London Season Matchmaker Box Set: Regency Romance

by Lucy Adams

  “You think I am worthy of you,” he muttered darkly, “but I know that there is more to your decision to wed than you speak of, Lady Reid. What is your true reason for seeking to marry?”

  Lady Reid hesitated, then smiled up at him, her eyelashes fluttering and her head tilted coyly to one side – but Thomas was not taken in.

  “I will not be played with,” he told her, remembering how Miss Wells had said almost the very same, although she had spoken of him. “The truth, Lady Reid.”

  Lady Reid sighed heavily and shook her head. “It is nothing,” she told him, with a small shrug. “It is only that my fortune has, of late, become a little less, and therefore–”

  “You have spent too much and therefore require a rich husband,” Thomas spat, seeing how he was reduced in her eyes to nothing more than cold, hard coins. “And the very best title you can manage.”

  Lifting one shoulder, Lady Reid let out a small laugh as if he were taking matters much too seriously. “But, Lord Weston, you must surely admit that we would do very well together,” she told him, clearly having thought this all out before now. “We could both continue on as we pleased, even though we would be wed.”

  The realization of what she was suggesting had Thomas’s stomach turning over.

  “And, of course, I would be yours whenever you wished it,” she finished, making it appear that this was the most wonderful suggestion he had ever heard. “There seemed no reason to delay since Miss Wells was clearly besotted with you, so therefore, I thought it best for her to know the truth.”

  Shaking his head, Thomas let out a long slow breath and tried to contain his furious anger. He wanted to grasp Lady Reid and shake her until she understood just how much he despised her, but the truth of the matter was that he also had to admit that he despised himself for the man he had been. Had the wager over Miss Wells not come to fruition, then most likely he would have found the idea to be fairly pleasant. It would have meant that he could have fulfilled his father’s desire for him to marry whilst maintaining his current practice of seeking the company and the adoration of any other lady he chose. But now, to have such a thing offered to him, made his stomach twist horribly. He did not even want to think of marrying Lady Reid, not when she was as cruel and as disgraceful as he realized.

  “I think, Lady Reid, that our time together has come to an end,” he told her, struggling to keep his anger contained. He had promised Lord Henderson he would not make a scene, would not draw the attention of those about them, but what Lady Reid had just revealed was making that exceedingly difficult. “I shall never, never, be willing to do as you ask.”

  Lady Reid’s eyes widened in surprise, and she was looking at him as though he had quite lost his senses.

  “I do not care for you,” he continued darkly, his eyes narrowing. “I have never cared for you. When you first came to me, it was my arrogance and my pride that were flattered. Had it not been for Miss Wells, then I would have, most likely, accepted your offer but now…” He shook his head fervently, his jaw set. “No, Lady Reid. I do not even wish to remain acquainted with you.”

  Much to his surprise, Lady Reid laughed, although the sound was no longer playful, but hard and grating.

  “You foolish boy,” she said, shaking her head as though he were a wayward child. “You have lost your senses! Miss Wells means nothing to you and–”

  “Miss Wells means everything to me!” he exclaimed, taking a step closer to Lady Reid and seeing her face pale slightly. “I have lost her because of my own foolishness and selfish pride, but that does not mean that my heart does not still belong to her.”

  Lady Reid snorted and looked away. “You are not the sort of gentleman to declare yourself in love.”

  “And yet, I am,” he told her firmly. “I love Miss Wells with everything that is within me. I cannot pretend that I have not done wrong, for the guilt of it shames me every moment I think of her. I have treated her ill, and yet, in doing so, I discovered that my heart is capable of caring for another. I have held her close and felt myself lift to the skies, such was the joy that enfolded us. Mark me, Lady Reid, I shall never draw near to you, not even if I am never to have Miss Wells’ affection return to me. She is the only one within my heart, and I shall keep her there until my very last breath.”

  Lady Reid lifted her chin and looked Thomas straight in the eye. She was quivering with suppressed emotion, her eyes bright and a defiant air about her, but Thomas knew that she was both shocked and horrified that her plans had come to naught.

  “Ridiculous man,” she muttered, turning her head away. “I can see that I have wasted a good deal of energy and the like upon you. I should have chosen my conquest more carefully.”

  Thomas said nothing, watching carefully as Lady Reid walked away from him and feeling his heart lift free from the pain and regret that held it so tightly. He had, at least, removed Lady Reid from his life, and even though more gossip and rumors would begin to circulate around them both, he knew that it was for the best. He wanted to be free of his past tethers and vices, and that included the company of Lady Reid – whether she liked it or not.

  Sighing heavily, Thomas rubbed at his forehead, squeezing his eyes closed as he tried to think of what he might do next. He had no desire to remain at the ball, but to sit at home and be surrounded by his sorrows held no delight either. He could go to Whites’, but that would only remind him of his foolishness with the wager and Lord Wiltshire.

  Mayhap it was time to return home to his father’s estate. His sister would be glad to see him, and, most likely, Lord Henderson would accompany him also. Mayhap there would be a wedding this Season after all, even though it would not be for Thomas and Miss Wells.

  A small groan of regret brushed from his lips, as he dropped his hand and opened his eyes. It was only then that he saw a small, pale-faced figure standing just behind where Lady Reid had been. A figure who must have overheard most of their conversation, he realized, his heart quickening frantically as he saw the figure step closer.

  “Lord Weston.”

  His heart began to pound with a furious hope as the figure moved closer still, bringing Miss Wells clearly into view. His mouth was clogged with sand, his lungs burning as he tried to catch his breath.

  “I heard everything,” she said hoarsely, as a single tear coursed down her cheek. “Tell me you meant those words, Lord Weston. Tell me the truth, I pray you.”

  Taking a small step closer, he looked into her beautiful face and found himself wanting to weep with the sheer relief of being able to speak to her again.

  “I meant every word, Miss Wells,” he told her, not quite certain what to do thereafter. “Pray, do not turn from me now. Allow me to speak to you of my heart, even if you do not have the words to say anything back to me. I must allow you to know the truth.”

  A glimmer of a smile came to her face. “So that you might assuage some of your own guilt, Lord Weston?” she asked, repeating something she had said to him soon after they had first become acquainted.

  He shook his head. “So that your heart might heal somewhat,” he promised. “So that you might know the depths of my regret.”

  Miss Wells took in a long, slow breath and wiped the tear from her cheek. “Very well, Lord Weston,” she murmured, gesturing to the door just behind him. “Might we find a quieter place to speak?”

  She did not wait but stepped past him into the hallway. Thomas, his hands trembling somewhat as he followed her, felt his heart begin to ache with a desperate hope that this might, in some way, be the beginnings of a way back to one another. A way back to what might have been and now could be again.

  Epilogue

  Merry’s heart was beating so rapidly that she was certain the sound of it could be heard bouncing off the walls. She had spoken to Lord Henderson, who had informed her as to where Lord Weston was, and had gone in search of him. Having made up her mind to, at the very least, converse with him, she had been stunned to hear the truth from Lady Reid’s lips
– and then to see and hear the answering fury that came from Lord Weston.

  I have held her close and felt myself lift to the skies, such was the joy that enfolded us….She is the only one within my heart, and I shall keep her there until my very last breath.

  Those words had brought such a joy to her heart that she had barely been able to prevent herself from stepping out from behind Lady Reid and looking into Lord Weston’s face. She knew now that what he had said to her before she had discovered the truth had come from his heart, for he would not have rejected Lady Reid otherwise. Had he no genuine affection for her, then he would have accepted Lady Reid’s offer without hesitation, especially given that the conversation between them had not been overheard by anyone other than her.

  “I must tell you, Miss Wells, that I am–”

  “Merry.” She stopped and turned to face him, finding themselves in a quiet alcove away from the noise and bustle of the ballroom. “You may call me Merry, Lord Weston.”

  He gaped at her, his eyes flaring and his mouth hanging open for a moment such was his surprise. She did not laugh, but rather, held his gaze, feeling her heart lift within her chest.

  “I overheard what you said to Lady Reid,” she told him quietly. “It has convinced me that your words are true. It has shown me that your heart does, in fact, belong to me.”

  “It does,” he breathed, reaching for her hands and taking them in his own. Merry closed her eyes, feeling tears burn in her eyes again, but this time, they did not come from pain or sorrow. Instead, they came with the sensation of forgiveness, of allowing the wrongs to belong only to the past. It was easier to do than she had expected, for seeing the look in Lord Weston’s eyes had told her that his regret and pain was real. He had made a wager and then discovered that there was more to their acquaintance than he had first thought.

  “If I had told you of the wager, you would have turned from me,” Lord Weston said, as if he had read her thoughts. “I would have been alone. My heart would have quite broken.”

  Merry looked up into his face, pulling one hand free to run down his cheek and marveling at the flurry of excitement that flooded her. “You were the only gentleman of my acquaintance who showed a true interest in me,” she told him quietly. “That may have come, at the first, as an intention to claim me as your own to win the wager, but thereafter, I believe it became something more.”

  He nodded and swallowed hard. “It did, Merry,” he promised her, his gaze fixed and unrelenting. “I thought to show an interest in you only so that I might become the victor, but then I discovered that my heart was slowly becoming fixed upon you. I had never experienced such sensations, and the more I considered my heart, the more fearful I became of telling you the truth.” Dropping his head, he let out a soft groan. “I have made an abject fool of both myself and you.”

  “And yet, I have come to see that your affection for me is real,” Merry replied, seeing him slowly lift his head. “My forgiveness came the moment I heard you declare yourself to Lady Reid.” She smiled at him, seeing the hope flare in his eyes. “You would have gone to her had you no true affection for me, Lord Weston. Given that my own heart will not let you go, I have decided to set the past aside and to move into what I hope will be a happy and contented future….” She trailed off, a flicker of uncertainty in her heart. “That is, if you still wish it to be so.”

  Lord Weston lowered his head and caught her lips with his own. His hands wrapped about her waist, tugging her closer to him still. Her arms went about his neck of their own accord, pulling herself closer to him and losing herself in his kiss. His kiss was hard, his lips firm, as though he were branding her as his own.

  “I do not deserve you, Merry,” he whispered against her mouth, his forehead resting lightly against hers. “I do not deserve your forgiveness nor your love.”

  She laughed softly, letting her fingers twine through his hair as her heart flooded with more happiness than she had ever thought possible. “Enough regret, Lord Weston,” she told him sweetly. “I love you deeply. You have become everything to me, and I shall not let you linger in sorrow, not when we have so much happiness ahead of us.”

  Lord Weston took in a long breath and then let it out slowly, capturing her face with both hands and framing it gently as he looked into her eyes. “Then make my happiness complete, my love. Tell me that you will be my bride. I will spend each day showing you that I am the gentleman you deserve, the gentleman who sees you as you truly are and who loves every part of you with an abiding, unrelenting love that is solely for you alone.”

  Merry closed her eyes, lost in happiness. Her sorrow and fears were gone, her broken heart already beginning to heal. Lord Weston had proven himself despite his failings, and she knew now that he would make her the most wonderful of husbands. “Of course I will wed you,” she replied, hearing his sigh of relief and smiling at it. “I can think of nothing better than marrying the person who carries my heart.”

  Lord Weston smiled back at her, lowering his head for another kiss. “Nor I,” he whispered, before capturing her lips with his own.

  The Duke’s Secret Wager

  London Season Matchmaker Book Four

  Book Description

  The Gold Cup has never seen a scandal so great… nor has the Duke of Blackwell ever been so in love.

  Lady Catherine Wells is a wallflower who despises being in London, as she is expected to behave with nothing but absolute decorum. She cares nothing for impressing the ton, for horses are her only true passion.

  Her heart’s desire is to ride horses and feel the freedom of the wind in her hair. Deciding to take matters into her own hands, Lady Catherine makes an unthinkable move… risking her reputation to follow her dreams.

  The Duke of Blackwell considers himself a bachelor for life and has only one ambition: to win the Gold Cup.

  Then along comes Lady Catherine, who affects his heart in the most unfamiliar ways. And along with her… comes a scandal so great, only love could overcome it.

  But when secrets are revealed, everything may come crumbling down, including the chance for a match greater than gold…

  Chapter One

  “Dash it all!”

  Matthew, Duke of Blackwell, strode hurriedly across the grass towards the stalls, praying that his horse was fully prepared and readied for his jockey. He had not had any intention of being so late this afternoon, but last evening, he had drunk a little too much and had, somehow, managed to find himself in a rather disreputable establishment along with some of his acquaintances. It had been an excellent evening, but unfortunately for Matthew, the liquor had taken its toll and he had fallen into a sound sleep that had been difficult to rouse from. Waking to discover that, not only was he in the same clothes as last evening, but also that he was not even in his own townhouse had been something of an embarrassment and had brought Matthew a good deal of frustration, given that he had meant to be at the racecourse rather early to ensure that his newest mount, Beauchamp, was ready and prepared. Of course, he had not had any other choice but to return to his lodgings to wash and change his clothes, which had made him very late when it came to returning to the course.

  “I must apologize,” he said, walking into the stall and expecting to see his jockey, Nathanial Rigby, standing next to Beauchamp, but—much to his surprise—he saw a small, thin young man running a brush down Beauchamp’s side. “I say!” Matthew exclaimed, slightly concerned as to who this fellow might be and wondering if it was linked to any of his rivals who could very well be seeking to discover as much as they could about Matthew’s newest purchase. “Whatever is it that you think you are doing?”

  The fellow stammered furiously, dropped the brush, and stepped away from Beauchamp’s side. “I do apologize,” he said, his voice high and therefore betraying his youthfulness. “It is only that this is such a magnificent horse that I could not help but come in to see it.”

  Matthew frowned. The lad was speaking in such a refined manner that Matthew wonde
red where the fellow had come from. He did not appear to be of the same ilk as Nathanial Rigby and certainly Matthew had never seen the boy about before.

  “When did you see my horse?” he asked, narrowing his gaze just a little as he walked nearer to Beauchamp, suddenly afraid that the lad had done something to his horse that would hinder it in the race. “He has not been in a race before so I cannot—”

  “Forgive me, my lord,” the boy interrupted, doing some sort of awkward bow, which seemed to involve him bending his knees as well as leaning his head forward. “The truth is, I have been seeking out a position as a jockey, and in wandering through the stalls, I thought to ask if you had someone already in place for such a thing.”

  Matthew wanted to laugh aloud but restrained himself before he could do so, seeing the boy’s eagerness but wanting to tell him that no gentleman of worth would ever accept someone as their jockey simply because they wished to be so. “I see,” he said, unable to prevent a smile from spreading across his mouth. “But have you any experience, boy? Are you well known amongst the gentlemen present? Have you been to Tattersall and tried to speak to gentlemen there?”