The School for Brides

by Cheryl Ann Smith

  “It is so beautiful,” she breathed, awed. “I have never seen anything like this place.”

  Nicholas followed the path of her eyes. “Noelle told me of your interest in the abbey.”

  Eva tensed. It didn’t come as a surprise that Noelle was involved in this situation. She suspected the pair had shared secrets about her in an effort to get her before a priest. Her sister seemed to enjoy meddling where she shouldn’t.

  “My sister needs to stay out of my affairs.”

  “Was she mistaken?”

  Looking up to the high ceilings and around the expansive space, Eva reluctantly shook her head. “I do love this abbey. I’m so relieved the mad earl can no longer stain its beauty with his vile presence.”

  “Excellent,” Nicholas said, clearly satisfied by her admittance. He grinned. “I purchased it for you.”

  The shock on her face brought his laughter. “You what?”

  He stepped in front of her and took her hands. “It is my wedding gift to you, love. I offered the earl’s heir an outrageous sum he couldn’t refuse.”

  The room warmed, and her legs wobbled. He’d purchased the abbey for her as a gift? Overwhelmed with both love and exasperation, she had nothing to say.

  The man was incorrigible. No matter how many times she’d refused him, he wouldn’t give up. He wanted to marry her, to father their children, and to cherish her all the rest of her days. How could she not love him?

  Her heart soared, and she touched the side of his beloved face. If only she had the freedom to accept his suit!

  “I—” Her refusal was cut off by the sounds of footsteps above. She looked up and saw her mother and Nicholas’s mother on one of the balconies. The smiling pair looked down.

  “There you are, Evangeline darling, we’ve been waiting for you,” Mother said, her eyes dancing. “You should see my room, it is very pink. His Grace gave me a very large bedroom with its own sitting room overlooking the garden. And there is plenty of space for grandchildren.”

  The duchess nodded and winked at Eva. “Enough space for a full dozen babies and a huge nursery to hold them all.” She and Mother shared a knowing glance while Eva’s world took on a surreal quality. Mother and the duchess were here, together, planning for grandchildren?

  She turned her eyes to Nicholas. “I don’t understand. I left Mother this morning in London.” She was painfully confused. Pressure pulsed at her temples.

  Holding her hands firmly, Nicholas lowered himself to one knee and his face grew serious. “You have given up many things in your life to protect your mother from the ills of the outside world,” he said softly. “I knew the only way you would ever agree to marry me was if I found a way to assuage those fears.”

  Eva’s throat tightened, and she blinked several times.

  “I purchased this abbey for you as a refuge for Charlotte, so she can be cared for and secure, where the outside world cannot touch her. This will be our home, and when we visit London, we will stay at Collingwood House.” He paused. “What you decide to do with the Mayfair house is up to you. And don’t forget, Margaret and Harold are only a quarter of an hour away by coach.”

  Tears pricked her lashes as she gazed lovingly into his face. He was everything she had dreamed, and more; her handsome and arrogant duke. She looked up at the smiling faces of two mothers who wanted desperately to see their children happy. But there was business to finish first. She couldn’t accept him until they took care of a few final details.

  “Do you love me, Nicholas?”

  “I do.”

  “Will you forsake all courtesans and remain loyal and faithful to me for the rest of your life?”

  He grinned. “My town house has been sold. No more courtesans, mistresses, or lovers.”

  She narrowed her eyes and frowned. “I will not give up matching my courtesans. Though Sophie will take some of the burden and help me with the daily activities, I will still run the school as I see fit.”

  A grimace passed over his face. “I didn’t expect you would close the school.” He sighed quite dramatically. “If I have to write out a contract with all your stipulations to get you to say yes, so I can get up off my knee, I’ll do so gladly.” He locked onto her gaze. “Marry me, Evangeline Winfield.”

  She laugh-sobbed and nodded briskly. “I will marry you, Your Grace.” He rose to his feet and gathered her for a deep and searing kiss as her mother and the duchess cheered and clapped. Eva melted against him and knew she would cherish this moment forever. This man had overcome many obstacles for her, and she loved him with everything in her heart.

  When he finally lifted his head, he ran a finger over the curve of her lips. “I do love you, Eva, very much.”

  “And I love you.”

  They looked up at their mothers, who were crying through their smiles. Eva saw a light of hope in her mother’s face that she hadn’t seen in a long time. Perhaps thoughts of grandchildren would help ease some of the sadness in her broken heart.

  The duchess’s eyes widened, and she looked at Mother. “We have a wedding to plan, Charlotte.”

  “We do, Your Grace.” The two women hurried off, their excited chatter carrying throughout the three-story hall.

  Nicholas chuckled and returned his attention to Eva. He drew a finger down her cheek. Intense heat burned from him, and she knew where his thoughts were. They weren’t on a wedding, but a bedding; many, many future beddings.

  “I fear we’ll be still standing at the altar when our mothers will begin demanding grandchildren.” He leaned down to nuzzle the side of her neck, and she giggled. “It is the practicing I look forward to.”

  Eva sighed. “If we were alone, I would suggest we not wait to get started.” She slid her hands into his coat to clasp him around the waist, and pressed her hips enticingly against him. She felt him stir in his breeches.

  “I know a storage room off the kitchen with a dusty old table large enough for two,” he said mischievously and lifted his head. A slow smiled tugged her mouth, and her tongue made an appearance on her bottom lip. She ran her hands slowly over his buttocks and hips until he groaned and reached up to cup one breast. She felt her nipple tighten beneath the cloth. The room heated to an uncomfortable level.

  “I’ll race you,” she said, and bolted toward the kitchen with a bright laugh, the dark duke right on her heels.

  Epilogue

  One month later, Eva happily married Nicholas in a small and lovely ceremony in the tiny chapel on the grounds of Highland Abbey. She’d chosen the stone chapel for its simple beauty and because on these grounds her life had truly begun.

  Her former courtesans were in attendance; Rose with her husband, the Honorable Thomas Stanhope, a baron’s younger son; Yvette with her husband, Mister Reed; and Pauline with her husband, Mister Middleton, and possibly a baby on the way.

  Noelle and Margaret had helped Eva dress in her mother’s blue gown, with crystals in the sheer overlay to catch the light, and diamond pins in her hair. She looked like a princess. In the gown, she felt the love of her parents, and knew that somewhere her father was pleased.

  Harold sat with his new wife, and Noelle, and Yvette, as Eva and Nicholas pledged their love. Never in her life had Eva been happier as Nicholas made his vows. He was hers, forever.

  Never, she suspected, had two mothers ever been happier, either. The duchess and her mother had become fast friends, and Mother’s spells lessened with the excitement of planning Eva’s marriage.

  After their honeymoon, Eva and Nicholas stayed at Collingwood House to finish out the last few weeks of the Season and to introduce her to society. She’d been terrified.

  Speculation and gossip rocked the Ton over the surprise wedding, but with Nicholas at her side, and a few outlandish tales of love-at-first-sight spread by Noelle, Eva was soon the toast of society. They all kept Charlotte’s secret, and most of society accepted the long-lost-cousin tale while her mother lived quietly at Highland Abbey. Even Lady Penn couldn’t shake scandals ou
t of the tales, and reluctantly accepted Eva into her fold.

  “What about that one over there?”

  Eva shook off her thoughts as Margaret’s voice brought her into the present. She squinted and stared up.

  “I think I see a sheep,” Margaret said, pointing to a cloud with one hand as the other hand cupped the tiny bump growing beneath her day dress. The elder Lady Seymour had paid Harold generously for his scandalous information about highwaymen and ship wreckers he’d claimed were tied to Eva and Charlotte. She realized soon after that she’d been duped, and hied off to France to sequester herself from the betrayals of her ungrateful daughters.

  “It looks more like a rabbit to me,” Noelle said from her place on the other side of Eva. She closed one eye and frowned. “Look at those ears. It is a rabbit.”

  “I disagree, Noelle, it’s a sheep,” Eva said. “A sheep being chased by a cat with a mouse clamped in its jaws.”

  “A cat?” Noelle lifted her head and stared at Eva as if she’d been struck daft. “That is certainly not a cat or a mouse. I think that one is a naked baby with a rattle in his hand.”

  Eva pushed onto her elbows and grimaced. “Where did you say Lady Pennington was today?” She looked around for signs of the dragon lady. They were, thankfully, alone.

  When Noelle suggested a surprise visit to Lady Pennington, Eva wanted to refuse. But Noelle insisted it would firm up Eva’s relationship with the popular, and feared, society matron. Eva was relieved to find her not at home.

  “She apparently has gone off to dine with Lord and Lady Sherbrook,” Margaret said. Noelle peered at Eva’s concerned face and added, “Don’t worry; by the time she returns, we will be gone.”

  Gone, leaving behind the lingering gossip from her servants about three women lying on their backs in her foyer looking up at her cloud-covered ceiling.

  “Perhaps we should make a wish,” Margaret said, flopping gently back on the polished marble. She had a happy flush on her cheeks. Impending parenthood had brought immense joy to her and Harold. “You only make wishes on stars, sister dear,” Noelle countered. “I see no stars.”

  “I think a wish is a grand idea, and I’ll start,” Eva interrupted before her sisters began another of their frequent squabbles. She adored the impossible pair more every day. The elder Lady Seymour had done two things right in her life, and the two women were it. “Since Margaret and I found husbands and happiness, I wish for the same for Noelle.”

  “Hear, hear!” Margaret interjected with a nod. “I, too, wish for a husband for Noelle. He has to be strong man who will keep her out of mischief and has to have a big bulge in his breeches to keep her blissfully content.”

  Eva and Margaret laughed as Noelle gasped at the shocking comment.

  “I don’t need a husband, or anything else he might possess,” Noelle huffed. “I plan to grow old and dusty and firmly settled on the shelf.”

  “I think I know a perfect suitor for her,” Eva said, ignoring Noelle’s protest. “He is wealthy and titled. Nicholas introduced us at Lady Dunleavy’s party. He is a bit short and stout and spittles lightly when he talks. But he is a gentleman and has a wonderful braying laugh.”

  “I think I know him,” Margaret added, her face turning serious. “He is called the Toothless Lord; homely but quite charming in his hunchbacked way.”

  “You two are not amusing in the least,” Noelle grumbled, refusing to meet their eyes. Her scowl deepened as laughter echoed through Pennington Manor.

  Read on for a special preview of the next historical romance from Cheryl Ann Smith

  The Accidental Courtesan

  Coming soon from Berkley Sensation!

  Chapter One

  Lady Noelle Seymour wobbled slightly on the trellis and bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out. Two stories up, the redbrick town house appeared much taller now than when she’d decided to go through with this ill-conceived plan and had slipped across the lawn and into the shadows of the building like a sneak thief. Still, the intrigue of having a grand adventure had caused her to lose any final hesitation as she donned a pair of rolled-up borrowed black trousers and a matching shirt and set off for the Mayfair town house of the Earl of Seabrook.

  She weaved her hands between the scratchy climbing vines and gripped the trellis in a vise grip. If her sister, Her Grace, knew what she was doing this evening, she’d have her head handed back to her on a platter.

  Yet she forced herself onward. She couldn’t help herself. Prickles of excitement twisted through her. She was no longer a proper lady from a good family, but an adventuress without the encumbrance of society’s rules and restrictions. For this night, anyway, and she’d not let fear and common sense ruin her outrageous adventure.

  Tomorrow she’d be tucked back in her corsets and stockings with no one the wiser. Prim, if not quite proper, Lady Noelle.

  Tentatively, Noelle reached a toe toward the window ledge, her heart pounding loudly in her ears. Once her foot found a firm place, she let loose with one hand and clutched the windowsill in a death grip. If she fell, it would be more than bones or possible death that faced her. If she were discovered breaking into the married Seabrook’s house in the middle of the night and dressed like a boy, the scandal would ruin her forever in the eyes of the Ton.

  Mother would bury her so deep in the country, she’d shrivel up, dry and crackled, like a neglected daisy desperately deprived of water and sunlight.

  Noelle grimaced and brushed a leafy twig away from her chin with her gloved hand.

  Death was preferable to the shame of being sent off in exile. If she plummeted to the ground, she’d pray it was headfirst and instantly fatal.

  “Almost there,” she muttered for courage, and she slid her foot across the narrow stone ledge. Stubborn determination to see the plan through kept her going on. Ever so slowly, she eased her body to the right, skimming her belly against the brick, thankful the town house was blessedly quiet.

  The earl was in Bath with his wife, according to gossip. This gave Noelle enough time to return the stolen necklace and save Bliss from prison or, worse yet, hanging.

  Beautiful Bliss. The girl had the sense of a donkey.

  Noelle smiled wryly. Clearly, at this moment, both were superior to her in intelligence. Neither courtesan nor donkey was about to commit a crime that might well land her into Bliss’s adjoining cell at the horrible Newgate Prison.

  Still, it was too late for regrets. She was almost there; the darkened window loomed in her sights. In a few minutes the item would be safely returned and she’d be on her way home.

  Gingerly, she leaned on her right foot to test the worthiness of the ledge and reached for the window. She said a brief whispered prayer, flattened her palms on the painted wood frame, and pushed the window up. Relief flooded through her as the pane opened easily with only a slight scraping sound.

  She’d not have to fumble along the ledge for a second or third unlocked window. Clearly, His Lordship didn’t expect anyone to make such a perilous climb to steal his valuables.

  With diligence and extreme quiet, she first poked her head in to make sure the room was empty, then stepped gingerly inside. In the blackness, she heard nothing to cause her alarm. No snoring, no shifting of a body on a bed. The space was blessedly quiet, and she pulled in a deep, soothing breath to loosen the tightness in her chest.

  According to Bliss, either this room or the one next to it belonged to the earl. The girl wasn’t certain which, as her attention had been otherwise occupied during her brief visit with the amorous attentions of the earl. Though he kept a separate and smaller town house for his courtesans, some months ago, on a lark, he’d smugly snuck Bliss in when his wife was away enjoying the soothing waters of Bath.

  Carefully and with outstretched arms, Noelle walked around the room, searching for the bed and the blue coverlet that would assure her she was in the right room. If she was to return the necklace, and lead the earl to believe it was only misplaced and not stolen by his f
ormer courtesan, she had to put it in a place where he could easily “discover” it as soon as he returned.

  A task that turned out easier said than accomplished.

  The blasted room was too dark! Not even the moon offered its cooperation by remaining well hidden behind the blanketing storm clouds. Lightning would certainly help, yet it had also failed to make an expected appearance.

  Luckily, it took very little time to find the massive bed and less time to discover the coverlet was indeed dark blue, or black, or even a deep green. She squelched an explosive sigh and lifted the fabric to her nose to squint at it close up. She was fairly certain that it was green.

  Blast! With no time to linger, Noelle dropped the coverlet and fumbled her way blindly across the room. With outstretched hands, she felt around for a door, then eased it open. Once in the dark hallway she turned right and followed the wall to the next room. She closed her hand around the handle and twisted. The panel creaked softly when she pushed it open, and she froze.

  When no alarm sounded, she rushed inside and softly clicked the door closed behind her. The space was even blacker than the first room. Perhaps she should have waited until a cloudless night of a full moon before venturing out.

  “You can do this, Noelle,” she whispered. “Find the bed, make sure this is the right room, and get out.”

  She stumbled around the room, arms swinging in wide sweeps. Eventually, she knocked into a small table and beside it found the bed. Sheer luck kept her from upending a lamp. She leaned to squint at the coverlet.

  Was it blue? Frustration mounted. She’d have to drag it over to the window and pray for a slip of moonlight to know for certain. Remaking the bed afterward would also be difficult in the dark. The maids would be suspicious if they found the bed in disarray and would report the incident to the earl. If the Bow Street Runners got involved, she could be in serious trouble.

  In a case like this, desperate measures were required. She’d worry about the bed once the necklace was returned.