Margaret nodded. “I felt the same way when my best friend married Lord Rauley after speaking with him only when they were in public. Her parents did not approve of the match, so he could not call on her,” she explained. “They eloped two weeks after they first met, and they are the happiest couple I know, barring myself and Thomas.”
“I am impressed,” Thomas whispered.
“I am determined to make a good impression, and my paltry fear of conversing with men I do not know is nothing compared to the fear of losing you,” she replied. “I love you.”
“Marry her.”
Thomas glanced up in surprise.
Neill shrugged. “I do not know how I know this, but she suits you.”
“I think it has something to do with how he carries himself while he is with her,” Lord Ravenwood mused. “His posture is better than it was in Scotland.”
“It is his smile,” Riona put in. “That little smile on his face when he holds her hand tells me that he is happy and in love, and that is all we have ever wanted for him.”
“I have not stopped smiling since I accepted that it was love and not madness,” Thomas admitted, squeezing Margaret’s hand. “You have been smiling a lot as well.”
“Perhaps it is catching,” she teased. “Some infectious Scottish disease.”
Thomas laughed and stooped over to kiss her nose, not caring that they were in the middle of Lady Beatrice’s ballroom, with half the ton watching them. He had a lifetime to worship her, but he had no desire to wait now that his course was set. He had acquired a special license as soon as Margaret agreed to become his wife and he had spoken with Lord Nettlby about the details. Lady Cecelia Rauley had spent every moment she had with Margaret planning the inevitable wedding, and Thomas suddenly realized that, if he asked her, Margaret would agree to marry him that night. She deserved a proper wedding, but he had an understanding with the rector of St. George’s, and a proper wedding could be held the next morning.
“Shall we marry tomorrow morning?”
“Can you do that?” his mother queried. “Do you not need to make arrangements, and announcements?”
“I have already procured a special license and made arrangements at St. George’s, and the only people Margaret and I wanted to invite are already aware of our intentions,” he said, battling back his enthusiasm. “I believe Lady Rauley has everything else in order.”
“Who, dear?”
“Me.” Cecelia appeared on her husband’s arm, beaming at the Ravenwoods as if they were already her family as well. “I am Margaret’s best friend, Lady Cecelia Rauley, and this is my husband, Lord Rauley.”
“And can a marriage take place in the morning?”
Cecelia nodded primly. “As soon as I saw you being introduced I sent word to our cook to be ready for a wedding tomorrow.”
“Their cook is excellent,” Margaret added. “I already know what dress I shall wear.”
“The blue and gold?” Thomas asked hopefully.
She pursed her lips and kept her expression innocent. “I refuse to tell you.”
“Are you certain you wish to be married so soon? I know you are in love, but…this means you will be going to Scotland,” Lord Nettlby finished sadly.
“The sooner I go to Scotland, the sooner you can come up and visit me,” Margaret pointed out.
“Not immediately, of course,” Thomas added. “We might take visitors in three or four months time.”
“So soon?” Lord Rauley teased. “Just yesterday you said five.”
Thomas would gladly take a year, but refrained from rising to his friend’s challenge. However…
“Lord Nettlby, would you care to explain to my parents what we discussed? I would like a word with my fiancée, the Rauleys, and Neill.”
He steered Margaret towards the balcony doors, not bothering to see if the others were following him or not. If he had to give Margaret a proper wedding in the morning, he would give himself a proper Scottish handfast immediately.
“What is this about?” Lady Rauley demanded as they hurried past the few milling about in Lady Beatrice’s garden.
Thomas did not respond until he found a suitably empty location, nestled amongst some of Lady Beatrice’s finest summer roses. He bent and gave Margaret a brief kiss before announcing, “You are gathered here to witness our handfast.”
The Rauleys looked confused, but Neill grinned in sudden understanding.
“Aye,” he agreed. “You’ll not want to remain in London after tomorrow morning, and she deserves better than an inn.”
“As long as my beautiful fiancée does not mind,” Thomas added, turning to Margaret and clasping both her hands against his chest.
Her cheeks were a soft pink in the moonlight, but her smile was wry. “I do not mind, but we are not leaving Lady Beatrice’s party alone together,” she insisted. “I’m not that daring.”
Chapter Five
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“Thomas!” Margaret gasped as her dress slipped off her shoulders. “We are on our way to our reception; there isn’t time,” she hissed, her cheeks a fiery red.
“It was hard enough keeping my hands off you during the ceremony,” Thomas grumbled, his lips against her neck and his fingers against her spine. “I know I will not make it through a long breakfast.”
“Maybe we should not have handfasted and…”
“Do you regret it?” he asked seriously, pulling away to study her.
“No,” she admitted, “I would never regret it. But it is very difficult to be near you and not want you, and it is all your fault.”
He sighed in relief, drawing her into his arms once more. “Then let me apologize by taking you to Scotland, immediately.”
“What about saying goodbye to my father, and the Rauleys? Should we not at least make an appearance?”
“Can you wait a month? They can come stay with us in a month if we go on to Scotland now,” he offered.
“What happened to three months? Am I not…good enough?” Her cheeks burned a little brighter.
“Oh, Margaret.” He captured her lips with his and shifted so that he could sneak a hand under the hem of her dress. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me,” he whispered, lips lingering against hers. “I am the happiest man in the world, just knowing that you are mine and no one else’s.”
“And I the happiest woman,” she murmured. “But I do think we should at least make an appearance. Five minutes,” she insisted when he grumbled and tried to kiss her again. “Five minutes, and then we can go to Scotland. My father will not be happy if I do not say goodbye to him, even if he will see me again in a month.”
“Three months,” Thomas corrected, grudgingly pulling away. “Possibly more if it takes longer than five minutes to say goodbye.”
Lord Nettlby waved again, though he knew his daughter did not see him. He was surprised that she was so anxious to remove herself from London, but he was also grateful that she had at least told him that she and her husband were leaving immediately for Scotland. Even the Ravenwoods were surprised by their hasty departure.
“We will make sure the lovebirds return to London every summer,” Lord Ravenwood assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder and steering him back into the house. “Margaret has friends here, and Thomas does as well,” he added, nodding towards the Rauleys. “Last night you said something about her having an estate, but I must admit to being too shocked by the prospect of my son getting married to have comprehended your words.”
“An estate in Bedfordshire,” Lady Ravenwood reminded her husband, latching on to his arm.
Lord Nettlby nodded. “She loves that estate, and I knew that her cousin would receive it if I didn’t make it part of her dowry. This morning she assured me she would set it up as a summer residence; she has been planning a rose maze, and wants to start on it as soon as she can.”
“She will love Briarwood Castle,” the marchioness murmured. “There are roses wild everywhere. I would be afrai
d that she will see Briarwood and never wish to leave, but the castle is not conducive to hosting friends and family.”
“The east tower fell off last year.” The marquis chuckled. “Thomas and I agreed that there wasn’t much point in putting it back up again, since it was always used for little more than storage. It seems as if the castle shrinks with each generation that lives there.”
“It was small when we lived there,” his wife agreed. “Anything hosted in Scotland will be at Ravenwood. It is larger and far more comfortable.”
Lady Rauley approached, towing her husband behind her, and urged them towards a side table laden with food, tea, and coffee. “Just because the bride and groom decided to run off does not mean we cannot enjoy a good breakfast,” she insisted.
“And we cannot let Cecelia go without a meal,” Lord Rauley teased. “She is eating for two.”
Lord Nettlby suddenly turned pale. “Good lord, I’ll be a grandfather soon enough.”
Lady Ravenwood grinned but her husband also turned a little pale.
“Oh, come, it will be wonderful to have grandchildren. Just think of how much trouble they will get into. Perhaps this is our chance to have revenge against Thomas for being such a rambunctious child. All the lost nights of sleep, the mysterious scrapes and bruises—”
“There is no need to be so vindictive,” Lord Ravenwood managed, raising his eyebrows at his wife. “Thomas was not that dreadful.”
“He and Neill disappeared for two weeks,” she replied tartly. “They could have died. I still do not know where they went.”
Neill, who was quietly drinking a cup of coffee, offered her a faint smile. “We went on an adventure. Thomas and I wanted to see the glen.”
The marchioness gaped at him. “You boys went all the way to the glen without an adult?”
He shrugged innocently. “We had a map and plenty of food; it is not as if we ran off without a plan.”
“Twelve-year-olds planning out a Highland adventure?” Lord Ravenwood shook his head in astonishment. “I wish I could see that as a sign of intelligence.”
“And I let him marry my daughter,” Lord Nettlby groaned. “What does that make me?”
A
Preview of Upcoming Projects:
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Romances as Ashley Stormes:
What happened to Lt. White of the --- cavalry? Did he ever manage to win the hand of Lady Felicity Ryans, and free himself from his older brother’s gambling debts?
What happened to Kvas and Nadezhda? Did they ever marry? Did Alexei ever prove himself useful?
What happened to Isabel (Tygre)? Did she ever find love, or was her past too much of a burden?
What happened to Malcolm MacEwan and Margaret Halivee? Did he recover from being an alcoholic? Did she recover from lost love?
If you have ever asked one or all of the above questions, you will want to read
After the Masquerade
a collection of short stories and novellas concerning the characters that never got to dance in Lady Rauley’s ballroom.
Speaking of Lady Rauley’s ballroom…make sure you read
The Masquerade Series
The Masquerade
A Mask of Black Satin
A Tartan Mask
Mask of the Tiger
The Widow’s Mask
But what about the Rakes?
Mlle Gabrielle Bouchard may not be a professional agent of the French monarchy, but she has proven herself a useful ally to Britain’s War Office. When she comes to London for the Season of 1816, she is thrilled to be hosted by Lady Catherine Lyons and her husband, a former British agent. One of Catherine’s older brothers, Mr. Frederick Burnel, comes by regularly to see his sister and learn from his brother-in-law. Gabrielle quickly discovers that Frederick is working for the War Office, and in doing so she starts a series of events that not only exposes Frederick’s darkest secrets but also puts her own life in danger.
Mr. Nicholas Halivee retreats to his family’s Nottinghamshire estate to check on his inheritance, thinking to enjoy the solitude and catch up on his sleep. Keeping up with three sisters has been exhausting, and seeing them constantly flirting has him questioning his own life. He enjoyed his brief tenure as a London rake, but he was never successful at finding the right woman for his future. When he stumbles upon a curious young woman dangling her toes in the pond at the edge of his property, he realizes that love doesn’t always come at first sight.
Mr. Andrew Fenna is now a successful partner in MacEwan’s Whisky, a distillery based in Glasgow, Scotland. The Welsh native has no intention of letting love interfere with work, but intentions mean nothing to the heart….
Keep up with the latest release dates by following me on Facebook!
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About the Author
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Ashley Stormes is a Summa Cum Laude history graduate of The University of Texas at Tyler. She has pursued her dream of becoming a published author ever since second grade when she received a “principle’s pride” sticker for a tale about escaping zoo animals. When not writing, she can be found singing, crocheting, travelling, and drinking hot tea. Ashley lives in Texas with her family and three persnickety cats.
You can email her at:
[email protected]
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Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Preview
About the Author
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Dancing with the Earl (After the Masquerade) Page 4
