could remember her stepmother had always loved her and her father and had been very good to her. “Mama, I didn’t think past the moment … Peter was being the devil of a tease … and there was Melville’s black looking so very fine and inviting and Melville goading me by saying he was too much horse for me to handle … and …”
“Yes, impossible creature, I do see, but that is where a young woman of your breeding and standing demurs and shames a gentleman into behaving with more decorum towards her.” Lady Elton clucked her tongue, and Cherry could see her mama’s thoughts racing. “However, I have the solution, and amazingly enough, he still wants you.”
“What are you talking about? He—who still wants me?”