Broken Vows, Mended Hearts: A Bouquet of ThistlesPaying the PiperBattle-Torn Bride

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Broken Vows, Mended Hearts: A Bouquet of ThistlesPaying the PiperBattle-Torn Bride Page 26

by Gail Ranstrom


  “Then I must ask your indulgence.” He raised their joined right hands to kiss her fingers, one by one, a most delicate maneuver, which caused her belly to flutter anew. “For I deliberately did not come until now.”

  “Did you think I would change my mind and fall out of love as quickly as I fell into it? I am no child to do so on a whim!” The gleam in her eye, the angle of her raised chin left him in no doubt of the inner fire and quick temper. He loved her for it.

  “Ah. The fickleness of women.” The challenge in her delighted him. What a splendid future he would have with this quicksilver woman. He pushed himself up against the pillows, stretched to smooth her lips with the pad of his thumb. “No. That was never my fear. If you were willing to send the swan across half the country when every brigand and robber was afoot, with law and order stretched to near destruction, I knew that you must still be of the same heart and mind. My lovely Beatrice…”

  Now his fingers slid around her nape to draw her closer. She did not resist the seduction of his words but leaned in to kiss him, her lips as soft and inviting as he had ever remembered them. So he kissed her again, increasing the pressure, increasing the heat. “I waited more than six months. I had to be sure in my own mind that I could come to you without guilt. And if there was to be any objection to my formal request, six months of your wearing widow’s garb was an acceptable time for your family.” Watching her, taking in every detail of her face, he asked the question that had been in his mind since the brooch and letter had been delivered. “Will you wed me, Beatrice? I think your brother will not oppose it.”

  The sudden glow in her eyes was unmistakable but her answer was solemn and typically Beatrice. “No. He will not. Ned will wish us happy. But you should know—if it had been your wish to take a wealthy widow as your bride.” She watched him from beneath dark lashes.

  Richard smiled at her concern. “What is it that I should know? Will you be penniless? If so, I must most assuredly cast you off.”

  But there was no humor in her reply. “William’s influence carries far beyond the grave. He left me a rich widow. But if I remarry, my legacy becomes no more than a bed, a table and the paltry sum of forty pounds!”

  “So wily Somerton would tie you to widowhood with money, just as he acquired you as his wife!”

  “Yes. Richard—dear Richard—would you want a poor bride?” He saw anxiety there. And a strange insecurity. It surprised him and touched his heart.

  “I did not come here to negotiate money with you, Beatrice,” he replied simply. “I came to claim you as my wife.”

  “I shall lose this house.”

  “Then, of course, you will live with me at Elton’s Marsh.” He had no intention of allowing any other situation. He cared not for the ownership of Great Houghton as long as he had Beatrice Hatton.

  “I shall lose the estate and its income.”

  “Then I must pay for your jewels and extravagant clothes, lady.”

  “I can be very extravagant.” Beatrice laughed, a suddenly lighthearted, joyous sound in the quiet room.

  “Beatrice?” Now all that was needed was the formality of the thing, Richard pushed her a little away so that he might look at her, watch her response as he spoke and she answered. “Listen to me.” His fingers closed harder because her reply meant more to him than he would ever have believed. “I want you, Beatrice Hatton. With or without an inheritance. Will you grant me your hand in marriage? Will you come and live with me at Elton’s Marsh where I might love you? Will you carry my heirs and live with me until death?”

  For a long moment she looked at him, at the much beloved features, acknowledged the splendor of his generous soul, marveling that he was now hers. William’s hold over them was finally loosened, the wounds of the past cleansed and healed.

  “Well, Beatrice?” There was an edge to his patience. But there was no need to fear.

  “Yes, Richard Stafford.” She reached to touch her fingers to his lips. “Yes. I will do all of those things. With my whole heart.”

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-2978-5

  BROKEN VOWS, MENDED HEARTS

  Copyright © 2006 by Harlequin Books S.A.

  The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the individual works as follows:

  A BOUQUET OF THISTLES

  Copyright © 2006 by Lynda Stone

  PAYING THE PIPER

  Copyright © 2006 by Gail Ranstrom

  BATTLE-TORN BRIDE

  Copyright © 2006 by Anne O’Brien

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

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