by Kelly Boyce
“Then I issue a hearty cheer to their impending nuptials. Here, here!”
The group joined in, though Hen could not help but wonder if their hearty congratulations were due more in part at having Lady Susan removed from Society for at least the time being, or any actual felicitations in wishing the couple happy.
James stepped forward. “And will you be attending the wedding as well, Rothbury?”
“Indeed I will not. I have more pressing business in London.”
“And what business might that be?” Lord Hawksmoor stepped away from the middle of the guests and took up residence on Hen’s right side, the left already being occupied by Mr. Bowen, who had arrived next to her without notice or fanfare. Hen had the strange sensation they were standing sentinel, protecting her. But from what? What else could Alex possibly do to her that could cause her more pain than the withdrawal of his feelings?
Alex cleared his throat and his gaze scanned the guests whose full attention now rested upon him. From the fifteen feet or so that separated her from Alex, Hen noted a rosy hue had darkened his cheeks, as if he were embarrassed by the attention, or nervous. Her heart pounded against her breast while her mind searched out the answer to the riddle unfolding in front of her.
“My business is with Lady Henrietta. Perhaps we might speak in private, my lady—”
“No,” Lord Hawksmoor stated flatly. “I don’t think that would be appropriate.”
Lord Huntsleigh laughed. “Well, if that is not the kettle calling the pot black, Hawk. Or is it the pot that called the kettle black…”
“I believe it was the pot,” Mr. Bowen said, his dark brows drawing downward.
“I think perhaps that is not the most important issue at hand, gentlemen,” Lord Blackbourne suggested, looking toward Hen’s brother. “Ridgemont?”
James took a deep breath his expression wrestling between wishing to protect his sister from harm and wanting to trust his oldest friend. “Perhaps you might wish to state your business, Rothbury.”
“Indeed,” Lord Glenmor said. “I’m sure we’re all on tenterhooks to hear whatever it might be.”
Hen’s heart pounded harder until her ribs rattled and heat burned across her chest and up her neck. Should he not reveal what his appearance here had to do with her and do so quickly, she would incinerate on the spot from the waiting!
Alex cleared his throat a second time and, after a brief glance toward his father who nodded in response, he took a step toward her. Then another. And then he did the most unexpected thing.
He dropped down onto one knee and took her hand.
“Alex,” she whispered, too stunned to come up with anything more than his name as the portent of what he was about hit her full force. “You must get up.”
She pulled at his hand, but he shook his head, holding hers firm and maintaining his position on the floor in front of her.
James bent to address him, whispering low enough that only she, Alex, Lord Hawksmoor, and Mr. Bowen could hear. “If you are about to do what I think you are about to do, know that if you do not follow through, I shall flog you within an inch of your life in the middle of Hyde Park then leave you there for the birds to peck at whatever is left.”
“Duly noted,” Alex said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I would like a word with your sister.”
James straightened and nodded toward Mr. Bowen and Lord Hawksmoor, who both took a reluctant step away from her.
Alex returned his full attention to Hen, its strength a potent mix that made her knees tremble. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I made a grave mistake. I knew this the moment I said the words to you. The moment you walked away. I wanted to rush after you, to make amends, to take back every stupid thing I had said, but I thought it too late. That the damage was done and could not be undone and perhaps I was right on that accord.”
“It’s fine,” Hen said, pulling at his hand again but to no avail. The man outweighed her by far too much for her to budge him.
He shook his head. “No. It is anything but fine. I betrayed you when I rescinded my proposal—”
“You proposed to her?” Lord Hawksmoor said, stepping forward. “Then rescinded it?”
“Hush, Thomas,” his wife, Madalene, whispered, pulling her husband back. “Let Lord Rothbury speak.”
“Yes, please,” Lord Huntsleigh said from somewhere out of Hen’s line of sight. “I can’t wait to hear how he gets himself out of this one.”
Alex let out a frustrated breath and scanned the crowd. “If I might continue?”
“By all means,” Mr. Bowen answered, rolling his hand in the air. “But I would suggest you make it good.”
Alex’s jaw twitched at the warning and he turned his attention back to her. “Perhaps you will never trust me again after such a horrid turnabout as the one I displayed. Certainly I do not deserve it, but a particular seven-year-old brought it to my attention that when you hurt someone, it is then incumbent upon you to make amends.”
“Margaret?”
“Indeed—”Alex leaned a bit closer and Hen found herself bending slightly toward him. He drew her in, even now, even after everything that had happened between them. He was the flame and she the moth. Perhaps she should stop herself but she was intimately familiar with fire and no longer feared what it could do. “It appears my daughter takes her counsel from a very admirable and reliable source.”
His daughter. Oh, what a wonder to hear him utter those words. Her heart swelled and she had to work to hold back her smile. “I see.”
“And so I have come here today to do just that. To make amends, preferably before your brother grabs the poker next to the hearth and skewers me with it.”
“And how is it you intend to make such amends, my lord?” Hen’s voice shook on the edges and Alex squeezed her hand in response as if to calm her, to give her strength. Such a small motion flooded her with warmth and she responded in kind.
“I have no right to ask for your forgiveness,” he said. “Nor do I have any hope that what I request of you will be granted, but please know that what I ask is based on nothing more than one man’s fear of living a life that you are not a part of.”
“Oh!”
Hen was unsure who made such an exclamation. Lady Huntsleigh, perhaps? Or Lady Rebecca? She did not dwell on such matters. Her mind was too busy wrapping itself around Alex’s words. Did he mean what she thought he meant? The hand he did not hold went to her belly where a nest of butterflies had been unleashed. She imagined them flitting around the babe they had created in all their happy, colorful glory and tears sprang to her eyes.
Oh dear, she was about to become a watering pot. Here. In front of everyone.
James stepped forward, his voice as stern as Hen had ever heard it, but at least he did not hold the poker in his hands where they were fisted at his sides. “Might you get to the point, Rothbury?”
Alex glanced at James then back to Hen, a mixture of hope and fear and determination whirling within his stormy gaze. “I am asking if you, Lady Henrietta, would do me the great honor of becoming my wife and allowing me to spend the rest of my life making amends for being so single-minded and stupid as to not realize that loving you was the most important thing of all. I am sorry. You will never know how much. Can you ever forgive me?”
Except that she already had. Weeks ago after the worst of the hurt eased enough to allow her to see the situation with a bit more clarity.
They had rushed into sharing intimacies, letting their hearts lead them before their heads had the chance to thoroughly examine the ramifications of their choices. She should have told him what the doctors believed and how that may affect his desire to do his duty, a duty he took most seriously. A duty he had once fulfilled only to have it snatched away, leaving him a broken man. But she hadn’t, because she had wanted what she wanted. Him.
And now he was offering himself to her, here in front of all those she loved, knowing full well she may not be able to give him what he needed. Except t
hat she could. A fact she wanted to shout loud enough to fill the room, but she couldn’t. Now may have been the time, but it certainly wasn’t the place. James was still within reach of the poker, after all.
“Hen?” Alex’s voice reminded her they were not alone and that she had yet to answer him.
“Yes,” she whispered, her answer freeing something within her, a heaviness that had weighed upon her this past month. “I forgive you.”
A smile broke out across Alex’s handsome face then abruptly fell away. “And the marrying part?”
She laughed, the lightness swelling in her heart. “Yes to the marrying part as well. I can think of no one I would rather spend my life with.”
Alex jumped to his feet and swept her into his arms and kissed her soundly, then spun her around, her feet far above the floor and her heart soaring into the sky. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his ear.
“You should likely put me down or you’ll make the babe dizzy from all the spinning,” she whispered.
His arms stiffened around her and he stopped abruptly, setting her gently upon the floor, a shocked look upon his face. She smiled and nodded, answering the unspoken question. And then she was in his arms once more, held against him with firm purpose telling her she had, once and for all, found a place to call home. A place where she belonged as she was, for who she was with a man she loved beyond all measure.
“I love you, my lord.”
“Not as much as I love you, my lady.”
“Do you think we might eat now? All this proposing has whet my appetite,” Lord Huntsleigh said. “And I am overcome with the need to rush home after the meal and sweep my lovely wife off her feet so she does not begin to think Lord Rothbury is the most romantic man in the room.”
The group laughed and bit by bit, they filed from the receiving room toward the dining hall, but Alex and Hen remained. As did James.
Alex turned to face her brother, his fingers laced through hers. The two men stared at one another, sizing each other up and having a silent conversation Hen could not hear, communicating in a way only old friends could do.
After along moment, James extended a hand. “Welcome to the family, brother.”
Alex took the extended hand and smirked. “Guess we’ll have to find you a bride next, hm?”
Hen laughed out loud at the expression of horror that crossed her brother’s face and hugged the two men who meant the world to her. Who had opened the door to that world and reminded her she was brave enough to step into it once more.
To live the life she had been given to the fullest.
Epilogue
“You’re certain then?”
Hen swatted at her husband, who hovered over the side of her bed where she lay prone and had for the past day simply due to the fact that she’d had a bout of dizziness that lasted all of ten seconds and was likely precipitated by the fact she’d stood up too fast after not having a hearty enough breakfast.
“Stop glaring at Dr. Wharton, Alex. Heavens, the man will never return and we still must deliver this lad,” she said, patting the growing bump that used to be her stomach.
Dr. Wharton, whom Alex had hired based on his reputation and expertise in difficult births, offered her husband an indulgent smile. Likely the poor man came across this kind of behavior from expectant fathers on a regular basis, though perhaps not too many of them were future dukes. “I am quite certain, my lord. Lady Rothbury is fit as a fiddle and I see no reason for that to change in the duration.”
“Should we relegate her to bed rest?”
“No!” Hen shouted the answer before the doctor could speak, though he chuckled and shook his head in agreement.
“No, indeed. I know many a doctor prefer to see women confined in such a manner, but I believe one does better if they keep up their strength and such can not be accomplished by languishing about in bed.”
“And her…” Alex motioned to the right side of his stomach.
“There appears to be no issue with the scars. A bit of tightness is to be expected, but if you continue applying the salve I have given you to keep the area supple, I expect there will be no problems to concern yourselves with. As I am certain her ladyship can tell you from firsthand experience, our bodies can be quite resilient and surprisingly adaptable.”
Alex visibly relaxed and, seeing this, so did Hen. She worried more about Alex’s state of mind during her pregnancy than she did about delivering the babe. Of that, she felt well prepared for. Determined even to see this thing through and to come out the other end with both of them in perfect health, albeit a bit battered from the experience. She had after all been prepared for the rigors of childbirth from tales told to her by Ladies Blackbourne and Huntsleigh, as well as Mrs. Bowen, who had recently been delivered of twins—a boy and a girl.
And while many aspects of their stories were similar, so were the diversities of their experiences.
Although one other thing remained the same—the men all experienced the same thing throughout the nine months. Trepidation and worry during the months leading up to delivery and then abject terror once the labor began. And nothing the women did to try and alleviate their fears was of any use, save bringing forth into the world a healthy babe—or babes in the case of Mrs. Bowen—would stop the men from worrying.
Dr. Wharton said his good-byes, instructed Hen to remain active and to eat a little more than she had been and cautioned Alex to not worry himself into a dither as women had been doing this kind of thing since the beginning of time and it was quite natural.
“I’m not sure how natural it is to spew a human out of one’s body,” Alex grumbled after the doctor closed the bedroom door behind him and gently lowered himself onto the bed next to her.
“It’s a boy, I am certain,” Hen said, hoping to distract her husband from his concerns.
Alex smiled, his first since her dizzy spell. “Margaret will be most disappointed.”
“She will adjust. I reminded her that Merlin was a boy and he wasn’t all bad.”
“Brilliant. I would have never thought to do that.” Alex slipped his hand through hers. “You will make a most wonderful mother, you know.”
“I’m not sure about that. As it turns out, Merlin is a girl.”
Alex turned his head toward her and laughter erupted, deep and hearty and filled with the relief of realizing that life in that moment was filled with all of the things a body could want—family and laughter and, most important of all, love. The kind of love that was strong enough to see one through the choppiest of seas and the harshest of storms and bring them into the sunlight once more.
As his laughter subsided, Hen squeezed his hand. “Are you certain your sister will not try to spread rumors about Margaret?” It was the only cloud on the horizon. Despite Lady Susan, now Lady Tarrington, being exiled north, Hen had difficulty believing the threat to be nullified.
“As certain as one can be. Father has put in place as many assurances as he can and made it known to her that should she utter one word against his granddaughter, she would be cut off from the family. Given Tarrington plans on leaving the entirety of his estate to his heir and providing her with but a small pittance of what she is used to speaking against Margaret would leave her all but destitute.”
“Unless she produces Lord Tarrington a son.”
“A fact I do not think will come about. You see, I have it upon good authority that Lord Tarrington’s difficulties in producing an heir was not the fault of any of his previous wives.”
Hen shifted her weight and leaned over onto her side as best she could. “You mean—?”
“I mean it is unlikely that my sister will ever become a mother, leaving her future well-being completely dependent upon her continued silence. So you may rest easy, my love.”
Hen leaned in and planted a gentle kiss upon her husband’s cheek. Her heart swelled for this man who had come so far to find his way out of the darkness and fear that had shrouded him and embrace l
ove and fatherhood once more. “I love you very much, Lord Rothbury.”
“And I, you, my love.”
Alex turned and captured her mouth with his in a kiss that caused fire to burn through her veins. A fire she had no desire to have doused.
Dear Readers,
Thank you so much for reading THE SWEETEST SIN, Book 7 in the Sins & Scandals Series. I have wanted to tell Lady Henrietta’s story since introducing her in SURRENDER TO SCANDAL but needed to find the perfect hero for her. I hope you agree Alexander St. John, future Duke of Franklyn, lives up to this role.
If this is your first introduction to the series, Book 1: AN INVITATION TO SCANDAL is currently FREE on all digital retailers. I hope you’ll check it out and discover where it all began! The series will have 10 books in total once completed. Here is a list of what’s currently available & what will be coming out in the near future:
#1 – AN INVITATION TO SCANDAL
#2 – A SCANDALOUS PASSION
#3 – A SINFUL TEMPTATION
#4 – THE LADY’S SINFUL SECRET
#5 – SURRENDER TO SCANDAL
#6 – A SINNER NO MORE
#7 – THE SWEETEST SIN
#8 – A MOST SCANDALOUS MISS (Dec 2016)
#9 – A HINT OF SCANDAL (Spring 2017)
#10 – SINS OF A SOLDIER (TBD)
To keep informed on new releases, check out my website book page, or sign up for my Newsletter at www.kellyboyce.com to keep abreast of breaking news and new releases!
I love to connect with my readers through social media and email and you can find all of my relevant links (Facebook Page, Twitter, Goodreads, Pinterest) on my website!
Lastly, in addition to my Regency series, I have also written several Western Historical romances set in the Old West and published by Carina Press (The Outlaw Bride) and Harlequin Historical (The Salvation Falls Series). These are listed on my website book page as well.
Again, thank you for reading THE SWEETEST SIN and I hope you will consider leaving a review at your favorite online retailer to help others discover The Sins & Scandals Series!
