WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE

by When Dreams Come True(Lit)

  Pierce grew impatient. “You saw me kissing Eden.”

  “Yes, I did. Right there on the drive where anyone could have seen you.”

  “I had good reason.”

  “To kiss her in public? I doubt that! Of course, I’m scarcely surprised she let you. Behavior like that is what I am coming to expect from her—”

  “Mother—”

  “She’s common, Pierce. As common as they come, I fear. I must demand that you send her to the parish or wherever immediately—”

  “I’ve asked her to be my wife.”

  His mother’s mouth closed with a snap. Her hand came up to cover her heart and she reached for a chair in which to sit down.

  Pierce stared out the window, embarrassed by her dramatics. The grooms were coming up the drive from Hobbles Moor, their work done, their voices raised in song. They’d no doubt stopped at the pub on their way home for a quick pint. He clasped his hands behind his back, impatient to get back to Eden. They had so many plans to make.

  She groaned, closing her eyes. “Oh, Pierce.”

  “Come now, Mother,” he practically growled. “Five families losing their homes is a tragedy. My announcement of marriage is not.”

  Her lids fluttered open. “How can you say it’s not? Oh, I knew it, I knew it! From the moment I laid eyes upon that girl, I knew she was here for one purpose and one purpose only.”

  “Oh, Mother—”

  “Don’t patronize me,” she said shooting up from the chair. “That woman set her sights on you from the moment you met her. There is something very suspicious about her story. What have you heard from London?”

  “Nothing.” It was the one thing that dampened his happiness.

  “You promised me you would do nothing rash until you knew who she is.”

  “I don’t consider marrying the woman I love a rash action.”

  “You said you would wait.”

  “No, I didn’t. You wanted me to wait. I made no promise.”

  She made an angry sound of frustration. “I can’t believe you are doing this because of a few kisses.”

  “It’s more than that,” Pierce said. “I’ve been half in love with her since I saw her in that boat. And then today, I almost lost her. She ran into a burning cottage to save those children. I’ll never find another woman with her courage, her depth of character. And I can’t live without her.”

  “Pierce, you are so blind. I warned you once the woman was too… too…” She waved her hands as if words failed her. “Perfect!”

  “You’re convinced she’s a scheming harpy through and through, aren’t you?” he said bitterly.

  “No, what I’m saying is that you don’t know her!”

  “I do know her!” he shot back. “I know what it is like to sit across a table from her and talk for hours on end and not be bored. I like her lack of pretension. I enjoy seeing her dig in the garden and hearing her laugh and talking easily with the servants. Since she’s come to Penhollow Hall, there has been more happiness than I’ve ever known. I love her, Mother.”

  His mother’s mouth flattened. “I never thought I would hear my son speak like a mewling calf about a woman. If you want her, take her! You don’t have to marry her. I saw the way she was kissing you. She has no class. She’s not a Willis or a Danbury or a Baines. She’s nothing.”

  “She is the woman who is going to be my wife,” he said, his voice steady and firm. “And you will respect her. If you cannot do that, then I won’t have her live in the same house with your contempt. I will move you to the dowager’s cottage.”

  The color drained from her face. She sagged back into her chair. “You would send me away over her?”

  “I will not let you openly disapprove of my wife.”

  “I think only of your happiness, my son.”

  “Then you will attend my wedding and wish my bride well.”

  Her jaw tightened. “I don’t know if I can do that. My friends will not like that.”

  He snorted. “Your friends!” He crossed to the door. “The choice is yours, Mother. We’ll be married by special license in one week’s time. You will either be there or you repair to the dowager’s cottage.”

  Her back went ramrod-straight. The features of her face could have been carved in stone. “I will begin packing,” she said.

  He let himself out of her room.

  Eden waited for Pierce at the bottom of the stairs. Doubts had already started to set in. How could she be doing this? She wasn’t any more fit to be a countess than Mrs. Meeks!

  And yet, when she saw him come down the stairs toward her, her protests died without being spoken.

  Pierce paused on the last step.

  “What did your mother say?” Eden asked anxiously.

  “She’s happy for us,” he replied, but his smile of assurance didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  She reached up to lay her hand against the side of his face. “Pierce—” she began, but he caught her hand and stepped beside her.

  “Everything is all right, Eden. Everything.”

  She wanted to believe him.

  He pressed his lips against the tips of her fingers. “We shall have the finest wedding ever known to Cornwall.” A muscle tightened in his jaw and his eyes blazed with fierce pride. “And it will be done before the members of the gentry. Every one of them. I plan on marrying you with all pomp and ceremony due the Lord of Penhollow. You will be my countess, Eden, and I shall love you till the end of my life.”

  “I don’t deserve you,” she whispered.

  His hold on her hand tightened. “Never say that, Eden. Never.”

  Humbled by his unconditional declaration of love, she was tempted to tell the truth. To confess all.

  The moment was broken by the entrance of Mrs. Meeks and Rawlins, both of them laughing at some private jest. Seeing Eden and their lord standing closely together, they came to an abrupt halt.

  “Beg pardon, my lord, miss,” Mrs. Meeks mumbled and would have retreated with Rawlins except that Lord Penhollow called her forward.

  “Mrs. Meeks, you and Rawlins are exactly the people we need to see. After all, we have a wedding to plan.”

  “Oh and happy we all are for you, my lord,” Mrs. Meeks chirped.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Meeks. I’m expecting you to help Miss Eden with the wedding arrangements.”

  “But of course, my lord! I would consider it an honor. But what of Lady Penhollow—”

  “Rawlins, you will help too,” Lord Penhollow interjected smoothly. “I want all our neighbors invited. The Willises, Lord and Lady Danbury, Lord and Lady Baines, Captain and Mrs. Dutton. I don’t want any name left off the list,” he insisted firmly. “Miss Eden and Mrs. Meeks will prepare the invitations and, Rawlins, you will see they are delivered.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Rawkins responded. “And may I add my own congratulations, sir?”

  “Yes. Thank you,” Lord Penhollow said, and then flashed Eden a smile. “There you have it. Rawlins, Mrs. Meeks, and the staff is at your disposal. It will be a busy week. Can you manage it?”

  “I—” She hesitated. What did she know about planning a wedding?

  Her answer wasn’t necessary. Lord Penhollow continued on, in full charge of plans, “Come, Mrs. Meeks, Rawlins. I have paper in my study which will be perfect for the invitations.” Without a backward glance, he started down the hall.

  Both servants trailed behind him, Mrs. Meeks chattering happily. “This is so exciting, my lord. We had almost given up all hope of your marrying.”

  Lord Penhollow didn’t answer her. Rawlins elbowed her as a sign that she should watch herself but nothing could contain Mrs. Meek’s excitement.

  Eden watched them go with a sense of disquietude. She raised her gaze up the stairs toward Lady Penhollow’s room. What had his conversation with his mother really been like? She couldn’t imagine Lady Penhollow accepting the news gracefully.

  And there was something about Lord Penhollow’s insistence to invite all the
gentry that was not quite right. It was almost as if he was daring them to refuse his invitation. Yes, that was it. He was challenging them.

  Eden took two steps up the stairs and then paused. What would happen if she followed her impulse and spoke to Lady Penhollow directly?

  She knew the answer. The woman would only confirm what Eden’s intuition had already told her. Lady Penhollow did not want Eden to marry her son. His friends would not wish it.

  And they all would be right.

  Eden stood in indecision. She should tell Lord Penhollow the truth, now, before the idea of this wedding went further… and yet, if she did, what did she stand to lose?

  The love of the man who had in a very short period of time become the center of her universe.

  Eden had spent her life taking advantage of what opportunities had presented themselves. If she told Lord Penhollow the truth now, especially after he’d made a public declaration, it could cost her his love.

  The price for the truth was too high.

  She came down the steps and walked, slowly at first and then with increasing determination, toward the study. With each step her fears receded and her excitement grew. She had a wedding to plan.

  * * *

  Two days later, Mrs. Willis was astounded to receive an invitation to Lord Penhollow’s wedding. She marched into the sitting room where her husband read the papers while her daughter sewed a new ribbon on a hat.

  “This is infamous! Shocking!” she announced, and threw the invitation on the floor in front of her husband.

  “What is shocking, Dovie?” he asked.

  “That is an invitation to Lord Penhollow’s wedding. He’s going to marry that baggage next Wednesday morning. In the church, no less.”

  “He’s marrying Miss Eden?” Victoria asked. She laughed. “How happy I am for her!”

  “You’re happy for her?” Mrs. Willis spun around to face her daughter. “Don’t you understand? This has ruined your hopes of landing Lord Penhollow. Oh, when I think of the time I wasted on Lady Penhollow, and she didn’t even send me a warning to expect the worst. She’d even assured me that her son wouldn’t marry that creature.”

  “I like Miss Eden,” Victoria declared mutinously.

  “Of course you do, dear,” her mother answered. “Because you are young and the young always counter whatever their parents say.” She sat in a chair beside her husband, the wheels of her mind working. “Well, there’s nothing to be done for it. Of course, we will not attend the wedding.”

  “But that would be an insult to Lord Penhollow!”

  “That’s right, Dovie,” Mr. Willis said, lowering his paper. “We don’t want to tweak Penhollow’s nose.”

  “We have a prior engagement.”

  “We do? What’s that?” he asked.

  “We’re…” Mrs. Willis paused. “We’re going to see your sister in Bristol. She’s been hounding us to visit. I shall write and tell her we are coming. Then I will send our regrets to Penhollow Hall.”

  “Is that wise, Dovie?”

  “The Penhollows are not good ton, ” she told her husband. “To be seen there would be a disaster socially. I’m quite sure Lady Baines and Lady Danbury will do the same. Besides, you can’t disappoint your sister, can you? I’ll tell her to expect us Monday. It’s short notice, but she will manage.” Her mind made up, she rose from the chair. “However, I shall never forgive Lady Penhollow. Ever.”

  She started from the room, when Victoria’s voice called her back. “Does this mean I will have a season in London, Mama?”

  “We really have no choice now, do we?” She shook her head. “I had so wanted Lord Penhollow for you.”

  Victoria could barely hide her excitement. “I understand Mr. Whitacre is in London. The next time you see Lady Danbury, will you ask? He promised to call on me should I come to the city.”

  “Mr. Whitacre, hmmm?” Mrs. Willis said with new interest. “Good family. Bit of money there. Yes, he might do. He might do very well. Perhaps we can manage a trip to London next month. But I will tell you this and mark my words well, I will never set foot in Penhollow Hall again! And if I see Lady Penhollow or her son, I shall give them the cut direct—and will recommend my friends do so also!”

  Chapter 14

  The day before their wedding, Eden searched out Pierce in his study. The door was slightly open but she hesitated. This was not an interview she looked forward to with anticipation.

  Through the crack in the door, she could see him sitting at his desk. A lock of his dark hair fell over his brow as he studied the papers before him. He picked up a pen, dipped it in the inkwell, and began writing.

  The nib scratched its way across the paper. The clock over the mantel ticked the passing time. She was tempted to steal away quietly, when he looked up.

  “Eden?”

  She couldn’t run now. She pushed the door open with her fingertips. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

  “You could never disturb me.” He flashed her a smile so welcoming, she could almost convince herself that her doubts were groundless. “Come in,” he urged.

  She entered, shutting the door behind her. “I need a moment of your time.”

  He tossed the pen down and rose, coming around the desk to her. “You can have all my time you wish.” He indicated for her to sit in a chair in front of the desk. He took the chair opposite. “What is it, Eden?”

  She rubbed her hands together nervously. The muscles in her back felt tight and strained. She didn’t know where to begin.

  He began for her. “It’s the wedding.”

  She studied him a moment and then nodded. “I don’t think it’s a wise idea.”

  “Because of Mother?” Lady Penhollow had taken to her rooms after the Hobbles Moor fire and had not come out even for meals. Mrs. Ivy was making a great production of the packing process and everyone knew Lady Penhollow was moving out.

  “That is one of my concerns.”

  Pierce leaned forward. “Mother is her own worst enemy. You can’t let her interfere with our happiness. I learned that lesson early in life. She’s done this before.”

  Eden attempted to smile and meet his gaze. “Yes, well, Mrs. Meeks has told me the same thing.”

  He sat back. “There. You see?”

  “But it isn’t just your mother. Pierce, I know the vicar has counseled you against this marriage.”

  He sat still for a moment. “How do you know this?”

  “There are no secrets in Hobbles Moor.”

  “I did not ask the vicar’s opinion, Eden.”

  “I know that. He was put up to it by Captain Dutton and some of your mother’s friends. Pierce, all of your neighbors, including Captain Dutton, have sent their regrets. Even Dr. Hargrave is not coming.”

  Pierce’s face was an inscrutable mask. “We are marrying on short notice. It’s to be expected.”

  Eden wouldn’t accept the excuse. “They are not coming because of me.”

  “What they think is of no concern to me. What is important is that the vicar has agreed to perform the ceremony.”

  Eden gripped her hands tightly in her lap. “Well, perhaps that has something to do with your owning his benefice.”

  “Perhaps,” came his answer.

  “Pierce, we can’t marry.”

  He was on his feet in an instant. His hands came down on her arms and he pulled her up to meet him. “Is this what you want?”

  She started to speak, but he interrupted her.

  “No, don’t give me some nonsense about doing what’s best for me. That excuse is weak.” His blue eyes bored into her as if he could read her very soul. “I love you. I can barely wait until tomorrow. I want you, Eden, as I’ve never wanted another woman before. So knowing that, what is your answer?”

  “You don’t know who I am.”

  “Then tell me all your secrets and be done with it.”

  For a second, she wavered in indecision… but the risk was so great.

  He pulled her
into his arms. “I don’t care.

  Can’t you understand? I would marry you if you were a milkmaid.“

  Resting in the haven of his embrace, Eden whispered, “They’d probably accept a milkmaid.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  “No.”

  He released his hold, and brushed her hair gently away from her face. “What they think, what anyone thinks, doesn’t matter anymore. Don’t you understand?”

  And then he kissed her. There was desire and need in his kiss and she answered it in the only way she knew—by opening herself to him. She slipped her arms up around his neck.

  He fitted her against him until she could feel his hardness. This was wrong, she told herself. It was selfish… but, heaven help her, she could not turn away from everything she’d ever wanted.

  Not if he wanted her.

  He broke the kiss off, his breathing heavy. “You’d best leave now, Eden. If you stay, I’ll sweep my desk clean, lay you on top of it, and claim you there. I’m no longer a patient man. I want you.”

  His bold words thrilled her. “Then don’t wait. Pierce, take me, please. Right here. Now. I want you.”

  “Eden, I can’t—”

  “Yes, you can. It’s mine to give. Please.” Take what I offer. Don’t marry me!

  The ticking of the clock on the mantel measured the passage of time. They stared into each other’s eyes. Eden could feel his desire pressed against her. Her body trembled with hunger for him, a hunger she knew he also felt.

  Very deliberately, he stepped back from her. “No, Eden, we won’t do it this way.”

  “Pierce—”

  “You don’t understand, do you? You don’t believe, even yet.”

  “Believe what?”

  “That I love you.” He moved away from her, stabbing his fingers through his hair, before turning. “Eden, I want you for more than just my bed. I want you to be the mother of my children and to raise them with your gift of laughter and music. When you are out in the garden, wearing that threadbare maid’s outfit that you wormed out of Mrs. Meeks, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more lovely woman. I watch you digging in the soil and taking delight in the bloom of a flower, and I feel I am the richest man on earth. I need you in my life, Eden. I need what you can give to me because otherwise, I shall grow more and more alone.”