“Don’t try to placate me. Just tell me you won’t leave me destitute, whatever you intend.” A tear slid down her cheek.
“Destitute?” He’d laugh if it didn’t seem so serious. “I intend to fill your belly with my child and then stuff your mouth with anything you wish to eat and wrap your body in whatever you’d like to wear and then build you the home you’ve always dreamed of living in.”
Her eyes blinked several times before she choked out. “You’re not finished with me?”
“Finished?” How could she even think that? “Tabbie, we’ve barely begun.”
“Then why are we going to London? That is the place for you to be a rake.”
And then he understood. All those times she’d tensed when they had discussed London. “We can live anywhere in the world you wish, including London. I’ll never be that man again. The geography is irrelevant. I need more than just physical pleasure, my moon goddess. I need your love.” He kissed her long and hard. “And I thought you needed your family. It was my intention that we try to make amends with them before we settle in the country.”
Two more tears slipped down her cheeks before she buried her face again. “I’m such a fool. An impulsive, silly fool.”
He shushed her tears, “You’ve every right to be suspicious of me. It will take time but I’ll prove my devotion to you.”
“Did I hurt you?” She choked again as her head came up.
“No love, though if any woman could, it would be you.” He snuggled her closer. “Get some rest.”
Chapter 9
Three days had passed since their wedding and Luke now sat in the parlor awaiting an audience with the Duke of Waverly.
His father-in-law was keeping him waiting.
Tabbie had left to speak with the duchess. They had discussed it and Tabbie was sure her mother was the answer if her father refused to accept the marriage. He grinned. It was yet another of their schemes.
Merciful heaven, he loved that woman. She was glorious as she came up with a tactical plan. And he was glad they had come back to London, even if her father refused to acknowledge the marriage. She needed to see that they could thrive here. Not for his sake but for hers. He knew she would want to continue her work helping women and children, and London was the best place for her to do it. He didn’t hold quite the same say as her father did, but he’d be able use his seat on the parliament to further her agenda.
Nothing would make him happier.
Other than her. She made him gloriously happy.
The butler finally appeared. “His Grace will see you now.”
Standing, he walked confidently into the library, which seemed to be the duke’s preferred place to work.
The other man stood from his desk but gave no other acknowledgement that Luke had entered.
Luke knew some groveling was going to be in order. “Your Grace.”
“Sussex,” the man barely mumbled.
Luke looked around. “May I ask you a question?”
The man gave a tiny nod.
“Why work in the library? I’m sure you have your choice of rooms.” Luke watched as the duke’s eyes opened wide in surprise.
“It holds most of the reference materials I need.” The Duke cleared his throat looking away.
Just then, a door opened to the left and Tricia appeared. Her eyes also went wide at the sight of him. “Forgive me, Papa,” she murmured as she backed out of the room.
Luke grinned. “You don’t work in the library because your family enters and exits often?”
The duke cleared his throat. “What is your point?”
“She misses you already. And she’s torn up with worry that she won’t have a relationship with you.”
He saw the duke’s face spasm in pain. The man was a horse’s ass about having every detail go his way, but he clearly loved his daughter. “She should have thought of that before she eloped.”
“She did. But Crummell was an intolerable choice.”
Waverly’s lip curled. “A week ago, you were an intolerable choice. That girl refuses to heel.”
“She is a woman and her refusal to heel is now my concern. I have removed the duty from you.” Luke winced. That argument was a double-edged sword. It reminded the duke of his own disobedience in stealing the man’s daughter. “I understand Tabbie far better than Crummell ever could.”
“She called you a rake and a debaucher—”
“Both were true.” Luke leaned back in his chair, unfazed.
“And what will you do when she catches you in the act? She’s got quite the temper.” The duke’s hands were spread across his desk as though he were steadying himself.
“I am aware of her temper and I’ve no intention of participating in such behavior. I love your daughter. She makes me want to be a better man.”
The duke pushed up slightly in his seat. “So you stole her away from her family?”
Luke grimaced. “You’ve every right to think that. I want to make amends.” He cleared his throat. “Perhaps we can marry again in the Church of England. I can only assume you’ve kept our trip secret. Post the banns and we’ll marry for all of society to see.”
Waverly sat back in his chair, his hands relaxing on the desk. “I would consider that acceptable. She will move back in to my home and will act the part of an unmarried woman.”
Luke felt a twinge of fear. Tabbie was a schemer by nature and that trait likely came from her father. “I will agree to that if you post the banns today and we are married in two weeks’ time.”
“Absolutely not. I will post the banns but the wedding will take place in three months. I don’t want anyone to assume you’ve ruined her.”
“A month, no more. It’s possible she is carrying my child, I won’t wait any longer.”
The duke released a rumble from deep in his chest. “A month. But during that time she will attend all social engagements with us.”
“I will agree to that as long as I am in attendance as well.” No one knew better than him how base men could be. He’d be damned if he’d let another man touch her.
“Very well,” Waverly pushed the marriage contract across the desk. Luke scanned it for any changes.
“I have one more provision,” Luke set the paper and pen aside. “Place her dowry in a fund in her name. It’s hers to do whatever she’d like with. I will match the funds. In exchange, I’d like to stay here for the next month.”
The duke’s eyes opened wide. “If you think to visit her room at night while I sleep—”
Luke shook his head. “I won’t. But you know that Tabbie is concerned about my previous reputation. She will be eaten with worry if I am staying in my own townhouse. I can assure you, you won’t even know I am here.”
The duke assessed him. “I have a room in the servants’ quarters—”
“Fine,” Luke fired back.
“You would sleep in the servants’ quarters?” Surprise laced the other man’s voice.
Luke pinned the duke with his stare. “I would stay in hell if Tabbie needed me to.”
The duke crossed out several lines on the contract and scrolled above them. Then he passed the papers to Luke. Scanning the document, he signed his name. It was done.
“I should have added as a provision that you aid me in future negotiations. I know you’ve done well for yourself.” The duke signed his own name, his features softening.
“I doubt you need my help, Your Grace. But as your son-in-law, I will do so anytime.”
“Call me, Henry, son.” Waverly stood and extended his hand. “Welcome to the family.”
“He did what?” Tabbie tried to close her mouth but it refused to shut. Her father had called him son? Allowed Luke to call him Henry? Only her mother and the Prince Regent used his given name.
He reached for her hand. “The lack of intimacy will be difficult, but at least we will be together.”
She sniffed. “I’ve no intention of following that rule.”
“Tabbie,
I gave my word.” Luke pulled her closer. His smell tickled her nose in the most delightful way. She’d never tire of the feel of him, the smell.
“Actually, you agreed that you wouldn’t visit my room, you never said you wouldn’t entertain me in yours.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.
He dropped his lips to her hair. “My scheming moon goddess,” he murmured chuckling. “Leave it to you to find the loophole.”
Leaning back she gave him a brilliant smile. “Thank you for making this right with my father and for understanding my fears. I don’t know what more I could have asked for in a husband.”
He bent down to press his lips to hers. As usual, all thought left her head at the touch of his lips. “I am afraid you will have to suffer my absence occasionally.”
“Why?” She hated the worry in her voice.
“I’ve decided to take a more active role in parliament. I know we will move to my country estate, but I’m sure you’ll want to continue your work and I can’t help you if I’m not part of the government.”
Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open again. Then her lips found his and nothing else mattered. “I love you,” she finally managed to whisper.
“And I you, my moon goddess.”
Epilogue
Tabbie lay in bed, warm and snug despite the driving rain soaking the London streets. They’d come to the city far earlier than intended. Parliament didn’t begin for another month, but Luke didn’t want to wait any longer to make the journey.
Not with their second child on the way.
Luke stirred behind her. She turned her face to give her husband a smile. “It’s time to get up. I just heard the clock chime seven.”
He groaned. “I’m not going out today. I am staying in bed with my wife.”
“You promised my father you’d aid him in the negotiations.” But she snuggled deeper. His hands were splayed out across her belly as he kissed her neck.
“Papa,” little Henry called from the door. “Mama?”
“Come in, darling,” she called and pulled back the covers for their son to join them. He was nearly three and the spitting image of his father.
He scooted into the bed with them. “It’s waining,” he gave them a sleepy smile as he too snuggled deeper.
“That decides it,” Luke rumbled behind her. “I declare this day a Sussex family holiday. We’re staying in bed, the lot of us.”
Tabbie smiled, leaning back to kiss her husband. He’d made good on each of his promises. In the four years they’d been married, they’d never spent a night apart. Not even in her father’s house. No matter where they were, London, Norfolk, Scotland, his eyes were for her alone. Her fears had died some time ago.
A carriage rumbled on the street below. Henry hopped from the bed and ran to the window. “It’s Grandpapa!” He danced a little jig and ran for the door.
“What in the bloody blue blazes is your father doing here at seven in the morning?” Luke groused behind her, still holding her against his body, his hands searching for baby parts across her belly.
“He knows if he doesn’t collect you, you won’t come.” She grinned, thankful he couldn’t see it. Her father shamelessly abused Luke’s feelings for her on more than one occasion. He knew Luke would go today, not for his father-in-law’s sake, but for Tabbie’s.
Luke harrumphed. “If I am to spend the day engaged in your father’s business affairs, you have to entertain my parents. They can’t get enough of Henry.”
“Done,” she grinned. “I’ll send a missive for you by four so that my father doesn’t keep you all evening.”
“Swear it.” He kissed her long and hard. “I want to be home with my family for the evening meal and my wife tucked into bed with me by eight.”
“Eight?” she cried her eyes twinkling. “What happened to that rake who stayed out all hours of the evening?”
“Oh, he’s still here.” Luke gave her a wicked grin. “I might want you in bed but I didn’t say anything about sleeping.”
Her breath caught. He still did that to her after four years. “Promise,” she said as her lips found his.
“Tabbie,” it came out as a growl. “If you kiss me like that again, your father is going to be waiting for a very long time.”
“Promise,” she whispered again. Her rake was absolutely perfect.
Did you love Tabbie and Luke? Want to hear more about them? They are both major characters in the follow up novella My Duke’s Seduction! Wicked Lords of London is a new series that begins with the Earl of Sussex. My Duke’s Seduction features, Tricia, Tabbies’ sister and a duke who is absolutely certain he doesn’t want such a troublesome bride! http://amzn.to/2CuT9a3
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Christmastide with the Captain
Christmastide with the Captain
A Laird to Love Prequel
By Tammy Andresen
Emilia stood on the beach, despite the biting wind and misty air that December inevitably brought. Her hands smarted from the cold but she embraced the sensation, adding it to the list of reasons why self-pity was the emotion most likely to propel her through Christmastide.
They were all going to marry. Each one of her cousins and sisters had fallen hopelessly in love over the last year and were either married or about to be. And poor, quiet, bookish Emilia was going to be left alone in this drafty Scottish castle. Who was ever going to love her?
The grey water churned bits of white foam mirroring her mood. Perhaps she should join a nunnery. Devote herself to God and charity.
Sitting down in the sand, she allowed her head to drop onto her arms. It was not usually her custom to be so despondent but with the Twelfthtide approaching and her happily coupled family about to arrive, she couldn’t help but feel despair. She’d have to face them all alone. Their looks would be pitying, their happiness underscoring her own loneliness.
She’d give anything for those she loved and she didn’t begrudge them a single bit. She just wanted a little sliver of hope for herself. Was that wrong? She sent up a silent prayer that she too would find joy in love.
But her plea was cut short. Out of the mist a booming noise sounded across the water. Her head snapped up as the vague outline of a ship came into view.
But something was wrong, the ship listed at an angle and didn’t correct itself as the waves rolled.
Standing, Emilia craned her neck to get a better view but her blonde hair blew into her face. Swishing it away, she lifted her skirts to step closer to the grey water. As the ship moved closer, its outline grew clearer. It was in distress. The sails hung limply as the ship tipped at an even wilder angle to the water. Gasping into the wind, she forced her legs to move as she raced along the beach. She threw open the door to the lighthouse and climbed the narrow stairs.
It was slow going thanks to her morning dress, but she lifted it higher and made her way to the top. Sounding the bell that alerted the castle above, she lit the lamp and prayed the ship would see its light. Then back down the stairs she flew, out the door and across the beach where several rowboats were moored.
If she’d stopped to think, she’d have realized that a single rowboat could not possibly hold an entire crew, but fear propelled her as Emilia climbed onto one of the dinghies and began rowing out to the ship. She heard the chains as it dropped anchor and then the whizzi
ng of the ropes as several other dinghies dropped from the deck into the ocean but her eyes were on the shore as she pushed the boat out past the break to aid the failing vessel.
A rowboat passed her by and one of the sailors being shuttled to the shore called out. “You’re a woman.” As if that was somehow significant.
“Thank ye for noticing,” she huffed back. It would have been far better if she’d been able to deliver it with a good measure of disdain but alas, she was running out of breath.
Another dinghy passed by and she stopped for a moment to check behind and see if everyone was off the ship. It seemed prudent to turn around if they were. Much of her fear had been replaced with exhaustion.
One more dinghy made its way towards her, laden down with men. She watched in horror as a massive wave rolled toward them. With so many men, they were powerless to move out of the way and too heavy to roll atop the wall of water. It took them over, crashing the men into the ocean.
She might have screamed, but the wind ripped it away and then she redoubled her efforts, rolling easily over the massive wave and pushing toward the men who were now bobbing helplessly in the water.
She rowed toward them until she reached the first man attempting to stay above the water and, holding out an oar, she yelled, “Get in!” Reaching out her hand, she helped him climb into the rowboat. He collapsed on the bottom of the tiny ship and then she collected another swimming toward the shore. The overturned dinghy had landed right side up and several men were crawling back into it as well.
Between Emilia’s boat and the other dinghy, all the men save one had been pulled from the ocean and she made her way to where he tread water.
When she reached down her oar, the man latched onto it, his blue eyes piercing into hers in a way that made her already labored breath rush out of her chest. They were so mesmerizing she completely forgot to reach out her hand to help in into the boat.
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