by Sophia Nash
“All the reasons I need you.” He reached up and moved a lock of her hair from her eyes. “Actually, that’s not what I meant to say. It’s a list of all the reasons I want you.”
Her breath hitched as he extracted a wrinkled paper from his greatcoat pocket and a rose fell to the ground.
She picked it up.
“Oh, that’s for you, although I know it won’t do much for my cause. You never seemed overly impressed by all the others I left at your door.”
Her breath caught. “It was you?”
“At first I thought I was bringing them to bring you some joy. But now I realize there was something more to it. I kept arriving later and later in the day, hoping you would catch me and it would endear me to you.” He stopped and looked back down at the list.
A lump formed in her throat.
“Well, then, first.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve always admired your character above everyone else’s. You are honest, hardworking, extraordinarily gifted with animals and children. You’re courageous, generous, kindhearted, and you try to find goodness in everyone and everything.”
He gazed at her for a moment and then continued. “Second, you are beautiful.” He held up a staying hand when she tried to speak. “No, you are more than that. If I could only describe what I saw, what I felt, when I saw you standing in this lake, water dripping off your shoulders, and off the ends of your braids and eyelashes, and well, everywhere else. I cannot imagine anyone ever tempting me as you did at that moment and every moment after.”
“Quinn, I appreciate your kindness in telling me all this, but I know why you’re here and I would really prefer that you stop now.”
“And why do you think I’m here other than the fact that I am trying my very hardest to convince you to marry me?”
She rubbed her eyes in weariness. “Because Grace has left and Ata has probably shown you that nonsensical letter. And now you think I expect a proposal and you don’t want to disappoint me. But Grace was wrong and I am perfectly happy. How could I not be, at Trehallow? And you provided it all for me. I know it. And it is more than was ever expected in my wildest dreams. I shall be content there for the rest of my life.”
“Just listen, please?” When she did not respond, he pursed his lips and lowered his gaze to the page, which appeared to tremble slightly before he slowly crumpled it and threw it across the room and gripped his forehead with his hands.
“I told you it isn’t necessary.”
He grasped her arms and pulled her up to stand in front of him. He dragged his fingertips up her arms, past her shoulders and neck to cup her face. “Georgiana…I love you. I’m in love with you.”
“No,” she whispered. “Don’t lie to me. Oh, please don’t.”
“I love you. And I don’t care if Anthony is first in your heart. I don’t care if you only dream of him at night. It will be enough to hold you in my arms during the day and each night before you fall asleep.”
Something made a cheep-cheep sound, but he kept talking without pause. “I know that you at least care for me—that you love me—even if it is not the same sort of passion you reserve in your heart for him. I know I sound like a wretched sod, but you see, Georgiana, I just don’t care anymore. All I know is that I don’t want to live my life without you by my side. I don’t want to wake up each morning without your exquisite face on the pillow beside mine.”
She exhaled when she realized the pain in her side was a hitch she’d gained by not breathing.
“And I shall promise to never say an unkind word about the man you’ve so faithfully loved.”
“You know,” she said finally, “you didn’t have to say all that.”
“I don’t underst—”
“When I saw you coming across the pool I tried to tell myself I could refuse you. But in my heart I knew I would be too tempted and I wouldn’t be able to turn you away again. All you had to do was simply insist that you would not take no for an answer. You didn’t have to add all the trimmings. My heart has always been yours. I told you my feelings in the dell.”
“Your loyal friendship has been something I’ve cherished my whole life.”
“Damn you, Quinn,” she whispered. “This has absolutely nothing to do with friendship.”
He paled. And she saw for the first time the raw vulnerability of the great man before her.
She gazed into his haunted eyes. “I’ve been in love with you since the very first time I saw you. I was herding sheep and you came over a hill and smiled and suddenly I couldn’t feel the rain that had started to fall. And…and after that it just got worse. A lot worse.”
He pulled her roughly into his arms and rested his cheek on her head. “Tell me,” he pleaded. “Please, tell me. I need to hear it all.”
She felt him take a shuddering breath. “As every year passed a little bit of hope died—the hope that you would one day come to love me. The more I tried to impress you, the more I fell in love with you. I knew you would only ever look at me as a silly young girl—that my feelings were futile. And then when we became older I realized that what I felt for you, Anthony felt for me. And he saw how much I loved you. It tortured him to know that my heart was yours, not his. I finally understood it all the day of the accident, when I told him I wanted to retrieve a falcon nestling for a birthday gift for you since you didn’t have one of your own and you loved them.”
“What are you saying?” His voice was hoarse and he had pulled back to stare at her.
“The bird was for you. Anthony admitted to me later that you warned him the tree was unsafe but he had planned to save me if I fell. He was right beneath me. He had thought it would endear him to me. I know,” she said. “The ridiculous machinations of a besotted fourteen-year-old mind at work. But you see, I was just as besotted by you, so I understood. And I forgave him.”
He had a pained expression and she stroked his roughened face. “What is it?”
“I was not as generous as you. I never forgave him for telling his father it was my fault.”
Pain flooded her. “No. Please tell me he did not—”
“It is over and done with, Georgiana,” he interrupted and shook his head sadly. “I only tell you this because there should be no more secrets between us. And I understand now why he did it. If he felt half the anxiety I feel right now, I can understand his desperation to have you for himself.”
They were inches apart and he cradled her head with reverence and rained kisses on her until she couldn’t speak with the emotions roiling inside. She closed her eyes and tilted her head until warm lips covered her own. A storm of emotion gathered and almost broke until a vague sound intruded.
Cheep-cheep-CHEEEEP.
She drew away abruptly. “What is that?”
He eased open one side of his greatcoat. A small bundle of white down was revealed and a tiny black beady eye stared at her. Hungrily.
“Oh my Lord,” she breathed. “Where did you find him?”
“He’s yours.” He slipped off his greatcoat, revealing a dark blue coat, which was slashed in numerous places. “I retrieved him from the cliffs as a peace offering. I’m so sorry for everything I accused you of, Georgiana.”
The baby raptor peeped again.
“He’s hungry,” Georgiana murmured.
“No, he’s not. I fed him almost an entire horse before coming.” He smiled, a look of intense love spreading across his features as he gazed at her, and Georgiana felt herself being swept away by a current of desire. She longed to rush back into his arms.
But he lowered himself to the bench to make a nest of his greatcoat and placed the bird in the middle. And watching his care of this helpless bird, she realized it wasn’t his scent or his voice that had always mesmerized her. It was his generous spirit.
“He’s just impatient,” he said, straightening.
“For what?” Georgiana asked shyly.
“He wants to fly,” he whispered, then nuzzled Georgiana’s neck lovingly. “And I know just how h
e feels. Come to me, Georgiana. Please.”
Those words…the ones she had wished for, for so long. They caressed her senses.
He kissed her then, not bothering to wait for an answer. And she was swept into a maelstrom of pure yearning. His mouth toyed with her lips, drawing long kisses from her, one after another, until she wasn’t sure when one kiss ended and the next began.
She reveled in loosing all the fierce love she had hidden from him over the years, and he accepted it from her like a starving man and returned it measure for measure. The taste, the touch, the scent of him called forth a great roaring within her to answer his demands.
He drew his mouth over the column of her neck down to the edges of her simple gray gown, stroking his hands down her slender frame as if to reassure himself that she was there for him. It was as if he wanted to imprint her form in his mind while she twined her fingers in his hair.
He tugged at her gown and all the trimmings underneath until everything lay in a pool at her feet so he could lay claim to the sensitive skin he couldn’t seem to stop tasting. And all the while, his warm hands touched her, stroked her, petted her, with an almost desperate need to give her pleasure.
All of a sudden he stilled. “What was that?”
A loud mewling came from across the lake.
With the last of her rational thought, she leaned forward to help him ease off the rest of his clothing. “Your cat.”
“My what?”
“You heard me. She’s been bawling at every corner of Trehallow ever since you disappeared. No one can sleep for all the noise.” She delighted in caressing him freely and stroking his hair. “So I brought her here to be with you.”
“Well at least one of us is not afraid to tell everyone how we feel.” He leaned back and smiled at her. The kind of smile she had loved in their youth. He then grasped her hand from his head and brought it to his lips. “Georgiana, you must promise me you’ll never hide your feelings, your wants, your needs from me ever again.”
“All right.” She paused. “I want you to kiss me.”
“Of course, my darling.”
“And I need you to love me as I do you.”
“There’s no question.”
“And finally, I want us both to make things right for Grace. I don’t know how, and I don’t know—”
“I’m leaving with Ata much sooner than I can bear the idea of being parted from you.”
“You know you’re becoming remarkably skilled at interruption.”
“And this is my favorite method…” He trailed more kisses down her shoulder and nipped her. “Oh God, I can’t stop. You’re like springtime and rain and a rose garden at night—and I don’t ever want to let go of you ever again.”
“Then don’t, my love. Come to me.”
And with that he lifted her as if she were a feather in the summer breeze and drew her down onto the narrow pallet with him above her. His hands, his mouth, his touch were everywhere and he groaned each time she urged him closer.
It seemed an eternity since they had last touched and she was dizzy from wanting. He was driving her wild with his patient, slow seduction.
He stared at her breasts reverently and then teased them to heightened sensitivity by his touch and his lips.
Finally when she couldn’t bear another moment, he hooked a hand under one knee, nudged her thighs farther apart and drove his hard thickness deep, deep inside of her with one long, bold movement. His length kissed her womb—as if he were trying to imprint himself on her forevermore. The pleasure raged inside of her. As he began the ancient push-pull of passion, she felt such overwhelming joy rush through her that she thought she might burst from it.
Suddenly he withdrew, breathless with passion, and rested his forehead against hers.
“Georgiana…I had meant to wait. Had meant to tell you again and again what was in my heart until you promised. I can’t go on until I know for certain. You will marry me, won’t you? You never promised.” He wore such a look of desperate love and uncertainty on his face. A look she had seen so many times on her own face in her tiny mirror in her room.
She smiled. “Well, how can I not marry you? You wanted a marriage of convenience and I can’t think of anything more convenient than discovering we both love each other.”
He breathed a sigh of relief and kissed her forehead. “My love, my dearest, dearest love. How I love thee.” He appeared years younger at this moment in time—more like the boy she had known but with the seriousness of the man he had become.
She kissed his temple, insanely happy to be able to unleash her love for him. “I’ve waited so long to hear those words. And all the days, months, and years make them all the sweeter.”
He brushed one last potent kiss upon her lips and gave himself fully to her again when Georgiana arched heavenward.
She stared into the inky night sky and gazed at the stars all around them as rapture overtook them both, flinging them into the thready clouds above to soar with the wind.
Epilogue
Ata’s list
November 15—to do
- Discuss menus with Mrs. Killen
- Casually find out if Mr. Grayson Wilde is in want of a wife. Very casually.
- Arrange to go driving with Sarah and Elizabeth
- Visit Luc & Rosamunde—don’t forget presents for babies
- Write a letter to Mr. Brown. Read it many, many times before posting
Dear Mr. Brown,
You shall write to me at once and tell me precisely where you have taken my darling girl. How could you take her away? Grace Sheffey has always been much like a very special goddaughter to me.
I’m not certain I can forgive you for this. And I was just starting to think, mind you, only a particle of a smidgeon of a thought, that I might consider in a more favorable light what you told me in the phaeton.
But I won’t do so unless you bring her back. Grace needs me right now—much more so than ever before. I fear if I’m not with her, she might simply give up on securing happiness altogether or, heaven forbid, do something very rash. What could you possibly have been thinking to take her to Scotland? And at winter’s onset?
You are to keep an eye on her every moment of every day. And if I hear anything about someone getting lost in one of those deathly bogs or freezing fogs, I will string you up using Grace’s strands of pearls. You must bring her back to me. I can’t stand it a moment longer.
If I don’t receive an express from you shortly, Quinn and I have agreed to take his phaeton, which is fully repaired—quite nicely by the by—and we will drive to Scotland to find you both.
I put my faith in you once, long ago, to my everlasting detriment. I might be willing to put my faith in you again. Please, please don’t disappoint me. I’m too old for disappointments.
From your lass,
Ata
P.S. Georgiana and Quinn are to be married by Special License. It is all very convenient as Sarah, Elizabeth and I are to reside at Penrose indefinitely while Quinn and Georgiana oversee the renovations at Trehallow. Grayson Wilde is proving an exceptional steward. But John…he is not the same as you.
The old lady flitted the feathered edge of her quill against her pursed lips and smiled. That should do the trick quite nicely.
Flying. That’s what Georgiana had said. Kissing was like flying. She just hoped these old wings could stand the strain.
But they were willing. They were very willing.
Acknowledgments
Greatest thanks to agent Helen Breitwieser of Cornerstone Literary for her exceptional guidance and to Avon/HarperCollins Executive Editor Lyssa Keusch, Editor May Chen, and Cristine Grace for shepherding this book through publication with so much care. Much gratitude to Cybil Solyn for her terrific insight and support, Mike Odell at the Greenbrier Falconry School for his falconry lessons, and to Crystal Davis and Kelley Grasnow for providing the inspiration behind a strong heroine with a great heart and a desire to work hard—the type of person I m
ost admire.
And special appreciation to several people who are always so encouraging: John Charles, Gregory W. Gingery, Kathryn Caskie, Elsie Hogarth, Louise Bergin, Candice Hern, Anna Campbell, Diana Peterfreund, Deborah Barnhardt, Diana Crosby, Hope Tarr, Ann Kane, Fairleigh Killen—and to www.RomanceNovel.TV’s Maria Lokken, Marisa O’Neill, and Kim Castillo, as well as Michelle Buonfiglio at LifetimeTV.com.
Finally, as always, endless thanks to my beloved husband, children, mother, sisters, and parents-in-law, and to two very special cousins—Peter Nash and Count Arnaud d’Aurelle de Paladines—all of whom provide a well of love and support whenever I most need it.
About the Author
Sophia Nash was born in Switzerland and raised in France and the United States, but says her heart resides in Regency England. Her ancestor, an infamous French admiral who traded epic cannon fire with the British Royal Navy, is surely turning in his grave.
Before pursuing her long-held dream of writing, Sophia was an award-winning television producer for a CBS affiliate, a congressional speechwriter, and a nonprofit CEO. She lives in the Washington, D.C., suburbs with her husband and two children.
Sophia’s first three novels won eight national awards, including the prestigious RITA® Award, and a spot on Booklist’s “Top Ten Romances of the Year.” Readers may contact her via her website: www.sophianash.com.
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