by Eva Shepherd
Once again, he rehearsed what he was going to say. He didn’t know if informing her of what Violet Bufford had told him would make a difference. There might be other reasons why she wanted to divorce him—after all, he was hardly the sort of man a sensible woman would want to remain married to—but he had to try. He had to let her know he would not treat her in such a disrespectful manner.
When he heard the thunderous sound of the audience’s final applause, he quickly walked through the backstage area to wait in the wings. To his mounting frustration, he had to endure a seemingly endless round of curtain calls. Once he would have been so proud of the ongoing accolades his wife was receiving, and he was still proud, he just wished the audience would hurry up and finish expressing their appreciation.
Finally, the cast came off stage, all chattering excitedly, all, that is, except his wife, her face inexplicably forlorn. She saw him and stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide, her body rigid, as if a wild animal was cutting off her path.
‘Bella,’ he said gently, ‘I need to talk to you. Please, can you just give me a few minutes of your time?’
She gave him a wary, sideways glance. ‘I don’t believe we have anything to discuss. And anything you want to say to me can be said through our lawyers.’
‘We do need to talk, Bella,’ he pleaded. ‘I’ve heard something that changes everything.’
Her shoulders slumped and she released a sigh of exasperation. ‘I suppose you were bound to find out eventually, but it makes no difference. I still want a divorce. We’ll work out the details later.’
He stepped towards her. ‘Please, Bella, hear me out. If you hear what I have to say, it might change things between us.’
She shook her head. ‘No, Oliver. I still want a divorce. But I’m sure you’ll want to be involved in our child’s life. I won’t stop that, but I don’t want you involved in my life.’
Oliver stared at his wife as if she was speaking a foreign language. ‘Child? What child?’
She tilted her head and stared at him; her gaze still wary. ‘Isn’t that why you’re here, because you’ve heard that I’m with child?’
He struggled to breathe as he stared at her, trying to take in the implication of what she had just said. She was with child. He was going to be a father, something he had vowed would never happen. It was one of the two vows he had made to himself as a young man, so he could be sure of never hurting anyone the way his father had hurt so many. He had also promised that he would never marry. He’d already broken that vow when he’d married Arabella. Now he had broken the second vow. He was no better than his father after all. But he had tried to be careful, hadn’t he? Hadn’t he always withdrawn when they made love so that this would not happen?
He closed his eyes and drew in a strained breath. No, he hadn’t. Not every time. Selfishly there had been times he had thought only of his own pleasure and had let his desire to be as close as possible to her override any thought of the consequences.
He opened his eyes. And now she was pregnant, pregnant with his child. He was going to be a father. Oliver smiled at the thought.
He was going to be a father.
His smile grew wider. Arabella was having his child. This beautiful, talented woman was going to be the mother of his child.
This was not bad news. Not bad news at all. It was the best news he had ever heard. ‘Bella, that’s wonderful. You’re going to be a wonderful mother and don’t worry about your acting career. After all, Lillie Langtry and Sarah Bernhardt both continued acting after they had children. If they can do it, then the fabulously talented Arabella Huntsbury can do it as well.’ He knew he was babbling, but he couldn’t stop. ‘And my mother is going to love being a grandmother. This is the best news.’
She continued to look at him sideways, her expression still wary. ‘You didn’t know about the child?’
‘No, but I couldn’t be happier. You’ve made me a very happy man.’
‘So why are you here?’
He tried to stop smiling, but couldn’t. They were going to have a child together. He wanted to shout it out so all the world could hear. But that wasn’t why he was here. He needed to concentrate. He forced his smiling face to take on a more serious demeanour. ‘Violet Bufford visited me at Somerfeld Manor. She was worried that she might get caught up in the divorce proceedings.’
‘Oh, I see.’ She pushed past him and walked quickly down the corridor, her body rigid.
He rushed after her. ‘Bella, we must talk. You must listen to me.’
She increased her walking pace. ‘I don’t have to listen to you and I certainly don’t have to discuss your mistress’s worries.’
He gently took her arms to halt her progress. ‘Bella, please listen to me.’
She looked down at his hand, her face tight with disapproval. He was about to release her, but changed his mind. He would not let her flee before he had a chance to explain. ‘I’m sorry, this is not coming out the way I meant. I rehearsed what I was going to say all the way here, but now I’ve made a mess of things.’
‘Yes, you have,’ she said, pulling against his grip.
‘Violet Bufford lied to you,’ he blurted out before she could pull away. ‘She made up that story to hurt you. Of course I didn’t spend our wedding night in her bed. I spent it lying in my own bed, staring at the door to your room. I didn’t sleep. I just tossed and turned all night. All I could think about was you, so close but so unattainable.’
‘Lady Bufford lied?’ She stopped pulling against his grip and looked up at him.
‘Yes, she lied. I most certainly wasn’t thinking about her on our wedding night, or any other woman. In fact, I haven’t thought of any other woman since I first kissed you in this very building.’
He released her arm and stared at her, the implication of his words hitting him. ‘That’s also true,’ he said, hardly able to believe it himself. ‘I haven’t thought of another woman since I first saw you. Unbelievable.’ He smiled in amazed joy. ‘You’re the only woman I ever think about. The only woman I want. The only woman I will ever want.’ He looked down at her and shook his head. ‘Bella, it seems I’ve fallen in love with you.’
She stared up at him, his own astonishment reflected in her face.
‘Of course I’ve fallen in love with you.’ He laughed with relief. ‘That explains everything. It explains why I think about you the moment I wake up in the morning and continue to think about you until I fall asleep at night. Why I dream about you every night. It’s because I love you.’
‘You love me?’ She whispered her question, staring up at him wide eyed.
‘Yes, I love you,’ he repeated, certain that he would never tire of saying those three words. ‘When we said our wedding vows, I promised to forsake all others and that’s exactly what I’ve done. I’ve forsaken all women not just in act, but in thought as well. Bella, you’ve done what I had once thought would be impossible. You have changed me, reformed me, made me the man I’ve always wanted to be, but thought I couldn’t. Bella, I love you and I want to marry you. Will you marry me?’
‘You...what...will I what?’
‘I love you and I want to marry you. Bella, will you marry me?’
Her blue eyes still enormous, she shook her head. ‘What? What are you talking about? We’re already married. It was our divorce we were discussing.’
‘But I don’t want to divorce you. I want to marry you.’
‘But...but...’
He pulled himself together. With the announcement of the baby and the realisation that he was in love he had lost track of what he was meant to be saying and he knew he was rambling. ‘Why do you want to divorce me? Is it because you don’t trust me? Is it because of Violet Bufford’s lies? Because that’s all they are, Bella, lies. Violet Bufford is an unhappy woman in an unhappy marriage. She wanted to ruin our happiness and she almost succeeded.’<
br />
She stared at him. ‘But she said...she was so convincing... I thought—’
‘And I can understand why you believed her. I can see why you thought a man like me would do something like that. I can see why you thought I could be so cruel and so selfish.’ It was true. Violet Bufford had indeed lied, but Arabella had believed her lies because she knew he was capable of such despicable behaviour. That spoke volumes about the sort of man he was, a man who was certainly not worthy of her love. Perhaps he was a fool to think a woman like Arabella could ever love a man like him, even if he did love her entirely, with his mind, body and soul.
She placed her hand gently on his arm. ‘You’re not a cruel man, or a selfish one, Oliver,’ she said quietly. ‘You care about people. You’re a loving son to your mother. And there’s all those women and children you support. You even married me to get me out of a difficult situation with my father. A bad man would not have done that.’
She looked up at him with those soft blue eyes. ‘And I realise now that of course Lady Bufford was lying. You would never do anything that cruel. You would never humiliate anyone in the way I thought you had humiliated me. I judged you harshly because I misjudged a man once before, a man I thought I loved, and I had been hurt as a result. I didn’t want to be hurt again so I chose to believe Lady Bufford’s lies.’
Hope blossomed inside him. ‘Does that mean you are willing to give me another chance, to give us another chance?’ He clasped her hand in both of his. ‘If you will, then I promise you, I will do everything in my power to be worthy of you. I have enough love for you to make it work and I already love our child, and perhaps if I prove myself you will come to love me the way I love you.’
She bit the edge of her lip. ‘You are a worthy man, Oliver, you always have been. And, well... I suppose I love you as well,’ she said in a quiet voice.
Hope flourished in Oliver’s heart, making him feel light and buoyant. He put his hand to his ear as if he was hard of hearing. ‘What was that? What did you say? Something about love?’
Her smile grew wider. ‘Oh, all right. It’s true. Yes, I’m in love with you as well. I think I started falling in love with you the first time you kissed me and that love has continued to grow. Yes, I love you, Oliver Huntsbury.’
It was exactly what Oliver wanted to hear. He picked her up, twirled her around before kissing her. ‘And I love you, Arabella, with my heart and soul. I love being with you, laughing with you, talking with you and, of course, making love to you.’
A group of giggling actresses pushed past them and he lowered her slowly to the ground, his hands still around her waist.
‘But if you’re going to give me a second chance, then let me do this properly.’ He dropped to one knee and took her hand in his. ‘Arabella, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife? My real wife. I want to marry you, to cherish you and love you until death do us part.’
Arabella giggled. ‘Well, I do want to marry you, but I’m already married, and I’ve already promised to stay with him until death do us part.’
‘Oh, him, that man was never good enough for you, but I promise you I will be.’
‘You already are, Oliver,’ she laughed, pulling him to his feet.
With that he lifted her up and kissed her again, to the resounding applause of the cast who had emerged from their dressing rooms, all eager to see the real-life drama being played out before them.
Epilogue
Arabella took her bow, revelling in the applause of the ecstatic audience. When her run at the Limelight Theatre had finished, she’d taken up the offer to appear in the latest Gilbert and Sullivan production.
Flora had been right, she had been able to act through her confinement, although she doubted that would have happened without the support of her loving husband. Oliver had told her there was no reason why she couldn’t have it all, motherhood and an acting career. And when their daughter, Olivia, was born he had been true to his word.
He had not only acted as her theatrical agent, but had also been a doting father, not to mention a wonderful husband and lover.
Arabella bowed again. As much as she was enjoying the success of the play, she was anxious to get back to her family. A family that not only included her husband and child, but stretched the length of the country. Now that Oliver’s mother had discovered just how many children her husband had fathered she had been determined to include them all. It meant baby Olivia was now part of a large extended family, with a multitude of doting uncles and aunts.
Even Arabella’s father had joined the family, rather than continuing to seclude himself away in New York, buried in the world of finance.
As soon as Arabella had sent word that she was with child Mr van Haven had left New York and returned to England.
His reaction to her pregnancy had taken her by surprise. She had seen real fear on his face and throughout her pregnancy he had been constantly concerned about her well-being, wanting to call the doctor on an almost daily basis in reaction to a raft of imagined ailments.
Eventually she had asked him what was wrong, why he was behaving so out of character. After much prodding he had told her how her mother’s death, as a result of complications following childbirth, had devastated him. Arabella’s pregnancy had brought back all those emotions that his wife’s death had caused, emotions that he had buried for the last twenty-one years. With tears in his eyes he apologised for the way he had closed down, had never been a true father to her, but he had been so scared of ever exposing himself to love again, and the pain it could cause, that he couldn’t even show love to his only daughter. Instead he had focused solely on making more and more money, trying to fill the void left by his wife’s death, but all that had done was make him more dead inside, had meant he had missed out on so much.
But he was making up for it now. Just like Oliver’s mother, he too had become a doting grandparent. The two grandparents were spending so much time together Oliver and Arabella were beginning to wonder whether wedding bells might be chiming again in the near future.
A stagehand presented Arabella with a large bouquet of flowers as she took her final bow and departed the stage.
If they did marry, it would be the third marriage in the family. Oliver had insisted that they hold another marriage service, one that was a celebration rather than a mere contract. They had held it at the estate, with only his mother and the Duke and Duchess of Knightsbrook in attendance. It might not have been a real wedding, like the official wedding they had held in the church, but it had felt more real and had been the happiest day of Arabella’s life. Up until the day she’d given birth, that is. Then she’d had the joy of becoming a mother and, since then, every day had become even more of a joy than the day before.
* * *
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Beguiling the Duke
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The Warrior Knight and the Widow
by Ella Matthews
Chapter One
As the group began to descend yet another endless hill, Ellena turned in her saddle and caught a last glimpse of her home. She could make out the flags fluttering atop the turrets of Castle Swein before it finally disappeared from view. She slowly turned around in her seat and gripped the pommel tightly. The conviction that she’d made a terrible mistake hardened in her stomach.
Ferocious-looking warriors boxed her in on every side. The solid mass of men and the clinking of their weaponry served to make her feel like a prisoner. Not one of them had so much as turned to look at her
or speak to her since they had set off at dawn.
Through the wall of chain mail that surrounded her she could just make out the leader of the group and the reason she was in this uncomfortable situation. Sir Braedan Leofric. He was right-hand man to her father, the Earl of Ogmore, and known locally as ‘The Beast’. Sir Braedan had convinced her to return to her father’s estate when all reason had argued that it was a bad idea.
Her stomach growled, reminding her that she’d not eaten anything since her evening meal the night before.
She nudged Awen into a faster trot. At first the animal was reluctant to pass the leading horses but Ellena persisted. Although the men wouldn’t want her to pass, her rank was higher than theirs and she was nominally in charge.
‘I don’t like riding surrounded,’ she told Braedan as she pulled up alongside him.
‘It’s for your own safety,’ he said, without turning to look at her, his dark eyes constantly roaming the upcoming countryside.
The long fingers of his left hand curled round the hilt of his sword and the sun glinted off his chain mail. His warriors were fearsome enough, but this man’s broad chest and muscled arms made him a force to be reckoned with.
Ellena shivered, despite the warming sun. She’d been foolish to think she could trust him. He’d no doubt keep her safe, but he wouldn’t tolerate her questioning his demands. She’d been in charge of her own destiny for so long it was going to be hard to lose control—even if it was only for the five days they’d have to travel together.
‘No one would be so foolish as to try and take me when I am riding with so many armed men. And I’m no use to anyone dead,’ she pointed out reasonably.
