"None of it. I swear. Everything else was the truth." She approached him. "I know I lied about being jilted. That was wrong of me. But if you care for me, and want to raise a family together... Is it really so terrible to learn that it was you I loved all along?"
"I don't know if I can believe that now."
He could scarcely believe those three words when she'd spoken them the first time. How the hell was he supposed to accept them now?
"You think I would lie to you? About the day I learned of my own brother's death?" Her voice shook with emotion. "If that's how little you think of me, we can annul the marriage. No one knows we went through with it, save for the coachman and Giles. And Dick and Fanny, but who would they tell?"
"The Church knows. I know. We said vows. We've had..." He motioned impatiently. "...marital relations."
Well, look at that. He'd come up with a polite term all on his own.
"A marriage can be annulled on grounds of fraud," she said. "If that's what you allege, I won't fight it."
"Oh, I'll be damned if I'll annul this marriage. You're not getting off that easy." He inhaled slowly, trying to steady himself. "I'm far from a perfect man. But if there's one thing I value above all else, it's keeping my promises."
"I know that."
"Precisely, Mary. You know that. You know that. And you used it against me."
She nodded slowly. "You're right, I did. I see that now. Perhaps it is unforgivable."
She turned and quietly climbed the stairs.
Sebastian didn't follow her.
*
Mary spent the rest of the night pacing, weeping, and hoping against hope that she might hear his footfalls on the steps. That he might come to her, allow her to apologize, consider giving her another chance.
Before Giles had arrived, they'd been on the verge of something truly wonderful. And because of her stupidity, she'd set them back years. She didn't know how she'd convince him to trust her again. But no matter how long it took, she wouldn't give up.
As dawn broke, she finally heard the sounds of stirring downstairs. She ran to the door and pressed her ear against it, holding her breath.
No footfalls.
Instead, she heard the sound of carriage wheels crunching on the gravel drive. Heading away.
No.
Mary looked about the room, panicked. Good Lord, she was still barefoot and dressed in nothing but his shirt. She hadn't been able to bring herself to change out of it.
There was no time to find something else.
She flew from the room, hurrying down the stairs on bare feet and reeling around a corner in her mad dash for the front door. "Sebastian! Sebastian, wait! Don't le--"
Oof. As she opened the door, she collided with something.
Something tall and strong and wonderful.
"Sebastian." She threw her arms about his neck and hugged him tight. "Thank God you're still here. I thought you'd left me."
"I told you I wouldn't leave you. What would make you think that?"
She pulled back and searched his eyes. "The coach. I heard it leaving."
"Ah, yes. That would have been Dick and Fanny making their departure."
"You don't mean that you sacked them? I know they're terrible, but they meant well."
"I did not sack them," he said. "I've sent them away on holiday. To Ramsgate."
She blinked at him, stunned. "Sebastian, you didn't."
"I did. They're to have a room at the finest establishment, with full board and all expenses paid, for a week. And we"--he put his hands on her waist--"are on our own."
"Just the two of us?"
He nodded.
"For a whole week?"
"I'm afraid so." He shook his head, as if in dismay. "We'll have to prepare our own food. Split our own wood. Nothing to do but stroll on the beach in the afternoons and sit by the fire in the evenings with a glass of wine." His eyes darkened. "Well, that and go to bed early."
"Oh, dear. What a trial." She put her hand to his cheek. "Does that mean you've forgiven me?"
"I'm not sure. I'm still put out with you, and I spent the whole night thinking on it. You lied to me."
"I know."
"But then, you also gave up your dowry and the chance at a secure marriage, risking ruin and spinsterhood for me. Which seems as though it ought to count for something, too."
"I only did it because I loved you so much. I hoped perhaps you felt something for me, but I knew you'd never do anything about it. If I told you how I felt, you would have fled as quickly as Shadow could carry you. You would never have married me unless you believed you were coming to my rescue."
"I wish I could contradict that, but I suspect you're right."
"I'm always right."
He gave her a look.
"Often right," she amended. "If it helps, my first plan didn't feature deceit at all. I was going to simply seduce you. But I didn't have the confidence that I could pull it off."
His mouth quirked at the corner. "Oh, you could have pulled it off."
"Really?"
"Without a doubt." He drew her close, resting his forehead to hers. "Mary, Mary. Can you truly love me that much?"
"More. You should have seen my third plan if this one didn't work. There were highwaymen."
He laughed.
It was a warm, unburdened laugh that made her heart soar.
She'd disarmed him now. He couldn't keep her out any more.
"I love you," he murmured. "God, it feels good to say that at last. I love you, Mary."
He bent to kiss her, then stopped. "I've just thought of something. If your trunks weren't packed for a honeymoon with Giles Perry, does that mean all those negligees were truly--"
"For you?" She smiled. "Yes."
"Are there more of them?"
"Take me upstairs and find out."
She didn't have to ask twice. He bent down, lashed an arm around her thighs, and flung her over his shoulder before mounting the stairs.
Mary hoped he'd pieced that bed together correctly. Because it would be put to the test all week long.
Epilogue
"Come away from the window, darling," Mary said. "You're leaving nose prints on the glass."
Henry pouted. "You said Papa would be here in time for tea."
"He will be. He promised, and your father always keeps his promises."
Mary was eager for Sebastian to arrive, too. Tending all four of their children during his absence had left her frayed at the edges. When they were in London or at Byrne Hall, she had a nursemaid to help, but when they took their annual holiday here in the cottage, they preferred to keep it family only. With the addition of Dick and Fanny Cross, of course.
She shifted Molly, her youngest, to the other arm and wiped the spittle from her chubby face. The poor dear was cutting a new tooth. At least William had gone upstairs for a nap, but Jane and Henry wouldn't cease bickering.
Someday, Mary would finish her latest strident letter to the editor of The Times--but it wouldn't be today.
"Papa will most likely be late," Jane said.
"No, he won't."
"He will be. On account of the rain."
"It's not raining," Henry objected.
"Not now, not here. But it was raining hard an hour ago. The clouds have shifted since. So it's likely raining on him now. He may even have to stop over somewhere."
Mary shushed them both. "He'll be here. He'd never miss one of your birthdays."
"It's an easy enough promise to keep, considering three of our birthdays are all in the same month. Henry's the only one left out." Jane crinkled her nose in thought. "It's rather a coincidence, isn't it?"
Mary only smiled. It was no coincidence at all that three of their four children had been born in March. Not when one considered that they spent a holiday at the Kentish seaside every June.
There was just something about that bed.
Mary dearly hoped she wasn't around when Jane finally puzzled out the truth. She w
as far too clever, that one.
She set Molly down on the floor to play, then invited Henry to sit on her lap. "Henry, have I told you about the night you were born?"
Jane rolled her eyes. "Only hundreds of times."
Mary ignored her eldest's complaint and wrapped her arms around Henry. "You came early. I was at Byrne Hall, and your Papa was in London. I sent a message to him by express, but I thought he couldn't possibly arrive before you did. I should never have doubted. Your father rode all night--in the rain, mind--and arrived just in time to welcome you into the world. He was there for your first birthday, and he'll be here to see you turn six. Never doubt it."
Molly pressed a sticky hand to the window. "Papa!"
"See?" Henry gave his older sister a superior look. "I told you he'd be here in time for tea."
"And I told you it was raining," she replied.
Sebastian came through the door, dripping with rainwater and stamping the mud from his boots. "I heard there's a young master here who's six years of age. Who could that be?"
"It's me!" Henry rushed to give his father a hug.
He was closely followed by Jane.
Molly toddled over and made grabby hands. "Papa, up."
William scrambled downstairs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and jumped on his father's back.
Mary exchanged amused glances with her husband. "You look like a children tree."
An exceedingly handsome children tree. Even all these years later, he never failed to take her breath away.
"Come have cake, Papa."
"Can we go sea-bathing tomorrow?"
"Did you bring us sweets from Town?"
"Papapapapapa."
She came to his rescue, shooing them away. "Give your father a rest, all of you. Go help Mrs. Cross set the table for tea."
Once they'd all run off, she was finally able to greet Sebastian with a kiss of her own. "In case you couldn't tell, you were very much missed." She helped him out of his coat. "Was the road terrible?"
"Shadow and I have been through worse."
"I'm so glad you're here. Your children are exhausting."
He chuckled. "I'll take them down to the seaside tomorrow so you can have a rest."
"You don't have to do that."
"Oh, I do." His arms went around her, and his voice went dark. "You're going to need a rest tomorrow, because I mean to keep you up late tonight."
The kiss he gave her was one of boundless love and intense passion, and it conveyed an unmistakable message: She'd better not make any plans for next March.
Coming in August, 2018
The Governess Game
(Girl Meets Duke, Book 2)
He's been a bad, bad rake--and it takes a governess to teach him a lesson.
The accidental governess
After her livelihood slips through her fingers, Alexandra Mountbatten takes on an impossible post: transforming a pair of wild orphans into proper young ladies. However, the girls don't need discipline. They need a loving home. Try telling that to their guardian, Chase Reynaud: duke's heir in the streets and devil in the sheets. The ladies of London have tried--and failed--to make him settle down. Somehow, Alexandra must reach his heart . . . without risking her own.
The infamous rake
Like any self-respecting libertine, Chase lives by one rule: no attachments. When a stubborn little governess tries to reform him, he decides to give her an education--in pleasure. That should prove he can't be tamed. But Alexandra is more than he bargained for: clever, perceptive, passionate. She refuses to see him as a lost cause. Soon the walls around Chase's heart are crumbling . . . and he's in danger of falling, hard.
More Books by Tessa Dare
Girl Meets Duke series
The Duchess Deal
The Governess Game (coming August 2018) Castles Ever After series
Romancing the Duke
Say Yes to the Marquess
When a Scot Ties the Knot
Spindle Cove series
A Night to Surrender
Once Upon a Winter's Eve
A Week to be Wicked
A Lady by Midnight
Beauty and the Blacksmith
Any Duchess Will Do
Lord Dashwood Missed Out
Do You Want to Start a Scandal The Stud Club series
One Dance with a Duke
Twice Tempted by a Rogue
Three Nights with a Scoundrel The Wanton Dairymaid series Goddess of the Hunt
Surrender of a Siren
A Lady of Persuasion
Novellas
The Scandalous, Dissolute, No-Good Mr. Wright How to Catch a Wild Viscount
About the Author
Tessa Dare is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than twenty historical romances. Blending wit, sensuality, and emotion, Tessa writes Regency-set romance novels that feel relatable to modern readers. Her books have won numerous accolades, including Romance Writers of America's prestigious RITA(r) award (twice) and the RT Book Reviews Seal of Excellence. Booklist magazine named her one of the "new stars of historical romance," and her books have been contracted for translation in more than a dozen languages.
A librarian by training and a book-lover at heart, Tessa makes her home in Southern California, where she lives with her husband, their two children, and a trio of cosmic kitties.
To receive updates on Tessa's new and upcoming books, please sign up for her newsletter: tessadare.com/newsletter-signup
His Duchess for a Day
By
Christi Caldwell
For more information about the author:
www.christicaldwellauthor.com
Twitter: @ChristiCaldwell
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Chapter 1
Surrey, England
1821
To all those in Wallingford, Mrs. Elizabeth Terry was just any other miserable dragon at Mrs. Belden's Finishing School. Her days consisted of instructing equally miserable students on ladylike deportment and skills to catch a husband. And then beginning those same lessons in the following days for other young women unfortunate enough to find themselves students in this dreary place.
The irony was never lost on any that the leading ladies of Society who were in this establishment received lessons from women who had a false "Mrs." attached to their names to create an air of respectability. When the truth was, they were all nothing more than spinsters or poor women required to work to survive.
Well, not all of them.
"Why should we possibly take lessons on husband hunting from her?"
Standing at the front of the parlor that served as a classroom, Elizabeth's cheeks burned hot under that less-than-discreet whisper.
At six and twenty, however, and on her own for more years than any person ought, she was made of far sterner stuff. "What was that?" she challenged, the remarkable cool of her tone hopelessly ruined as her wire-rimmed spectacles slipped down her nose.
The other young ladies seated beside the habitual insulter, Lady Claire Moore, all fell silent, diverting their stares to their laps.
A duke's daughter and goddaughter to the queen, Lady Claire had an icy demeanor that all the instructors at Mrs. Belden's and the harpy headmistress herself couldn't muster. "Marriage," the ten-and-seven-year-old student drawled out in slow, enunciated syllables.
The girl at her side giggled and then swiftly concealed that expression of her mirth.
Lady Claire scraped a condescending stare over Elizabeth, lingering her focus on the gray skirts. Gray skirts that hung large on Elizabeth's small, shapeless frame. "I asked how you could possibly instruct us on how to find a husband."
She couldn't. Elizabeth wasn't so foolish to believe that she knew a thing about flirting or enticing... anyone.
"Hush. Don't
be unkind," Lady Nora snapped in a shocking defense. After all, there was some manner of code, either spoken or unspoken, that no one defended the dragons.
"You'd defend her? A dragon?" Lady Claire quipped. "But then, with your parents gone now and your brother off chasing skirts, you'll likely be the next drag--"
Exploding to her feet, Lady Nora came out of her seat and launched herself at the other woman.
Oh, blast.
Elizabeth surged forward and swiftly placed herself between the pair. "That is enough," she said in perfectly modulated tones.
She'd learned early on that yelling had little effect on recalcitrant students. The same for drawn-out lectures. If one truly wished to penetrate a tense situation, one was best to meet it with calm.
Lady Nora instantly fell back, but hovered alongside the other woman.
An ashen, trembling Lady Claire burrowed in her seat.
Elizabeth looked to the recently volatile young woman, feeling a kindred connection to this woman who'd recently lost her parents. "If you'll please sit?" she murmured. Angry, scared, and lost, Elizabeth knew precisely what Lady Nora was feeling. Only, where the young woman had a rogue of a brother, Elizabeth had... no one. Of course, a rogue of a brother who didn't see his own sister might be the same as having no brother at all.
With stiff, reluctant movements, Lady Nora returned to her seat.
"Now, as I was saying..." She puzzled her brow. Blast and damn. What had she been saying?
"The gentlemen who we should set our caps on?" Miss Peppa March piped in helpfully. Heavily rounded, with large cheeks and limp brown hair, the six-and-ten-year-old girl, a recent student, looked up from the little journal and pencil she clutched in her fingers.
"No advice Mrs. Terry or anyone gives is going to help you secure a husband," Lady Claire muttered.
Lady Nora shot a foot out, catching the young woman in the ankle.
A cry burst from the other lady's lips. "How dare you?"
"Oh, I'd do it again, dare or not," Nora answered with a mocking smile.
An argument immediately broke out with each girl firing insults and hateful words at each other.
Bloody hell. Elizabeth slapped her palms over her face. She'd forever been rot at this. It was the miracle of this century that the intolerable Mrs. Belden hadn't figured out the sham Elizabeth had perpetuated--she was a dreadful instructor.