Derek put up a hand to stop him. “Wait. Hear me out. I know it wounds your pride to think of accepting it. But consider this. The money would just be sitting in a bank doing nothing. You might as well take it and do something worthwhile with it. Besides, you could save three lives in the process.”
Adam’s gut churned. He could use the money, but there was no way in hell he was going to accept charity from his brother.
“If it makes you feel any better,” Derek continued, “you can pay me back the initial investment when you’re ready.”
Adam’s head snapped up. “Pay you back?”
“It’s only a suggestion. Don’t get your back up.”
“No, no.” Adam lifted his mug and set it down again with a thud. “I like that idea. I like it quite a lot.” He silently contemplated the matter for a moment. “I would insist upon paying you interest, however.”
Derek snorted. “Damn it, you stubborn ass. I’m not taking interest from you.”
“Yes, you are, or I won’t accept it.”
Derek shook his head. “I know Lucy will have my hide if I refuse you, but we’ll discuss it more later.” Derek finished his ale, stood, and pushed his chair aside. “I’ll see you back at the house?”
Adam nodded. The possibilities of using the money and paying it back raced through his mind. He could barely think straight. Damn it. The last three weeks had been hell. As hard as he’d tried, he’d been unable to get Cecelia out of his thoughts. One thing she’d said in the coach that last day haunted him. “I wanted to be with someone I cared about,” she’d said. Could that possibly mean that she didn’t care about this Percy, whoever he was? Adam had to at least try to find out.
His brother hadn’t been gone more than five minutes before he, too, stood and hurried to the door, where he collected his hat. First, he needed an appointment … with Mr. Cornwall.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The carriage jostled to a halt in front of the Harcourt town house on Downing Square. Adam barely allowed it to make a complete stop. Not waiting for the footman, he threw down the stairs and jumped to the dirt road, then sprinted up to the front door, his breath coming in rapid pants. After yesterday’s revelation at the Curious Goat, this morning he’d signed a contract with Mr. Cornwall to be his partner in a new printing venture. Adam would put up the money for riskier stories, stories like Cece’s, and his sister-in-law was going to be the head of sales, though she might not know it yet. Now it was time to tell Cecelia.
His insistent knock was answered not by a butler or any servant but by Mary Harcourt. “Mary, it’s good to see you. Where is your sister?” he asked in a rush.
Mary’s face was pale, and she looked as if she’d been crying. “Oh, Mr. Hunt. She’s at the church getting married to Cousin Percy.”
“Cousin Percy?” Adam felt the blood drain from his face.
Mary nodded. “Yes.”
“Today?”
“Yes. They only want her dowry of course, but after she couldn’t sell her book she had little choice. She’s doing it for me, Mr. Hunt. She’s never said so, but I know she is. I needed medicine and—” The little girl broke off into another round of sobs and a coughing fit.
“Didn’t you receive the medicine I sent?”
Mary looked abashed. “Aunt Selene refused it. She said we weren’t about to accept charity from the likes of a … haughty duke and his brother.”
Adam wanted to wring Aunt Selene’s neck but instead he reached out and patted the girl’s shoulder. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to her. He’d deal with Aunt Selene later. “What church is it? And when?”
“St. George’s. At ten o’clock.” Mary dabbed at her eyes, eyes that were suddenly filled with hope.
Adam fumbled in his pocket for his watch and glared at the thing.
“What time is it?” Mary sniffed.
“Nearly ten.” He turned back and sprinted down the steps.
“Are you going to stop the wedding, Mr. Hunt?” Mary called after him, her voice bright.
“If I can!” he called back.
Mary picked up her skirts. “Wait for me!”
* * *
Cecelia bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood. She stood at the altar with Cousin Percy at her side, the vicar having just begun their wedding ceremony. This wasn’t going to be easy, but she refused to either cry or make a scene. Many people had much worse lots in life. She was no different. She would have to just do her best and take solace in the fact that she would ensure that her sister made a proper come-out one day and married for love, just like Lady Magnolia.
She pressed her lips together. Lady Magnolia and the duke. She would never know what it was like to actually be a beloved bride marrying a beloved husband, but thanks to Adam Hunt, she’d at least had a taste of what it was like to be truly desired. Truly wanted. The worst part was that try as she might to get the entire debacle out of her mind, she couldn’t. She couldn’t forget the way he’d made her feel, if only for a few short days. He’d made her feel like a lady. He’d made her feel passion. He’d made her feel … love? Dare she think it? She had fallen in love with Adam, despite having just met him. But she didn’t blame him for being angry with her for lying to him. She hadn’t told him she was engaged and she hadn’t told him she loved him. What else was he left to think? It was better this way. She could never explain to him why she’d done what she’d done. How did you tell someone you’d wanted to pretend you were a heroine in a novel for just one more night? It was silly. It was stupid. It was unforgivable. But for one night, just that one night, she had been Lady Magnolia and he’d been her duke. He’d told her once he was no hero, but he’d been wrong. He was a hero. He was her hero. And she would never forget him.
“Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife?” the vicar droned. Cecelia kept her chin up and faced forward. She’d promised herself not to so much as glance over at Cousin Percy; the saliva on his bottom lip always made her feel ill.
A large crack echoed through the church as the doors at the back of the building were slammed open. Cecelia spun around, but the sun obscured her view. She raised the measly clump of half-dead flowers that Aunt Selene had pressed into her hand a moment before the ceremony began in front of her eyes to block the sun. Was that … Mary? Her sister had stayed home because of her cough and because Uncle Herbert was tired of hearing her cry all morning.
“Cecelia!” Mary cried, confirming the girl’s identity. But who was with her?
Cece’s gaze darted to the other, much taller figure racing down the center aisle. It was … Adam Hunt? No. It couldn’t be. Her eyes were playing a trick on her. Her imagination was running amok.
“Cecelia,” he called, and Cecelia’s flowers dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers.
“Stop the wedding!” Mary called. “Mr. Hunt has something he wants to say to you.”
Cecelia didn’t need to hear any more. She picked up her skirts and nearly ran down the few steps from the altar, then down the aisle. Adam met her in the middle and grabbed her and spun her into his arms. He kissed her fiercely.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered, breathlessly. “I hope it’s what I think you’re doing here.”
Mary beamed at her side.
“What is the meaning of this?” Uncle Herbert’s voice thundered through the church. He pushed himself to his feet from his spot in the first row. The vicar glanced around, looking both embarrassed and confused. Percy dabbed at his bulbous lower lip but remained silent, and Aunt Selene stood up from her own spot in the front row and turned to glare menacingly at Cece.
Adam ignored all of them. He set Cecelia down and took both her hands. “I’m here to ask you if you’ll allow me to publish your novel,” he explained. “I came to an agreement with Mr. Cornwall. I’m going to be his partner and yours is the first story I intend to publish.”
Cece’s face fell slightly but she nodded. “Yes, of course. Well, we’ll have to agree to t
he terms, but yes, yes, I’d love for you to publish my novel, Adam.”
Mary’s smile widened. She elbowed Adam. “And…?” she prodded. “The much better part, I might add.”
Adam cleared his throat. He looked almost boyish, one dark curl falling over his forehead. “And on the ride over here, your sister explained to me that your marriage isn’t exactly one you wanted. Forgive me for not asking you more questions, Cecelia. I didn’t know.”
“No, Adam, no. I should have explained it to you. Only I felt as if you’d done so much for me already and I had no right to ask more of you by hearing about my troubles.”
“It doesn’t matter. Now that I know, and now that that we’ve got the business part out of the way, there’s something else I want to ask you.”
Cece held her breath. “Yes?”
Adam fell to one knee. “Will you marry me, Miss Cecelia Harcourt?”
Cece fell to her knees, too, and kissed him. “Yes, Mr. Adam Hunt. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Aunt Selene stomped over and wrenched Cece up by the arm. “Have you lost your mind? You’re in the middle of a wedding to your cousin.”
“Yes, and thank goodness it didn’t finish,” Mary said, giving her aunt a spirited nod.
“I’ll thank you to keep your mouth shut, young lady,” Aunt Selene said, pointing a crooked finger at the girl.
Adam stood and pulled Cece up beside him. He addressed his words to Uncle Herbert, who was making his way as quickly as his size would allow down the aisle to join the melee. “How much do you want for the house?”
“The house?” Uncle Herbert’s jowls shook, and he clutched at his lapels. “What in heaven’s name do you mean?”
“The house you’re living in. Your late sister and brother-in-law’s house? I understand it’s for sale. How much do you want for it?”
“You’re mad!” Uncle Herbert responded.
“Send a bill around to the Duke of Claringdon’s house this afternoon. I’ll ensure you have a bank draft by the end of the day. And don’t even think of overcharging me. I know what the house is worth, and it seems to me that now that you’re losing out on your niece’s dowry, you’ll need every penny you can get. Oh, and I’ve spoken with Viscount Harewood. He sees no reason why I should not be named Mary’s guardian as soon as my wedding to Cecelia has taken place. In the meantime, he’s appointed my brother as her guardian. You need see to her no longer.”
Herbert glared at him, but the look in his eye told Cece that he understood the truth behind Adam’s words. “Fine. You can take the sick little brat. Let’s go, Percy!” he called.
Percy lumbered off the altar to follow his indignant parents. “Those fools in the carriage shouldn’t have missed you!” he sneered as he passed Cece.
“What did you say?” Cece spun around and stared at her cousin in horror.
Percy’s beady eyes glittered with hate. “I said those fools shouldn’t have missed you. I paid them a pretty penny to get rid of you, but they were so stupid they did it on the wrong date. The fifteenth of August, I told ’em. Not the fifteenth of July!”
“You were responsible for that coach hitting me?” Cece still couldn’t believe the words.
“You don’t think I wanted to actually be married to you, did you? If it had gone as planned, you’d be dead after the wedding, however. Not before. And we’d have your stupid dowry.”
“Shut your mouth, Percy,” Aunt Selene thundered in an ominous voice.
Adam turned around and punched Percy in the face so hard, the huge man stumbled backward and fell. He laid on the floor, clutching his bleeding mouth and sobbing.
Adam’s shirt had come out of his breeches, he was breathing heavily, and he had a murderous look in his eye. He stood over Percy and clenched his teeth as he spoke. “By God, if you ever come around my wife or my family again, I’ll kill you myself, you vermin. Do you understand?”
Percy scrambled to his feet, still bleeding and crying. Now his nose was running, too. “Yes. Yes. Yes,” he repeated in a high-pitched squeal as he turned and lumbered away.
As the three left the church, Percy could be heard muttering, “We’re still having the breakfast, aren’t we?”
Adam turned back to Cece. “I took the liberty of asking my brother to procure a special license from the archbishop. We can be married tomorrow if you’ll have me.”
Cece squeezed his hand. “Of course I’ll have you, Adam. Of course I will.”
“And I’ve already assured your sister that she’ll live with us. Your aunt and uncle can use the funds they receive in sale of the property to live elsewhere.”
Mary beamed. “Oh, I’m so glad. But what about Esme? You don’t mind rabbits, do you, Mr. Hunt?”
“Not at all,” Adam said to Mary before catching Cece’s gaze and recognizing the tears that welled in her dark eyes. He stopped and searched her face. “What’s wrong, Cecelia? You remember me, don’t you? Please tell me you remember.”
Cece wiped away her tears. “Of course I remember you, my darling, and I’ll never forget again. You’re my unforgettable hero.”
Don’t miss the next Playful Brides novel from
Valerie Bowman
“Sexy, satisfying romance.”—Kirkus Reviews
THE UNTAMED EARL
Available in May 2016 from St. Martin’s Paperbacks
Author’s Note
Thank you for reading The Unforgettable Hero.
I hope you enjoyed Cecelia and Adam’s story.
I’d love to keep in touch.
• Visit my website for information about upcoming books, excerpts, and to sign up for my email newsletter: www.ValerieBowmanBooks.com.
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• Reviews help other readers find books. I appreciate all reviews, whether positive or negative. Thank you so much for considering it!
About the Author
Valerie Bowman grew up in Illinois with six sisters (she’s number seven) and a huge supply of historical romance novels. After a cold and snowy stint earning a degree in English with a minor in history at Smith College, she moved to Florida the first chance she got. Valerie now lives in Jacksonville with her family including her rascally dog, Roo. When she’s not writing, she keeps busy reading, traveling, or vacillating between watching crazy reality TV and PBS. Valerie loves to hear from readers. Find her on Facebook, Twitter, and at www.ValerieBowmanBooks.com. Or sign up for email updates here.
Also by Valerie Bowman
The Playful Brides
THE UNLIKELY LADY
THE ACCIDENTAL COUNTESS
The UNEXPECTED DUCHESS
The Secret Brides
SECRETS OF A SCANDALOUS MARRIAGE
SECRETS OF A RUNAWAY BRIDE
SECRETS OF A WEDDING NIGHT
Novellas
A SECRET PROPOSAL
A SECRET AFFAIR
IT HAPPENED UNDER THE MISTLETOE
Anthology
CHRISTMAS BRIDES
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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
“The Unforgettable Hero” copyright © 2016 by June Third Enterprises, LLC.
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eISBN 9781466884427
First eBook Edition: February 2016
Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Author’s Note
About the Author
Also by Valerie Bowman
Copyright
The Unforgettable Hero Page 9
