Growing bolder herself, Rosabel’s hands travelled over his arms before returning to his chest, her fingers slowly nearing the edge of his shirt. When she felt his skin brush against her fingertips, she gasped.
Instantly, his arms tightened around her, and a low moan escaped his lips.
Encouraged, Rosabel continued her explorations, revelling in his open response to her hesitant touch. When she lifted her head off his shoulder to look at him, he turned to her, one hand cupping her face while the other held her body close to his. For a moment his eyes gazed into hers in sheer amazement as though he was seeing her for the first time. Then his arms tightened on her possessively, almost lifting her off her feet, bringing her closer. As he dropped his head, his hungry mouth found hers as though by instinct.
Losing themselves in each other’s arms, they let go of the past and all its grievances. Under the lone willow tree that afternoon, Graham had confessed his love for her, but only now Rosabel understood what that meant. With every kiss, every touch and every whispered word, he opened his heart to her, and she welcomed him just as eagerly, returning the deep emotions he was so willing to share.
At some point in the whirl of emotions, Rosabel felt the world shift under her feet as though their love had changed its axis. Strong arms picked her up, holding her close, and carried her the few steps to the bed. Sinking into the soft covers, Rosabel reached out her arms and pulled him toward her, finding the absence of his kisses intolerable.
Careful not to crush her, he buried her body under his, kissing the exposed line of her arched neck. He nibbled her ear, one hand cupping her face. Then he lifted his head, and his eyes gazed down into hers. “I never knew what it felt like to hold someone you love,” he whispered, awe shining in his unguarded eyes. “Had I known, I would have swept you off your feet the first time I laid eyes on you.” A teasing smile played on his lips. “And to hell with the bloody vows!”
A soft giggle rose from Rosabel’s throat as she brushed a lock of his dark hair off his forehead. “Had I known,” she whispered, seeing the spark in his eyes ignite once more, “I would have let you!”
Epilogue
One Year Later
Turning the small rattle in her hand, Rosabel admired its smooth metal surface catching the sunlight streaming into the drawing room through the tall windows and sparkling like a million diamonds. “This is exquisite,” she whispered, briefly lifting her eyes to Edmond, holding her new baby son. “And these patterns are so minuscule! That is true craftsmanship! Graham, look at this.”
Absorbed in a game of chess with Georgiana, her husband barely raised his head, only glancing in her general direction. “I’m sure it is,” he observed from a distance, manoeuvring his king into place. “Now consider your next move carefully,” he instructed Georgiana, the rattle all but forgotten.
Rosabel smiled.
More than ever, this small room held the family life she had always dreamed of. The life she had briefly had with her parents, when she had been a little girl. The life she’d thought she would never have.
Rosabel could not be angry with her husband for not giving her his full attention. Instead, she stood and watched father and daughter, heads bent toward each other, battling over the small wooden board. Sometimes their foreheads would crease in earnest consternation, only to grow smooth in the next moment when laughter shook their bodies and gave colour to their cheeks.
“Do not mind him,” Edmond interrupted her thoughts of peaceful awe. Cradling the infant in the crook of his arm, he walked over to her, slightly bouncing in his step and making soft shushing sounds as he went. “At least this way I get to hold my nephew!” His face split into a grin as his eyes returned to the peacefully sleeping child in his arms.
Shifting her own gaze from father and daughter to the cheerful man holding her new-born son, Rosabel couldn’t help but glance upward. Over the mantle, a new portrait had found its home. A portrait depicting a woman with deep-blue eyes full of affection and a dazzling smile that lit up the room. Her golden locks framed her face in a halo of light, and yet, goodness was not the first word that came to mind when beholding her image.
Rosabel had spent many hours staring up at Leonora’s portrait, trying to piece together the woman behind it. And even though she had never known her in life, Rosabel was certain that the quality most befitting her daughter’s mother was strength.
Emotional hardship had marked her life, and yet, she had never given up. She had walked her path, and even in death had guided Rosabel toward her own future -- a future as Georgiana’s mother.
Rosabel truly believed that Leonora had given her blessing and whole-heartedly approved of the new family bonds that had formed over the past year, family bonds that included her brother Edmond just the same. From the beginning, he had referred to himself as her son’s uncle, never mind that they did not share the same blood. But then again, neither did Graham and Georgiana, and no one would ever doubt that they were father and daughter.
“Do you want me to take him?” Rosabel whispered, gazing at her sleeping son. “He must be getting heavy.”
Edmond shook his head. “As light as a feather.” His eyes never ventured from his nephew’s face as he slowly lowered himself into the armchair by the pianoforte. “If you don’t mind,” he added, his questioning eyes meeting hers.
“Not at all.” Seating herself on the settee, Rosabel’s gaze strayed back and forth between father and daughter and nephew and uncle. Her heart warmed as happiness filled the room, and Rosabel reminded herself just how lucky she was to have found a life she could love after all, not just one she could live with.
As her eyes returned to Edmond, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was someone special in his life. So far he had not mentioned any lady in particular, but Rosabel hoped that whoever she was, she would find her way into his life soon. Watching him with her son, she was certain he would make a wonderful father. One day, she thought. Hopefully, one day soon.
Cursed & Cherished
The Duke’s Wilful Wife
(#2 Love’s Second Chance Series)
Read a sneak-peek
About the Book
One night, she stole his kiss.
Now, he is determined to steal it back.
EDMOND DUNSWORTH, Duke of Cromwell, is bankrupt. The solution to his problem: a wife with a sizable dowry.
Not worried in the least, Edmond takes his pick. After all, what woman could resist his charms?
ANNA HANFORD, a merchant’s daughter, is faced with a difficult choice: allow her sister to marry the duke and see her happiness shattered…or marry the duke herself.
Determined to ensure her sister’s future, Anna makes her choice. After all, isn’t marriage just a minor inconvenience in life?
Prologue
1805 England (or a variation thereof)
As the late afternoon sun poured in through the tall windows, bringing a warm glow to the dark wood of his study, Edmond Dunsworth, Duke of Cromwell, sank into the leathered armchair behind his desk. Unburdened with letters of business or ledgers of any kind, its smooth surface held enough room for him to prop up his feet in leisure. If only the decanter weren’t so far away, he would never rise from this chair!
Resting his head against the smooth leather, he closed his eyes, enjoying the peace and quiet of his family’s estate. Fleeing London after a few particularly wild weeks, Edmond felt the welcoming warmth of Brookestone engulf him like a blanket on a winter’s day. Early spring was upon them, bringing with it the awakening sounds of the woods and meadows. As he sat with his eyes closed, the noise of London slowly faded away, and the throbbing of his overstimulated mind began to subside. A slow smile curled up the corners of his mouth as the warmth of the afternoon sun touched his cheeks.
A rap on the door shattered his small oasis, dragging him back to the here and now.
Moaning, he
opened his eyes, “Come in.”
“I beg your pardon, your grace,” Mr. Lloyd apologised as he strode into the room. His au-burn hair meticulously combed back, he bore an expression of complete awareness as though nothing in the world could ever surprise him. His quick eyes took in Edmond’s unkempt hair as well as dishevelled clothes, his dirty boots spreading the accumulated dust of his travels across his late father’s old mahogany desk as well as the missing glass that usually filled his hand. While Edmond could detect neither judgement nor disappointment on his steward’s face, he still felt uncomfortable under the older man’s gaze. Sitting up, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Yes, what is it?”
“I do apologise for the intrusion, your grace,” Mr. Lloyd stated in a clear, unimpressed voice, “but this matter bears no postponement.” He glanced down at the ledger in his hands, and Edmond could feel the capillaries in his skull tighten.
Clearing his throat, he waved away his steward’s doomsday mentality. “Whatever it is, Mr. Lloyd, I am sure you can handle it.” He rose from his chair, hoping to sneak past his overly enthusiastic steward. “I have the utmost confidence in your abilities.”
However, before he could escape the room, Mr. Lloyd placed himself in front of the door, shaking his head imperceptibly. “Not this time, your grace. This needs your attention.”
Slumping his shoulders as though a heavy weight had settled on them, Edmond exhaled, regretting his early return with every fibre of his body. Oh, if he had only stayed in London!
He sank into his chair once again. “Then make it quick, Old Man. I am in no mood for numbers, especially today.”
“As you wish.” With a nod of his head, his steward approached the desk, the ledger still unopened in his hands. Edmond fervently hoped that it would remain so. “The final numbers of your late father’s overseas investments have come in, and as I had feared, they are crippling. There is no other word for them.”
Edmond shook his head. “Aren’t you being just a touch dramatic, Old Man? How bad can it be?”
A slight snort escaped Mr. Lloyd’s lips, that sent a shiver down Edmond’s back, and for the first time he worried about the outcome of this conversation. “Your grace, I am afraid to tell you, should you not acquire significant funding within the next few months, Brookestone will be forfeit.”
As the words sank into his mind, Edmond found himself staring at the man, whose trusted hands had always ensured that his family’s estate would live on. Never in his wildest dreams had he seen things come to such an end. And an end it was! Where was he to procure funds? If his steward did not know of a way to save Brookestone, how was he? Just the thought of numbers made him dizzy. More often than not, he had been absent when his childhood tutors had tried to explain to him the wonders of mathematics. To this day, he had no idea how he had managed his way through Eton, year after year.
Blinking, he rubbed his hands over his face, trying to focus. As his eyes settled on the man patiently waiting on the other side of his desk−a desk he had never used for more than writing a personal letter−Edmond shook his head. “Is it truly this bad? How is this possible?”
Mr. Lloyd took a deep breath, then brought the ledger in his hand forward. “It has been a long time coming, your grace.” The ledger fell open in his hands. “If you would look at the numbers, I could explain−”
“No,” Edmond objected, shaking his head. “There is no need. You know how useless I am when it comes to these things. That’s what I have you for.” Pressing his lips together, he drew a deep breath through his nose. “What I want to hear right now is how I can fix this? Surely you have some idea,” he said, hoping beyond hope.
Closing the ledger, Mr. Lloyd shrugged. “At this point, I do not have much of an idea. I am sorry, your grace.”
Edmond frowned. “Not much of an idea? Then you do have one?”
“I do not dare suggest it.” Mr. Lloyd huffed, all of a sudden unable to meet his gaze. “It is not for me to speak of such matters.”
Shooting to his feet, Edmond banged his fists on the table. “Speak, Old Man!” he snapped. Seeing his steward’s shocked face, he took a deep breath, pulling himself together. “I apologise, but now is not the time for decency. Brookestone is at risk, and I’ll be damned if I let it slip from my grasp because the idea that might save it appears to you as too improper to mention. Now speak!”
“As you wish,” his steward acquiesced. “The only option I can think of is a most, most advantageous marriage.” His eyebrows rose into looming arches as his penetrating eyes looked into Edmond’s. “And fast.”
Captivated, Edmond nodded. “Marriage?” he mumbled. “I did not see myself tying the knot quite so soon, but, yes, I do need to think of an heir.” He swallowed. “An heir not only to my title but also to Brookestone.” He nodded as the idea slowly took root. “Marriage, yes.”
“The lady will need to have a sufficient dowry,” Mr. Lloyd cautioned. “Other attributes are to be neglected.”
Edmond cringed. He knew his steward was right, but could he marry a woman without feeling the least bit of attraction for her? Marry? Yes. Father an heir? Maybe not. Nonetheless, he swallowed his pride and asked, “Do you have a young lady in mind?”
Chapter One − A Substantial Dowry
“Judith, my dear, you glow!” their mother beamed, patting her daughter’s hand. “Has he declared his intentions yet?”
Sitting on the settee in their drawing room, Judith shook her head, sending her blond curls into a soft sway as though they were dancing on her delicate shoulders. As Anna watched, a rosy blush gave colour to Judith’s cheeks, and her sister's hands twisted the handkerchief they held. “He speaks of me as the sun to his world,” she whispered, and her blush deepened. “He is always attentive, seeks my opinion and when he smiles at me…,” her voice trailed off as her eyes gazed into the distance mesmerised by the memory they relived. Anna couldn’t help but wonder what they saw.
“It’s like you’re the only one in the world that matters?” their mother asked, a rueful smile curling up the corners of her lips. When her eldest daughter nodded, her hand reached out once more, squeezing her daughter’s affectionately. “And have you let on that a proposal would be well-received?”
Avoiding her eyes, Judith’s own face lit up in a smile. “As much as I dared.”
Anna laughed. “Knowing you, my dear sister, I suspect Mr. Miller is as clueless as he was at the beginning of your acquaintance.”
“Hush, Anna,” her mother chided. “Do not upset her!”
Eyes wide, Judith stammered, “What makes you say that? Do you consider me devoid of affection?”
Anna shook her head, draping her own scarlet curls over her left shoulder. Taking her sister’s other hand into hers, she stated, “Not at all. But you must admit that you are all kindness and proper manners no matter whom you speak to. How is he to know that your feelings for him run deeper than for…say the butcher’s son?”
As Judith’s eyes widened even more, their mother gave Anna a soft slap on the knee. “Now, don’t be absurd! The man may be in love, but he is not blind.”
“As far as I am told one does not differ greatly from the other,” Anna countered, winking at her sister as she spoke. “If one is in love, one might as well be blind. Isn’t that true, Dear Sister?”
“Then you consider me blind?” Judith asked, the shock slowly dissipating from her face at Anna’s playful tone.
Anna’s smile widened. “Since the day you two first laid eyes on each other.” She gave her sister’s hand a gentle squeeze. “But mother is right; do not worry yourself. Even if the man is blind, there are other senses that will tell him of your affection.”
“Anna!” Judith exclaimed, a deep red colouring her cheeks. “Of what do you speak?”
Laughing until her sides ached, Anna found herself the unwelcome focus of two sets of eyes; one widened in shock, and the other narrowed in disapproval. “Nothing improper, I assure you,” she
wheezed, drying the corners of her eyes with Judith’s handkerchief. “I merely meant to say that even if his eyes are blind to the devotion that shines in yours whenever they behold him, his ears will still tell him of the love that rings in every word leaving your lips. He will still feel the slight tremble in your hand when he assists you into the carriage and smell the faint scent of jasmines that you only wear for him.”
While Judith’s blush deepened even more, their mother leaned back a little as though to observe her youngest daughter more closely. “Your eyes are as sharp as your wit, Anna. But do heed my words, no man under this sun will ever cherish them as long as they are not coupled with respect and proper conduct. Should you choose to continue on this line of utter honesty as you call it, My Dear, I fear that spinsterhood lies in wake for you.”
A soft shrug lifted Anna’s shoulders. “I do hear your words, Mother, as I have heard them before many times. But I cannot say that they hold sufficient warning. The picture you paint appears quite enchanting to my eyes. Freedom of speech as much as of conduct is what I seek. And I have long since been aware that a married woman will always have to answer to her husband. I, on the other hand, answer to no one.”
“What about Father?” Judith said.
“He has indulged me thus far; I do believe I am safe from too severe repercussions.”
Their mother smiled, shaking her head. “My dear Anna, I hope with all my heart that you will find what you seek. However, I cannot help but find that you are still young, too young to understand the ways of the world. As strong as you are, never be too sure of your own power,” she leaned forward, her eyes looking into Anna’s as unguarded as she had ever seen them, “or you will fall.”
Not sure how to understand her mother’s warning, Anna looked at her sister. Judith too had noticed the ring of truth in their mother’s voice, a ring born out of personal experience. Anna couldn’t help but wonder what her mother’s past held. Had she ever been too sure of her own power and fallen?