by Carla Kelly
“I would never!”
He laughed. “There is something else. I am relying on my father-in-law to help me find a new bailiff and perhaps an estate manager.”
“That is one thing he is very good at, Jim,” she said. She touched his face. “It will not be so bad in the country. And if you feel that you will miss Lady Susan, I give you leave now to change your mind.” She clung to his good arm and leaned against him shamelessly.
“I wouldn't dare!” he insisted. “Gordon would blow my head off!”
He kissed her, leaving her breathless and agitated, and without a doubt that he had already forgotten Lady Susan Hinchcliffe.
Gordon started up the stairwell again. “Really, you two! What would Mama say?”
“Mama would be beside herself with joy,” Ellen murmured. She unwrapped herself from the marquess and helped him to his feet. He put his arm around her.
“Let me lean on you, if you don't mind. That kiss made me dizzy.”
“You may lean all you choose, sir.”
They started slowly down the stairs. “I thought you would enjoy listening to the choir from here,” he said.
“What choir?” she asked innocently.
“Witcracker! I should kiss you soundly for that, but I fear we would tumble down the stairs.”
They descended carefully. She stopped halfway down. “Of course, you know why I am marrying you.”
“Hmm?”
“How else am I ever to get my Shakespeare papers back? Do you know, I have been wondering what became of them.”
He pulled her down again on the stairs. “In the grip of my base instincts, I almost forgot. Ah, yes, the book.”
“Book?” she asked, not daring to say more.
“In a wild flight of optimism, I gathered your essays and some of my own together, plus those ones of Gordon's—they must bear his name, I fear—and Ralph's. My publisher went wild with joy.”
Ellen clapped her hands.
“Only yesterday, still clutched in the grip of fancy, I had them print ‘Lord and Lady Chesney,’ and ‘Gordon and Ralph Grimsley’ on the cover and spine. And you know how printers hate to change type, once it is set.”
“Oh, Jim!” She kissed him, holding his face between her hands. They kissed until Gordon called up the stairwell again.
“Come on,” the marquess grumbled. “Such a lot of stairs. I think that next May we will come here, but we will listen to the choir from the ground.” He smiled at her. “Something tells me that you might not feel up to all these stairs by this time next year.”
“James!”
“Yes, James! My dear, in all your wondering what good your education is, you overlooked a most important reality; one that is not exalted or lofty, perhaps, but which will likely bring us both joy in years to come. When you educate a woman, you educate a family.”
He kissed her hand and tucked it against his chest. “I could wish you the acclaim you deserve in the world of scholarship, but the time isn't here yet. I do promise to stand up every year in the House of Lords and rail on and on about the need for equal education for women. They will declare me a nuisance, but dash it all, who cares?”
“Who, indeed?” she agreed.
“And I suspect you have some ideas of your own on how—outside of general marital conviviality—I can best be put to use. I rest assured that you will correct me if I am wrong.”
“I will think of something, my dear.”
In 1878, the first women's college was established as part of Oxford University. Not until 1920 were women granted degrees.
ARLA KELLY IS A VETERAN OF THE NEW YORK and international publishing world. The author of more than thirty novels and novellas for Donald I. Fine Co., Signet, and Harlequin, Carla is the recipient of two Rita Awards (think Oscars for romance writing) from Romance Writers of America and two Spur Awards (think Oscars for western fiction) from Western Writers of America. She recently received a Whitney Award for best LDS romance fiction.
Recently, she's been writing Regency romances (think Pride and Prejudice) set in the Royal Navy's Channel Fleet during the Napoleonic Wars between England and France. She comes by her love of the ocean from her childhood as a Navy brat.
Carla's history background makes her no stranger to footnote work, either. During her National Park Service days at the Fort Union Trading Post National Historic Site, Carla edited Friedrich Kurz's fur trade journal. She recently completed a short history of Fort Buford, where Sitting Bull surrendered in 1881.
Following the “dumb luck” principle that has guided their lives, the Kellys recently moved to Wellington, Utah, from North Dakota and couldn't be happier in their new location. In her spare time, Carla volunteers at the Railroad and Mining Museum in Helper, Utah. She likes to visit her five children, who live here and there around the United States. Her favorite place in Utah is Manti, located after a drive on the scenic byway through Huntington Canyon.
And why is she so happy these days? Carla doesn't have to write in laundry rooms and furnace rooms now, because she has an actual office.
Table of Contents
Cover
Halftitle
Also by Carla
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Ay me! For aught that…
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
About the Author
Back Cover
