The Hanson household remained shuttered and dark. There was no sign of Horatio either. He had to pass by this way to return to the garrison, but it was possible I had missed his return to town when I had been helping my sisters prepare for bed. I comforted myself with the thought of his promise to call upon me in the morning to let me know how everything had turned out. I had to believe that nothing would prevent him from doing that. Horatio Crushington was not the sort of man to make promises lightly.
A glance at my bedchamber clock warned me that the first light of dawn would be breaking soon. I needed to try to snatch a few hours’ sleep. The grand ball that had so disrupted our lives was over and I would need to return to my workaday world and more practical considerations. Like what I could serve for dinner tomorrow besides another pot of stewed eel and how I was going to stretch what remained of our funds until next quarter day.
I shifted off the windowsill, rubbing my hip, sore and stiff from perching on the hard wood. I was just about to snuff out my candle when I heard the clatter of a horse’s hooves upon the cobblestone street. Leaning out the window, I saw a lone rider approach from the direction of the Heights. My heart soared with relief as I recognized Horatio’s stalwart frame, tall and upright in the saddle.
He slowed Loyal to a walk as he neared my home. Glancing toward the house, he reined the gelding to a halt. Horatio could likely see me better than I could him. Framed in my window, I was illuminated by the candle I was holding. Despite the flickering light from the streetlamps, Horatio’s features were lost in shadow.
But I could discern when he nodded his head to reassure me all was well. Then he lifted his hand to his brow and snapped off a sharp salute, a rather playful gesture for the solemn commander. I grinned and waved back at him. Before he could ride off, I launched into a series of hand motions, pointing downward, moving two fingers to simulate walking, followed by a frantic beckoning.
He craned his neck to observe me and I was afraid he would not comprehend the meaning behind all my impulsive gestures. But understanding must have dawned upon him and he dismounted, looping Loyal’s reins about one of the fence’s posts. I was not sure why he had bothered. I could not imagine anything short of a roaring fire would ever induce that horse to stray far from his master’s side. Perhaps Horatio was more concerned that Loyal would attempt to follow him through the gate.
The hinges creaked loudly as Horatio entered my front garden. At the same moment, a low moan issued from Em’s bedchamber next to mine, indicating that my stepmother was also passing a restless night. Being reunited with her old beau had left Em in a flustered, excited state. I cringed at the thought of waking her, imagining Em bursting into my room, demanding to know what I was doing. Trysting with Horatio Crushington at such an indecent hour, clad only in my nightgown! I could hardly explain the impulse that had come over me, even to myself.
All I knew was the way my heart quickened as Horatio picked his way through the wild tangle of my roses to stand beneath my window. Before he could call out to me, I placed a cautioning finger to my lips. Gesturing, I managed to convey to him that he should meet me out back.
I closed my window and doused the candle. My childhood nocturnal adventures with Mal had gifted me with the ability to sneak through the dark house, stealthily and silently. I tiptoed through the upper hall and down the stairs, still remembering to avoid the boards that creaked. Ducking into the drawing room, I located my old shawl that I had left discarded upon the settee. I draped it around my shoulders in an effort to maintain some semblance of modesty and then I slipped quietly out of the double doors.
Horatio was already there, his tall form a looming shadow beneath the pergola. I hastened toward him, my bare feet whispering through the damp grass. If my blistered heel still bothered me, I was hardly aware of it. My steps grew quicker and I was nearly running as I closed the distance between us. I drew up short at the last moment, keenly aware of how disheveled I must look, dressed in my worn, much-mended nightgown, my hair tumbling wildly about my shoulders.
The sky had lightened to a deep grey, the same hue as Horatio’s eyes. He looked exhausted, the bruise on his cheek that he had sustained during the fight, more prominent. But his entire face lit up at the sight of me.
Seized by a rare attack of shyness, I felt my cheeks warm. Before I could speak, Horatio said, “I should not be disturbing you at such an unreasonable hour, Ella.”
I smiled ruefully. “I am the one doing the disturbing. You look so tired, I should have allowed you to return to the garrison, but I was so anxious to hear the news.”
“Of course.” Horatio offered me a reassuring smile. “You need fret no longer. The Hansons and our other Midtown citizens will be obliged to spend another uncomfortable night in the King’s Royal Prison until they have paid a hefty fine, but then they will be released. It took a great deal of arguing and persuading on my part, but Sidney Greenleaf has given his word that he will intercede with the king.”
“And you trust Mercato? You are on such good terms with that wizard?” I asked in a troubled voice.
“I would not exactly call it good terms. But we seem to have developed a grudging respect for one another. This may be hard for you to believe, Ella, but Sidney—that is, Mercato—can be reasonable as long as it does not jeopardize his own position. I convinced him that obtaining a pardon for the arrested Midtown citizens will enhance Sidney’s reputation as a man of power and earn him the gratitude of all of Midtown.”
“Humph!” I said indignantly. “You are the one they should all be grateful to. The Great Mercato would not have lifted a finger to help anyone if you had not intervened. The Hansons, especially, should get down upon their knees to thank you.”
“The fairies forfend! I don’t want their thanks or their gratitude.” Horatio paused. His jaw worked, like a man wrestling with some momentous decision or trying to summon his courage. That was surely a ridiculous supposition on my part because Horatio had to be one of the bravest men I had ever known.
But when his eyes met mine, I had never seen him look so anxious or vulnerable as he said, “I have to admit I was thinking only of you when I leapt to the Hansons’ defense.”
“Me?” I asked, astonished.
“From the first of our acquaintance, you saw me a harsh, rigid kind of man. I fear perhaps you still might do so at times.” Horatio flushed with embarrassment. “You will think me a great fool, but I wanted to play the role of hero before you.”
I gave an incredulous laugh. “Oh, Horatio, you never have to play at that. You are already a hero in my eyes. You rescued me from that villain Iggy Burt, remember? You saved my sister from disgrace. But I am flattered you value my opinion of you so highly.”
“Why would I not?” He stepped closer and gathered up my hand, drawing it close to the region of his heart. “I love you.”
My jaw dropped. It was not as though I was unaware of Horatio’s feelings for me. At one time, I had even dreaded him making such a declaration. But it was the way that he said it. I love you. So simply, so quietly, so sincerely. My heart raced wildly. I could scarce breathe, let alone speak.
I was silent so long that Horatio’s face fell. “I am sorry. I have spoken too soon. I knew I should have waited, given you time to know me better, but I am finding it more and more difficult to restrain myself when I am near you. But I should have. I…I am sorry if I have offended you.”
He started to release my hand.
“No,” I cried, finding my voice at last. I entwined my fingers through his to prevent him drawing away from me. “I am not offended.” I released a shaky breath. “I am just a bit overwhelmed and—and cannot understand why.”
Horatio’s expression lightened with hope, but confusion as well. ‘Why what?”
“Why would you ever fall in love with me, Horatio? I never cause you anything but trouble. You had to battle that huge brute on my behalf. I got you entangled in that situation with the Hansons and you even got hurt in the fight.”
I touched the bruise on his cheek. “And then you caught me and my sister in the banned part of the palace, but you protected us and helped me get Amy to safety.”
And I lied, deceiving you about the real reason I was in the forbidden area.
I still could not bring myself to confess that to Horatio. I concluded miserably, “I do not see in the least why you should love me at all.”
Hope had returned to Horatio’s eyes, but he blew out a deep breath as he sought an answer for my question. “Well, I—”
“And please do not say it is just because you think I am beautiful,” I warned him.
“All right, although I do.”
I pulled a face. “Even the way I usually look, tearing about in my faded gowns, my hair a flyaway mess?”
Horatio released my hand to caress his fingers through my hair, smoothing out a tangle as he did so. He smiled tenderly. “I actually prefer you with your hair down. It makes you look softer, approachable. I was rather in awe of you tonight at the ball. You were so dazzlingly beautiful in that silken gown, your hair pulled up in that crown of ringlets. You looked like a fairy princess far beyond the reach of a mere Scutcheon officer like me.”
“Nonsense.” I shook my head deprecatingly. “You should know by now that was not the real me. As for my appearance, there are many other women, even in Midtown, far more beautiful and elegant than me.”
“Are there? I have never noticed.” Horatio caressed my cheek, sending a shiver of warmth through me. “When I first was assigned to Midtown, it was your lovely face that attracted my notice. It gave me pleasure just to look at you as I rode by, making my rounds. As time went by, I observed you more closely and saw how kind you were, to your family, to others, even to me.”
“Oh, come now, Horatio,” I protested. “You cannot claim that you ever found me sweet. I recall more than one sarcastic remark that I made to you.”
Horatio chuckled. “No, you are not sweet. But you do possess a sharp wit that I admire.”
“But surely no man falls in love with a woman for a reason like that.”
“No, not entirely. I was attracted by your beauty, your kindness and intelligence. But as to what caused my feelings for you to deepen?” He frowned. “I suppose it has more to do with the effect you have on me when I am with you. I cannot explain it.”
“Please try.” I rested my hands upon his shoulders and peered earnestly up at him, seeking to convey to him how important this was to me. Prince Ryland had once composed songs in praise of my beauty and charm. When his love for me had proved to be weak and fleeting, my world had been shattered. If I was ever to risk my heart again, I needed to know that Horatio’s feelings were stronger than that.
Horatio sighed and lifted his gaze heavenward as though desperately seeking inspiration, struggling to find the words to answer my question. The glimpse of sky through the latticework of the pergola had lightened to a pearly grey. I could hear the distant call of a lark announcing that daybreak was almost upon us.
But time seemed to have stopped for me as I breathlessly awaited his answer. Finally, Horatio lowered his eyes to meet mine. He said haltingly, “I am a plain man, Ella. I tend to view things in black and white, occasionally shades of grey. But when I am with you, you make me see the world in vibrant color and—and it’s glorious.”
“Oh!”
If Horatio had overwhelmed me before, this time the sincerity in his eyes and his voice nearly moved me to tears. And humbled me as well as I fully realized the impact I had had upon the heart of this stern, proud and lonely man.
Once again mistaking my reaction, Horatio sought to apologize. “Forgive me, Ella. I am sure you wanted something far more eloquent than that. But I am not good at expressing my emotions or paying compliments to a lady or—”
I pressed my fingertips to his lips to silence him. Smiling up at him, I said in a voice thickened by emotion, “Yes, you are, Horatio Crushington. Th-that is quite the most wonderful thing any man has ever said to me.”
“Then there is a chance you might learn to return my regard?”
“Yes,” I stammered. “I believe that I could.”
I can hardly describe the expression that came over Horatio’s face when I said this. A look of heartfelt wonder as though he could not believe his good fortune, as though I had indeed made his world erupt with a burst of color. Another man might have whooped with joy and snatched me up in his embrace.
But Horatio took my face between his hands, just drinking in the sight of me for a long moment before he touched his lips to mine. As though he feared if he was not careful, I could still slip between his fingers and vanish.
But when I wrapped my arms about his neck and melted against him, that was all the encouragement he needed to kiss me in earnest. Passionately, tenderly, fiercely. If I had found magic the first time he had kissed me at the ball, this time it was pure enchantment. His lips moved over mine, causing my blood to sing through my veins, making me feel as though I was floating off the ground.
I did experience a twinge as I recalled I still had not told Horatio the truth about the stolen orb. And another pang as I thought of Mal, of how devastated he would be when he realized I was encouraging Horatio’s pursuit of me. Would our friendship survive it?
But I determinedly thrust all thoughts of Mal and the orb out of my head. Because I refused to allow anything to spoil the magic of this moment, the wonder of what was happening to me. I had not just opened my arms to Horatio, I had opened my heart as well. That door I had slammed closed years ago to protect myself from ever being hurt again, slowly inched open, letting in the prospect of hope, joy and love.
I reflected that in all the old romantic tales, this was where the story would end with “and they lived happily ever after.” But I fear I was still too practical to believe in that. I was sadly familiar with the kind of tragic things that can happen to shatter dreams, death and betrayal and the difficulty of merely trying to survive under the harsh rules of our kingdom.
The romance that had blossomed between Horatio and me was new and fragile. It had yet to be tested by time and hardship, perhaps even divided loyalties. We still had so much to learn about each other, so many discoveries to make and secrets to reveal, mostly mine.
For now, I was content just to lose myself in the magic of Horatio’s kisses. We broke apart only long enough to catch our breath and to beam at each other before we fell to kissing again. I was still locked in his embrace when the sun rose over my garden, full of the promise of a bright new day.
This book is lovingly dedicated to John and Gina Hinrichs.
BY SUSAN CARROLL
Disenchanted
The Dark Queen
The Dark Queen
The Courtesan
The Silver Rose
The Huntress
Twilight of a Queen
The Lady of Secrets
St. Leger Legacy
The Bride Finder
The Night Drifter
Midnight Bride
CREDIT: TODD WELVAERT
SUSAN CARROLL is an award-winning romance author whose books include The Bride Finder and its two sequels, The Night Drifter and Midnight Bride, as well as The Painted Veil, Winterbourne, The Dark Queen, The Courtesan, The Silver Rose, The Huntress, Twilight of a Queen, and The Lady of Secrets. She lives in Geneseo, Illinois.
Read on for a sneak peek of Susan Carroll’s next enchanting book in the Tales of Arcady series
Charmless
Available from Loveswept
Chapter 1
The great royal ball that had caused such disruption in our kingdom was finally over and I, for one, was relieved. I had been threatened by a witch who could turn herself into a cat, fended off the lascivious advances of a pixified prince, and nearly been caught stealing a magic orb from the king’s treasury room. Not exactly the sort of romantic evening most girls dream about.
Unlike those other maidens, I had only attended the ball with the greatest reluctance and no r
eal expectations of finding my one true love. I sometimes wondered if a malevolent fairy had presided over my birth and placed a curse on me. “Ella Upton, instead of living happily ever after, your epitaph shall be: the misadventure of her life continued until she drew her last breath.” Certainly, if I had had any notion of the fresh disaster awaiting me the day after the ball, I would have never gotten out of bed.
I did sleep far later than usual, but I was blissfully unaware of the dire events to come. When the sun kept trying to prod me awake, I burrowed deeper beneath the covers. I was exhausted, my feet sore from far too much dancing, but I was also experiencing the euphoria of a woman who had been thoroughly and soundly kissed.
Not by the prince, although Prince Florian had embraced me last night. I still gagged at the thought of how His Highness had shoved his tongue so deep into my mouth, it was as though he was trying to lick my tonsils. No, the lips that had reduced me to this state of remembered bliss belonged to the most unlikely man in the kingdom.
Horatio Alexander Samuel Edward Crushington, the stern and forbidding commander of the Midtown Scutcheons. When Horatio had first arrived to take up his post several years ago, I had striven to avoid him, thinking him a harsh, humorless sort of man. But I discovered that beneath his rigid exterior, he could be gentle and kind, with a touch of awkward shyness that I found endearing. When he had attended the royal ball and shaved off his thick dark beard, I also discovered he was a devastatingly handsome man, more so than Florian or any of his four blond younger brothers.
When Horatio had met me in my back garden in the wee hours of that morning, I had not been prepared for him to confess his love in his usual forthright manner. At the age of seventeen, I had been cruelly deceived by a young man who had sworn to love me forever and then simply vanished from my life. Seven years later, my heart had still been so bruised, I did not think I would ever be able to trust those words from any man again.
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