Otherwise Engaged

by Joanna Barker

  I did not know if it was his gruffness or the way he refused to look at me, but his words set me on edge like never before. Was this the Lieutenant Avery everyone else saw? Was this who he might have been to me, save for a few chance encounters that had allowed me to see the man he truly was?

  But I raised my chin and ignored his cool tone. He would have to try much harder to frighten me off. “Don’t go to Portsmouth.” I spoke quietly, but I knew he could hear every word. “Don’t return to the navy.”

  Nicholas froze, his hands knotted in his reins. He did not speak, and I took advantage of his silence.

  “I want you to stay.” I took another step forward. “I need you to stay, Nicholas. I”—I shook my head—“cannot imagine my life without you in it.”

  A flash of hope, but then he scrubbed a hand up his face. “What are you saying, Rebecca? What about Edward?”

  “I spoke to Edward,” I said softly. “This morning. And while I wish to tell you more about that conversation, all you need to know is that—” I paused to gather my courage. “Is that I am no longer engaged.”

  His eyes shot to mine. “What?” he managed, his voice hoarse.

  “I could not marry him.” My confidence grew at his reaction. “You were right, about everything. He was never the right man for me. But I was stubborn and refused to believe I was wrong.”

  “You’re not engaged.” He shook his head as if he did not believe he’d heard me properly.

  “No. I am not.” I closed the distance between us. I slid my hands up his chest and toyed with the fabric-covered buttons of his waistcoat. He hitched a breath. “Nicholas, everything changed that day we met at the lake. I changed because of you. You make me feel . . .” I shook my head. “I cannot even describe it. You challenge me. You understand me. You take me as I am and, yet, make me wish to be better.”

  Though his eyes searched my face, he did not interrupt me, for which I was grateful. I’d never before declared my feelings for a man, and blast it all if this wasn’t horribly nerve-wracking.

  “I love you, Nicholas,” I whispered. “I do not know how I withstood my own heart for so long, but I have no doubts anymore. I want to spend the rest of my days with you, if you’ll still have me.”

  He stared at me. “If?” he repeated in disbelief. “You speak as though I have any choice. I was lost to you the moment I saw you at the lake with fire in your eyes.”

  I did not allow him another word as I took hold of his cravat and pulled him down to meet my lips. Nicholas hardly needed any more encouragement than that. His arms wrapped around my waist, securing me against him as he kissed me slowly, deeply. I thought I might have known what to expect from kissing Nicholas—we’d had a bit of practice, after all—but I could not have prepared myself for the joy that caught in my chest and threatened to burst from all it contained.

  This was it. This was the love I’d longed for. I had tried to convince myself I could have it with Edward, but now I knew that what I’d felt for him was but a shallow reflection of what love should be. Love was real and strong and brave. Love was sacrifice and compromise. Love was everything I felt between Nicholas and me, everything that had brought us together and bound our hearts as one.

  When Nicholas’s mouth left mine to scatter dizzying kisses along my jaw and neck, I could not help but shiver at his touch.

  He gave a low, throaty laugh as he pulled back, his hands finding my elbows. “Are you cold?” he asked with a teasing grin.

  “Not in the least,” I said, barely able to catch my breath. “And I no longer doubt your claim that you know how to woo a woman. You may consider me quite properly wooed.”

  His eyes were bright, even against the morning sun. “It was more of a challenge than I had anticipated, I’ll admit. But entirely worth it.”

  Stella gave a snort behind me, and then her nose nudged my shoulder, nearly knocking me over.

  I chuckled and rubbed her nose. “I think she might be jealous of you.”

  “She has good reason,” he said. “I do not intend on sharing you anytime soon.”

  “She will learn to cope, I have no doubt.” My hand brushed back a lock of hair and then stopped. “Oh, not again,” I muttered as I glanced to the road behind me.

  “What is it?”

  I sighed. “I’ve lost my hat again. It must have fallen off during my run.”

  He tipped his head. “You mean the hat I already bought to replace the first? What have you against hat pins?”

  “They are so uncomfortable,” I defended. “I hate the feel of them, and—”

  He laid a finger on my lips, silencing me. “I am only teasing. You must know I will buy you a thousand hats if you insist on losing them.”

  My throat tightened. How could I have been so lucky to have found this man, the one man in England who understood me and loved me, despite knowing every bad thing about me?

  As if sensing my thoughts, his face sobered, and he took my hand in both of his. “I never thought I would surrender myself so easily or so willingly. But you have captured me, Rebecca Rowley, and I have no desire to escape.” He pressed a kiss to the inside of my wrist, a thrill racing along the length of my skin. “I am yours,” he whispered. “Forever.” He kissed my palm, his lips a soft whisper.

  I swallowed against the lump that rose in my throat. “Forever,” I breathed, a promise in a word.

  He kissed me again, and I decided I would be perfectly happy if he never stopped.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Seven years later

  I squinted into the bright afternoon sun, leaning low over Stella’s neck. Her hooves drove a steady rhythm into the earth, still damp from yesterday’s spring shower, and I inhaled the deepest breath I could manage, thick with the scent of budding bluebells and crocuses.

  The air was alive, and I could feel it.

  Stella could feel it too. I sensed it in her gait, the way she responded to my barest touches. We were one, a connection shaped through years of trust and companionship.

  Through the trees ahead, I spotted a flash of white, another of pink. I slowed Stella to a trot as we approached the meadow. Our meadow.

  “A good run, Stella girl,” I whispered, patting her neck, feeling her heaving sides beneath me. She was hardly ancient at twelve years old, but neither did she have the vigor of her youth.

  “She’s back! She’s back!” Hazel’s sing-song voice said. She danced around the edge of the thick blankets, little Bianca following in her footsteps, as always, chanting just a beat behind. Olivia sat primly on the blanket, ankles tucked beneath her and parasol blocking the heat of the sun. At eighteen, she was far too grown up to join the playful antics of my daughters, but she watched the two girls with a lift to her lips.

  “I am first!” Hazel demanded as I dismounted, bouncing on her toes. “You said I might ride first, remember?”

  “I want to go,” Bianca protested. “Hazel is always first.”

  “Hush, girls,” I said. “You will both have your turns; do not worry. But where has your father gone off to?”

  I’d left Nicholas with the girls, but now he had disappeared from our little picnic, though the wicker basket and food remained. I raised an eyebrow at Olivia.

  “He said he would be back soon.” She frowned. “He would not tell me where he was going.”

  “Odd.” I rested my hands on my waist as I glanced around. Our carriage still stood at the edge of the meadow, horses grazing nearby, but I could see no sign of Nicholas.

  “Mama,” Hazel said again, pulling on my habit skirts.

  “All right, all right,” I said with a laugh.

  I managed to placate Bianca into going second by bribing her with the last strawberry tart, which Olivia had been eyeing. Then I lifted Hazel onto Stella’s bare back, and my daughter immediately held the golden mane and bent her knees into
the correct position. Only five years old and she took to riding like a bird to the sky.

  I slipped Stella’s bridle back over her head so I might lead her by the reins, and then we started around the meadow, leaving Olivia to answer Bianca’s endless questions about where clouds came from. I made small corrections to Hazel’s posture, though she hardly needed it. Her face shown brightest when she was on horseback, and she always tried to urge Stella to go faster when she thought I was not looking. Stella bore the child’s enthusiasm with steady amusement as we circled back around.

  A voice called out from ahead. “If we are not careful, she’ll up and join Astley’s before we can present her to Society.”

  Nicholas leaned against a nearby tree, cravat loose around his neck, hair disarmingly disheveled.

  “I can only hope so,” I said with a grin. “Think of all the horribly awkward parties we could avoid if we were shunned.”

  “On the contrary,” he said, coming to walk beside me as I continued to lead Stella and Hazel around the meadow. “I daresay we’d be invited to more events. People love a good scandal.”

  Hazel grew impatient with our conversation. “Papa, look how well I’m doing.”

  He tugged on one of her blonde curls. “I was watching, little one. You are quite the horsewoman these days.”

  Hazel beamed. She might have my riding skills and strong-willed personality, but she was the image of her father—green eyes and a wide smile.

  “Where did you run off to?” I asked him as we approached the picnic. “Olivia seemed put out that you would not tell her.”

  “Olivia is always put out about something.” Then he spoke a little louder. “And I cannot say I trust her very much after she told you about Italy.”

  Olivia gave a huff. “I was thirteen,” she protested. “And it was an accident. You must stop blaming me for that.”

  “Months of planning,” Nicholas said with a shake of his head. “All gone to waste in a single moment.”

  I laughed as I lifted Hazel from Stella’s back and set her on the grass. “Fortunately, I still enjoyed the trip despite knowing about it beforehand.”

  Bianca ran to me, her face still claiming a babyish roundness even though her body had begun to slim. “My turn, Mama!”

  Nicholas intercepted her, grabbing her and tossing her in the air. She shrieked in delight as her tawny curls floated in the spring air.

  “Again,” she demanded when he settled her in his arms.

  He gave a mischievous grin and glanced at me. “What if I gave you a little surprise instead?”

  I knew he’d been up to something. Nothing pleased my husband more than spoiling his children—and me.

  “What have you done now?” I asked with a dramatic sigh.

  “It is not quite a trip to Italy,” he said, waving Hazel to come stand by us. “But I think you shall like it all the same.” He gave a sharp whistle, and immediately, we heard rustling in the brush to our right. We turned just as one of Linwood’s grooms stepped out holding the reins to a beautiful Welsh cob, a short, sturdy horse with white stockings and a black body.

  “I thought perhaps Hazel was ready for her own mount,” Nicholas said.

  “For me, Papa?” Hazel stared at the cob in clear disbelief, fisted hands raised to her cheeks.

  “Yes,” he said, bending to set Bianca down. “For the both of you, though your sister still has some growing to do, I think.”

  Hazel gave a little shout and ran to the horse, Bianca following more hesitantly.

  “You scoundrel.” I poked Nicholas in the side as we started after them.

  “I know, I know,” he said, grabbing my hand to avoid further pokes and pulling me against his side. “But William said it was an excellent price.”

  “I knew William had to be involved.” He and Juliana had gifted Andrew a pony last month, and Hazel had been green with envy. But we’d decided the time was not yet right.

  “I am sorry. I could not resist,” he said. “I wanted to surprise the both of you, and I knew it would make her happy.” He nodded at Hazel, who, with the groom’s help, was reverently patting the cob’s nose. Our daughter’s eyes were bright and alive.

  After seven years of marriage, he knew precisely how to avoid my black books.

  I pulled him to a stop and stretched up on my toes to kiss him, his touch familiar, and it still made my heart speed. How could I ever have thought my love for him would falter? Every day that passed, I loved him more wildly, like falling into the brightest summer sky, the deepest starlit night.

  “You really should not encourage my bad behavior,” he said, smiling against my lips. “Think of all the ponies I will buy if this is how you react.”

  I laughed, but then he was kissing me again, and I had no chance to respond because my mouth was quite happily occupied.

  “Not again,” Olivia grumbled, and we pulled apart as she rose from the blanket, exaggerated irritation on her face. “Do you really have nothing better to do than kiss all day long?”

  “I can certainly think of one thing,” Nicholas whispered. Olivia pretended not to hear, thankfully.

  “I daresay you’ll better understand the fun of kissing after you are married,” I said to Olivia. Her face went red as the roses embroidered on her white muslin dress. “Perhaps we ought to reapply ourselves to finding you a husband.”

  We’d taken Olivia to London for part of the Season earlier that year, and though she’d had several suitors, no doubt attracted by her handsome dowry, she had yet to receive an offer. Seeing as she criticized every man who dared look at her, it was not terribly surprising.

  “I am not certain I wish to marry at all,” she said, snapping closed her parasol. “I doubt there is a gentleman alive who can tempt me into the tedium of matrimony.” She moved to join the girls beside the Welsh cob.

  “Tedium?” Nicholas repeated in amusement as he turned to me. “Do forgive me for entrapping you in such a horrid existence.”

  I slipped my arm through his. “She’ll learn soon enough. Fate enjoys taking the best-laid plans and turning them on their heads.”

  “For which I shall always be grateful.” Nicholas pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead, and I closed my eyes. A memory slipped into my mind of William and me riding, of his words of Juliana that I’d found surprisingly romantic. Home became wherever she was.

  I had never been more certain that I’d found my home.

  “Mama! Papa!” Hazel ran back to us and tugged my hand. “Come and see!”

  I dragged Nicholas with me, and we joined our little family, petting the horse and exclaiming over how pretty he was. I smiled up at Nicholas, who met my gaze with unexpected emotion in his eyes. He tightened his hold on my hand.

  It felt unfair to everyone else in the world that I should be this deliriously happy. But I was not about to question my good luck. Not when I had a lifetime to enjoy it and the man I loved beside me to experience it all.

  Acknowledgments

  As always, I have so many amazing people to thank for their help with this book. Writing itself can often be a solitary venture, but without my incredible team of family and friends, I would never get very far!

  To my husband, Cody, thank you for being my constant supporter, for letting me bounce ideas off you, and for handling the business side of my writing. Love you!

  To my critique partners, Heidi Kimball, Arlem Hawks, Megan Walker, and Sally Britton, thank you for helping me brainstorm, revise, tweak, and somehow keep laughing throughout the process. I am glad every day to have met you all.

  Thank you to my fabulous beta readers, who caught a ridiculous amount of typos, kept me grounded, and helped me shape this book into the best version it could be: Jessica Christian, Jan Lance, Jill Warner, Deborah Hathaway, Cassy Watson, Amy Parker, Esther Hatch, and Rachel Fordham. An extra thanks to my sister J
ulia Lance for sharing her horse expertise with me and making sure I got all the details right.

  Thank you to my niece Brylee! During the hours you babysat my kids, I wrote at least a quarter of this book. Thanks for keeping them alive while I met deadlines.

  A huge thank you to my amazing team at Covenant! I’m so grateful I get to work with the very best people. Amy Parker, for her enthusiasm and skill in getting my books in front of readers. Samantha Millburn, for always helping me get my words to where they need to be. And the design team, for creating covers that perfectly bring my stories to life! Thank you all.

  And, of course, to my readers. A few years ago, I never could have imagined that anyone would want to read my words, and now I know I’ve been blessed with the best readers! I’m grateful for your kind reviews, your sharing my books with others, and your constant support.

  Thank you!

  About the Author

  Joanna Barker was born and raised in northern California. She discovered her love for historical fiction after visiting England as an eleven-year-old and subsequently read every Jane Austen book she could get her hands on. After graduating from Brigham Young University with a degree in English, she worked as an acquisitions editor before devoting herself full-time to writing. She enjoys music, chocolate, and reading everything from romance to science fiction. She lives in Utah and is just a little crazy about her husband and two wild-but-loveable boys.

  Joanna loves to connect with her readers! You can find her at the following:

  Website: www.authorjoannabarker.com

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/AuthorJoannaBarker

  Instagram: @authorjoannabarker

  Other Books By Joanna Barker

  The Truth about Miss Ashbourne

  Miss Adeline’s Match

  “The Christmas Dress” in All Hearts Come Home for Christmas