James swallowed. It was now or never, he knew that, and though it was absolutely what he wanted, the decision itself felt a little alien.
“I am so convinced,” he said quietly, “utterly convinced, that I have no compunction of doing this.”
Rowena’s eyes darted over his face. “This?”
James moved in a swift movement until he was on bended knee before her, and he saw her eyes widened, her cheeks start to flush. “Rowena Kerr, you are the true highwayman. You have stolen my heart entirely, and I want nothing in return but your own. Will you do me the greatest honour that anyone could do in this world, and marry me?”
Although James knew what response he wanted to receive, it certainly was not the one he was given.
Rowena frowned. “You have to promise me something.”
The ground was damp and his ribs were sore, but at this moment James would have promised her the moon. “Anything.”
A smile danced across her cheeks, as Rowena said seriously. “Promise me no more duels.”
Relief. Sweet relief and joy and excitement was flowing through him now, and James’ shoulders slumped as he laughed. “I can safely promise no more duels – or attacks on travelling coaches, either. ‘Tis a dangerous business, falling in love.”
Rowena giggled, and pulling him up to his feet, reached up to his neck and pulled his face down to hers. James abandoned himself to the kiss, knowing that this was the first of many of the rest of their lives together.
“Excuse me?”
James jumped, pushing himself away from Rowena and staring around him for the source of the voice.
Luke, the Marquis of Dewsbury, had poked his head out of the coach. “Although I am very relieved that you have come to a right understanding, can we please get back on the road? I have a wife here who is significantly less conscious than she needs to be, and I think that visit to the doctors is highly necessary.”
“Unconscious?” James moved forward with his hand out to shake with the Marquis, who took it with a smile. “Come, Dewsbury. Let’s get both of our womenfolk on their way.”
11
James, Viscount of Paendly, stared at himself in the mirror. There was something different about his reflection today, but it put a broad smile on his face.
There was a ring on the fourth finger of his left hand, and it was gold. They had discussed it of course: James had explained that it was so rare for gentleman to wear wedding rings, and he did not enjoy the feeling of such trifles on his flesh, and he would be quite happy to go without one.
And so of course, he had one.
A pair of hands grabbed him from behind and twisted him around, placing a passionate kiss on his lips. James inhaled the sweet smell of rosemary and lavender, the two herbs woven into his bride’s hair.
Rowena. Rowena Kerr – or Rowena Viscountess Paendly, as she would have to become accustomed to. James surrendered himself to the passion that they shared, the heat of her tongue in his mouth, the strength of his hands around her waist. It was impossible not to glorify in their union, but eventually he managed to pull away from her and bestow her with a lazy smile.
“We should join the rest of the party,” he growled.
“The real celebration is here,” Rowena countered with a wicked smile. “Surely we would have more fun if we stayed hidden here, upstairs.”
She raised her eyebrows towards the large bed that took pride of place in the Paendly master bedroom.
James groaned. “I want to make love to my new bride more than anything, but this is not the time. There will be plenty of time for that later.”
Rowena rolled her eyes, but nodded, and entwined her fingers in his as they stepped towards the doorway and the head of the stairs.
“There you are – now Rowena, you have not said more than two words to your parents, come on.”
The force of nature that was Adena, Marchioness of Dewsbury, accosted his bride and although Rowena beseeched him silently with her eyes, he did not rescue her.
It was time for the reconciliation between Ro and her parents to formalise.
“Excuse you!”
A tap on the shoulder made James turned around, and his face broke into a smile as he beheld the only other woman of importance to him in his life. “Chloe!”
A beaming woman stood before him, and James embraced his cousin as though they had not met for months – as it had been.
“It is good to see you, Chlo,” said James warmly. “Can you comprehend a more beautiful woman than my wife?”
Chloe nodded with a cheeky smile. “I cannot – but I am not likely to try and find a husband the same way that she did, I must say. ‘Tis a dangerous game she has played.”
Dark clouds gathered across James’ face. Did she really say what he thought she said of his most darling bride?
Realisation of what she had said – and who she had said it to – quickly dawned, and horror overwhelmed Chloe’s face.
“My dear cousin, I am joking,” she said hurriedly. “I am beside myself with joy for you. You have found a real treasure, and so has she.”
Bobbing a courtesy and with pink in her cheeks, Chloe wandered off into the crowd.
James watched her go, and shook his head at his cousin’s impetuous nature. She had been impulsive ever since they had been children, but as they had grown, he had shed that habit whereas it had only grown stronger in his younger relation.
There was emptiness by his side. James looked down, and saw with a wry smile that so accustomed was he to have Rowena by his side, that there was something missing in his life when she was not there.
Taking a deep breath, James strode off into his wedding celebrations to go and find her.
“And you are…well?”
Rowena winced at the forced calm of her mother’s words, but had she really expected anything else? How did you re-establish your familial connections after such a break – after such bitter words had been exchanged?
“She is very well, thank you madam,” Adena said quietly in the silence that Rowena had left. “Eating much better now, thanks to the ministrations of Doctor Sanders.”
Mrs Kerr nodded and looked around her at the marble splendour of Paendly. “To think that you are a Viscountess.”
“I hope you will deserve him, Rowena,” said her father stiffly, and Rowena flushed at his words. “After he has taken you, despite your disgrace.”
Heat was rising in Rowena’s stomach and she had opened her mouth to retaliate when she found her waist held by strong and warm hands.
“Disgrace? I hope you have not helped my best man in his speech, Mr Kerr,” said James jovially, and Rowena relaxed to feel his comforting presence beside her.
“Oh, my lord!” Mr Kerr gave a deep and low bow, so ridiculous that Rowena could not help but roll her eyes – only to see that her mother had dropped into such a low curtsey that someone almost tripped over her.
“Oh, my lord Viscount, ‘tis so good to see you – I mean, it is your wedding, of course we thought to meet with you!” Trilled her mother, and Rowena tried desperately not to allow her cheeks to redden at the desperation to ingratiate themselves into the Viscount of Paendly’s good favour.
“And it is wonderful to see you,” replied James kindly, but coolly. His eyes flickered over to Adena, and Rowena saw a nod of understanding pass between them.
“Mr Kerr, Mrs Kerr, let me show you the parkland,” said Adena swiftly, indicating with a graceful hand the door towards the grounds. “I have been informed that Paendly was…”
Her embarrassment started to fade as her friend took away her parents, and her shoulder slumped with relief.
James was nuzzling her neck, leaving scalding heat in a kissing trail down to her nape. “Ro, my love…”
“James,” she whispered back, “you told me that I had to wait for such pleasures.”
Turning her around quickly, James lowered his face and possessed her mouth, desperate and dark with passion, and Rowena surrendered herself
to him as she always would.
“The question is,” asked James in a low voice, “are you sure that you are ready for another voyage with a Viscount, in your condition?”
As one, they looked down at her swelling belly, full of life and love.
Rowena smiled, her heart and her stomach overflowing with devotion to the man before her. “James, no matter where you take me, I could not care less about the destination. It is all about the voyage.”
Wondering about Chloe? Get to know her in her own Ravishing Regencies story in Beached with a Baronet – read on for the first chapter…
You can also read Adena’s story in Marooned with a Marquis!
Please do leave a review if you have enjoyed this book – I love reading your thoughts, comments, and even critiques!
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To Joshua, the best, brightest, and bravest supporter of my writing that I have ever known.
Acknowledgments
This was the series that I never thought I could publish, so first thanks must go to my amazing Kickstarter supporters! Thank you for your faith in me, and I hope you love this book as much as I do!
Thank you to my wonderful editor, Julia Underwood, who has given me unparalleled advice – any mistakes left are completely my own!
Thank you to my glorious cover designer, Samantha Holt, a true artist whose patience with me is much appreciated.
Thank you to my ingenious formatter, Falcon Storm, whose willingness to format whenever I drop an unexpected email is fantastic!
And to my family. Thank you.
1
With one eye closed, Chloe Vaughn could almost see the highest branch – but without knowing whether it was the highest, how could the correct height be calculated?
Sun was streaming down through the leaves and she tried her best to ignore it, and the mindless chatter around her. Assuming that the trunk’s perspective altered every ten feet, therefore, and taking into account the slope where she stood –
“Keep up Miss Vaughn, or you will be left behind!”
Chloe sighed. The berating yet kind voice of Lady Kathryn echoed throughout the trees, and her concentration immediately disappeared. Giving the tall oak one last look, she rolled her eyes, gathered the skirts of her gown in her hands, and took several large strides to draw level to the only other young lady in the group.
Miss Rebecca Callaghan took her arm, and squeezed it. “Tree dimensions again?”
Chloe sighed. “We are told ‘tis not an exact science from the ground, but why? It should be possible to not just estimate, but to calculate the – ”
“Will you not let it be?” Miss Callaghan smiled, and her eyes darted towards the two gentlemen at the front of the group, walking with her mother. “I had depended on you to be enough of a distraction to enable me to spend a little time conversing with Sir Kyle, but – ”
“Less chatter there,” came the gentle tone of Lady Kathryn. “Claude, go and see what the young ladies are talking about.”
Chloe’s heart sank as quickly as the gangling young man hurriedly came towards them. He was a good natured soul, as far as she could tell. Her visit to the Callaghans always brought her in contact with some of the finer people in society, and her friendship with Rebecca was sincere, even now that she had engaged herself to Sir Kyle, forcing her association with his irritating friends.
Her mother had told her repeatedly that she was fortunate that hers and Rebecca’s father had been such good friends in London, to give her the opportunity to meet so many fine and eligible young gentleman.
Chloe had responded that she would rather hunt for grass snakes, but she was shouted down, and her month long stay at The Beeches had featured far more suitors than serpents.
“Miss Vaughn, of what do you speak?” Claude Ramsbottom asked with a grin that looked a little more licentious than her mother would have ever approved – but then, she had never met Sir Kyle’s friends. “Here, will you not take my arm?”
“I will not,” said Chloe decidedly, and then smoothed it over with, “for you see, I have Miss Callaghan’s arm and that is more than sufficient.”
His face fell, and she was struck with a pang of pity for him. But really, was it his fault that he was so disorientated on his feet? She knew that Lady Kathryn had only invited Mr Ramsbottom to act as companion for herself, now that Rebecca and Sir Kyle were betrothed, and it was a kind gesture. Their outing would have been socially reprehensible with just Sir Kyle to accompany them, after all. Perhaps she should –
“Keep up, you three!” Lady Katheryn scolded over her shoulder. “I did not bring you to the Wandorne estate for nothing!”
Chloe bristled. “My lady, the Head Gardener was more than happy to permit us to wander around for a shilling after our picnic, and so we have all the time in the world!”
Lady Kathryn stopped short, turned around to face the three of them, and raised an eyebrow.
Chloe’s mouth went slightly dry. Her mother had warned her against speaking her mind – she was forever getting into trouble for it. Her fiery temper and quick tongue reflected her red hair, and it was always a fight to keep from spitting out every thought that entered her head.
“Well, ‘tis true,” she said, a little defiantly. She could feel the slight tug on her arm as Rebecca attempted to quieten her, but she spoke only the truth – why should she be silent? “‘Tis but four o’clock, and we have plenty of time to see the gardens after the parkland. And after all, the owner of Wandorne has not been seen for months, has he? No one has seen him, and that man in the village said that the house was empty. Gone to the continent, if I recall. He is hardly going to complain that we took a little longer to walk around his park.”
The raised eyebrow had not lowered, but Chloe saw Sir Kyle smiling broadly. At least her friend’s betrothed could see the funny side.
“Ah, the lake!” Rebecca’s free hand pointed and all eyes turned towards it. “Chloe, shall we take a closer look?”
If Chloe had expected to be able to give a reply, she was sorely mistaken; Rebecca strode forward with her friend’s arm in her own. Almost stumbling over the long skirts of her gown – the one that her mother had described as the height of today’s fashion, and Chloe had described as a waste of good muslin – her eyes widened when she saw a small shape flicker in the water.
“A newt!”
“A smooth newt, I think,” Rebecca said, peering as closely as she could to the shadow without falling in. “Although it could be a Palmate newt, of course.”
“And fish,” said Chloe, her societal concerns completely ignored as much as her hostess. “Freshwater, no doubt – though what is the likelihood that saltwater fish could survive in a place like this?”
“It would be a matter of timing,” replied Rebecca seriously. “Any fish will fight to survive, surely, in any given water state, but over time – ”
“What are you girls talking about? That is impossible!”
Chloe closed her eyes for a moment, regained control of her spark of ire that threatened to flash through her, and plastered a smile on her face. Turning to Mr Ramsbottom, she said nothing but waited for the idiot – mental correction, the gentleman – to continue.
Rebecca was more controlled. A brilliant smile asked, “Why is it impossible?”
Lady Kathryn and Sir Kyle were still following the path, but Mr Ramsbottom had followed the two ladies towards the edge of the lake, and there was a mocking smile on his face.
“Everyone knows that saltwater fish live in the ocean,” he said with what he clearly thought was a charming smile on his face, speaking slowly as though to a child.
“Everyone knew that our sun went around this orb,” countered Chloe quietly. “Until they did not.”
“And gravity was discovered but a few hundred years ago,” Rebecca pointed out. “Do you think that it did not exist before then?”
Now Mr Ramsbottom was laughing, and that irritated Chloe more than any of his words had done. What did this fop think was so funny, with his carefully shined boots and his overly complex cravat?
“Your interest in history is commendable,” he said with a smirk. “Do you like reading, Miss Vaughn?”
“I like the sciences, Mr Ramsbottom,” she replied cuttingly. “For that is what we are, Miss Callaghan and myself. Natural philosophers.”
Even from several feet away, Chloe could not miss the look Lady Kathryn gave to the heavens in despair, and it rankled with her in a way that nothing else could.
“Miss Vaughn,” Sir Kyle said quietly. “You know full well that the universities will not allow two young ladies like yourselves – any young ladies, for that matter – to matriculate into their colleges. ‘Tis unjust, and foolhardy to lose the skills of yourself and Miss Callaghan, and yet that is the sad truth of our nation today.”
Before Chloe could open her mouth to agree with Sir Kyle in the injustice of it, a noise startled her to silence.
It was laughter. Mr Ramsbottom was laughing at her.
“A woman – natural philosopher? A female natural philosopher? My, that is good, Miss Vaughn, you almost had me there!” And as if to add insult to injury, he pulled out a large kerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the corners of his eyes.
“And why exactly should such a thing, such a person, be a laughing matter to you?” Chloe had barely noticed that she had taken several steps forward and was now peering fiercely into Mr Ramsbottom’s face, who now looked alarmed. “I see no reason why a woman could not be equally good as a man at discussing the secrets of nature – better, perhaps!”
“Now, Chloe,” came Rebecca’s placating voice, “I do think that Mr Ramsbottom – ”
“That is exactly what he meant,” Chloe interrupted, not taking her eyes from the now slightly concerned Mr Ramsbottom. “He does not believe that a woman could attend university, do you Mr Ramsbottom?”
Ravishing Regencies- The Complete Series Page 44
