Love Forever After

by Patricia Rice

  Penelope stood in the study, gazing out over the sunlit winter landscape. The bare trees looked as bleak as she felt, and for the thousandth time she repented her harsh sentence.

  She tried to summon up all the arguments that had kept her anger fierce these last weeks. He was a vengeful man who would kill an injured man to achieve his own selfish goals. He had deceived her wickedly, cruelly. All the time he had whispered words of love, he was bent on revenging his first wife, his real love. For him to ignore her pleas, she could mean nothing to him. Nothing. Now that his disguise was revealed, he could return to the carefree society a young viscount of handsome visage and great wealth could enjoy. He didn’t need her any longer. With DeVere behind bars, he could seek the proper wife he needed, and he would no longer need a plain vicar’s daughter to mother Alexandra.

  Penelope’s eyes remained dry as she numbered these arguments. She had used them so frequently, they rang hollow. She only knew she needed to see Graham again, needed to hear from his lips that he no longer wanted her. His lack of letters should be convincing argument enough, but her heart wouldn’t listen to reason.

  Her worst problem now was that she knew herself too well. She knew that as soon as she saw Graham she would do anything conceivable to keep him, up to and including telling him of the child.

  She touched the rounding that was the only outward sign of her condition. He would have to know sooner or later, anyway. She knew the gossip flying between their houses would carry the news as soon as it was evident.

  If only he would take her back without knowing of the child, take her back because he wanted her and loved her as much as she did him. . . That would be too much to ask. She would have to be content with the love of the children and an occasional glimpse of the handsome husband who would endure her presence for the sake of them.

  Tears slid down her cheeks, but she wiped them away at the sound of footsteps outside the door. The laughter of girlish voices reminded her she was not in her lonely cottage.

  By the time Penelope left the orphanage, she had gathered the courage to do what she must do. It was late and there would not be time to return to her cottage if Graham refused to see her, but she could stop at the Reardons’ to see how Dolly’s wedding plans fared. Dolly’s letters were a joy to read, but they would sound even better with Dolly’s gleeful voice to speak them aloud. Perhaps Guy and Arthur would be there, too, and it would be almost like old times.

  Not daring to believe Graham would be at home, much less willing to receive her, Penelope stepped from the carriage at the Hall doors. The house was as lovely as she remembered, and she stared up at it longingly. She had been a fool to throw it all away. Her punishment was to discard her pride and admit her foolishness.

  Excited laughter in the front hall drew Graham from the upstairs study. He clutched the rail in disbelief at sight of Penelope gracing the entrance to his home, looking more beautiful than his dreams. His feet moved of their own accord, almost running until he caught the stair rail. He forced himself to descend slowly, not daring to take his eyes from the dream below.

  Penelope looked up at him. The shadows of her violet eyes took his breath away, and he lifted his hand in silent entreaty. Penelope stepped forward, her gaze focused upon his face, but she said no word. It took eternity for him to reach her.

  The servants melted from the hall, leaving Graham to lead Penelope into the parlor. He closed the door and leaned on it, his eyes feasting on the vision of loveliness his painful thoughts had conjured into being. She seemed paler than he remembered, her cheeks more hollowed and less pink, but if those full lips would only turn up at the corners. . . His breath caught in his throat as Penelope took off her bonnet and twisted its ribbons between her fingers.

  “I am sorry to disturb you, Graham.” She couldn’t look at him anymore. The sight of that pale scar across his cheek disturbed memories so deep she could not speak. She wanted to touch his face, to run her fingers through the silver mane of his hair. She couldn’t believe that after all these weeks she was actually standing in the same room with him. She felt faint, and she steadied herself on the back of a chair.

  Graham instantly offered his hand and gestured toward a seat. “Sit, Penelope. My surprise. . . I wasn’t thinking.”

  When he tried to take her pelisse, Penelope shook her head. She wrapped the protective folds around her and balanced on the chair indicated. Graham’s proximity drove all thought from her mind, and she did not know what to say next.

  “Let me send for some tea. You must be cold.” Graham started toward the door.

  Penelope stopped his flight with a raised hand. “No, do not distract me. I must say what I have come to tell you before I lose my courage.”

  He watched her with doubting eyes, and her heart sank.

  Before she could speak again, Graham imitated her gesture and held up his hand to stop the flow of words. “Perhaps I should be the one to speak first. I just don’t know how to find the phrases. Help me, Penelope. Tell me what an ungrateful, unforgiving wretch I am. Curse me. Throw things at me. Just don’t sit there with those wide accusing eyes and bring me to my knees, because I’ll go down on them if it will help.”

  Penelope’s lips parted in astonishment, and she rose before he could do as threatened. Daringly she stepped closer, her eyes searching his for explanations. “Do you know then? Has your sister already guessed and told you? I would not have kept the truth from you, but I so much wanted to hear from you first, before you knew of the child. But you never wrote, and I knew I had said terrible things, and I didn’t think I would ever hear from you again. . .”

  Graham stared at her in disbelief, shook his head, and pushed her down in the chair again. “Don’t apologize to this lying, deceiving, arrogant beast, Penelope, but let me speak my piece first. My behavior has been reprehensible to a degree beyond forgiveness, I realize that. But for Alexandra’s sake, can we not find some common ground, some means of hiding the breach so we can be together again? I will do anything you like, explain everything I can, just don’t turn your back on us until you’ve given us a chance.”

  Penelope’s eyes clouded with tears. For Alexandra’s sake, of course, she should have realized that. He would do anything for his daughter without even needing to know of the child she carried. He was offering her the opportunity to come back. Why, then, were the tears running down her cheeks and her heart disintegrating into painful shards of glass?

  Graham took her response for denial and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to face him. Penelope refused, turning her head away, but he would not let her refuse him. He clutched her fiercely. “Don’t deny me, Penelope. You came here for a reason. Was it Alexandra that brought you here? Tell me, Penelope, so I can find the right words to keep you.”

  Penelope took a deep breath and met his gaze. “I came because I could not stay away. Pride cannot keep me company. It makes a very lonely bedfellow. Besides, I thought it would be best if you heard it from my lips first. I am going to have a child.”

  Graham’s grip on her shoulders tightened. He continued staring at her. “A child?” Dumfounded, he staggered back a little.

  Penelope studied his stricken expression with amusement. “A child. I believe that happens occasionally. Since you already have one, I rather thought you knew how it came about.”

  Even with that shocked expression, Graham was so handsome it almost made her cry. He did not wear his frock coat, and the gold brocade waistcoat he favored hung unfastened over an untied cravat, but he could never be any less than the man she loved. She longed to touch his silver mane of hair, did not dare consider her need for those firm, chiseled lips on hers, but waited for his recovery from her news. She had done it. Now, he could not turn her away.

  In amazement, she watched joy cross features she had once considered hard and impassive. The angular planes of his cheeks lifted, pulling with them the corners of his lips. His breathtaking smile nearly destroyed Penelope’s composure. She had expected resignati
on, politeness, perhaps some anticipation, but not this overwhelming, unrestricted, tremendous joy.

  Abruptly, Graham lifted her from her feet and swung her around the room in dizzying circles. A curl tumbled from her pins and her pelisse flew like the wings of a great bird. Her head spun giddily—not just at the wild dance but from Graham’s intoxicating proximity. She did not want him to ever let go.

  “Oh, my pretty Penny, I’ll not make you sorry you married me this time. I’ll make it all up to you, you will see. I will do everything right from now on, and the child will make you happy, and soon you will not regret having a fool for a husband.”

  Laughing, crying, afraid to hear more in his words than was there, Penelope clung to his wide shoulders as if her life depended on it—as it did. He was her life, her soul, her happiness. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face against the fresh scent of his linen-covered shoulder and surrendered to his mad ecstasy.

  A moment later he was slowing down, apologizing again, his kisses trailing across her cheek and hair. “I did not think. You should be sitting still. Let me put you on the sofa. I’ll have a maid bring a blanket to wrap around you. You shouldn’t have been out in that cold. Let me send for tea. I’ll send someone to pack your things and close up the cottage.”

  Penelope held a finger to his lips as he set her against the cushions. She tugged on his arm to pull him down beside her. Bracing his arm on the carved back of the couch, Graham looked down at her questioningly.

  “I am glad that you are happy about the child. I feared you would consider it a nuisance now that you can safely return to your proper place in society. I just want you to know I will not hinder you in taking that place. Perhaps you would prefer it if I stayed in Hampshire. It’s just. . . I would like to see Alexandra once in a while, if I might.”

  Graham studied her with bewilderment. “I would not prefer you in Hampshire. I would prefer you right here, in my bed, where I can keep an eye on you. Somebody has to keep you from climbing ladders and gallivanting into slums. If you do not feel well enough to share my bed, I will understand, but I’ll not let you any farther than the next room, and then I would prefer you keep the door open between us.”

  Laughing shakily, Penelope traced the hard line of his cheek. “I am having a baby, not dying a lingering death. I am perfectly healthy and do not need a guardian angel. Just do not pretend for the sake of the child, Graham. I know we married for convenience. If I have gone a little over my head, it’s my concern and not yours. I am quite independent. You need not think you must be beside me.”

  Graham frowned, a horrifying frown that should have shook her to her toes. Penelope smiled, and he scowled worse.

  “You are a greater fool than I if you think I intend to let you go your merry way again,” he growled. “To hell with convenience. You are my wife and you are carrying my child. I’ll not let you out of my sight if it pleases me, and it does. Perhaps I have deceived you too long so you cannot trust me, but I am not pretending now, Penelope, nor will I in the future. I want you as well as the child.”

  Penelope smiled sadly at the sincerity in his voice. How many times had he spoken words of love, cajoled her with soft caresses while pretending to be what he was not? He would not have let her go in the first place if he cared as much as he had promised.

  “It would be better if we could start out honestly, Graham. I am grateful that you are taking me back. You need not pretend you are pleased to be saddled with a vicar’s daughter.”

  Graham muttered irascibly and stood, stalking up and down the floor as he spoke. “I suppose this is what I deserve for having deceived you. What do I have to do to persuade you that I have never been less than honest in my feelings for you? You are the woman I want, the woman I wish to spend the rest of my days with. You have been from the very first moment I stepped across the portals of that damned cottage. I want the child, yes. I want many children! But I want you to be their mother.”

  He was roaring, his deep voice vibrating the sounding board of the harpsichord and jarring a delicate bud vase to the edge of a table. With his back toward the door, he did not see it open, nor notice the small figure slipping through, crumpled paper in hand.

  Penelope did, however, and her face lit with pleasure. At Penelope’s expression, Graham swung around, and his frown was fierce as he noted the mangled foolscap in his daughter’s hand.

  “I want Penny to stay.” Alexandra glared back at her father and stamped her foot. “And you do, too. It says so right here.” She shook the paper under his nose, or more properly, his trouser band. “I just can’t read all the words.”

  Before Graham could pounce on her, Alexandra placed the precious letter in Penelope’s hands. Penelope recognized Graham’s writing, then glanced questioningly at to him.

  Graham managed to look embarrassed and annoyed at the same time, but he nodded curt permission for her to read. Penelope smoothed the paper lovingly, postponing the moment of revelation, wanting to savor the flavor of hope and not the bitterness of disappointment.

  She scanned the lines of explanations, his apology for not listening to her about Arthur, for deceiving her, his decision to protect her by leaving her in Hampshire out of DeVere’s reach. She read this last cautiously, not daring to let hope rise too high. She lifted her gaze to Graham, but he was staring into the fire. Alexandra watched her expectantly, and Penelope continued to read the long, sloping lines of her husband’s unsent letter.

  A tear formed in her eye as she read his words of love, the outpouring of a heart as proud as hers. He begged her forgiveness, if not for his sake, then for Alexandra’s. He asked only that she see him again, allow Alexandra to visit, and no more. He had poured his heart into this letter and never posted it.

  Penelope folded it and studied her husband’s back. “Graham? Why did you never post this?”

  He swung around. “You came before I could finish. I could not find a line that would say how much I am sorry, how much I miss you, how much I love you, how much I want you back. I did not mind if you laughed in my face, but I could not bear it if you refused.”

  Tears rolled down her cheeks as she held out her hands to him. Dazed, Graham knelt beside the couch and pulled her into his arms where Penelope’s tears mixed with her kisses.

  “I think my beast may have turned into a handsome prince at last. I love you, Graham. Don’t you know I could never refuse you?”

  “Then know now, my sleeping beauty, you are mine forever after. That’s the way the spell works.”

  As he bent to kiss her, a dainty black-haired fairy grinned and crept out the open door whispering, “And they lived happily ever after, just like the story says.”

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  About the Author

  With several million books in print and New York Times and USA Today's bestseller lists under her belt, former CPA Patricia Rice is one of romance's hottest authors. Her emotionally-charged contemporary and historical romances have won numerous awards, including the RT Book Reviews Reviewers Choice and Career Achievement Awards. Her books have been honored as Romance Writers of America RITA® finalists in the historical, regency and contemporary categories.

  A firm believer in happily-ever-after, Patricia Rice is married to her high school sweetheart and has two children. A native of Kentucky and New York, a past resident of North Carolina and Missouri, she currently resides in Southern California, a
nd now does accounting only for herself. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, the Authors Guild, and Novelists, Inc.

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