But where was Garrett? Maybe she had disappointed him, and this was the end of their affair. No doubt she had crushed him, frustrated him, quite possibly even angered him. If he failed to appear, then it was her fault for turning him away in the first place.
A most sobering thought.
Two thrown-open doors awaited her in the distance, reminding her of the first evening with Garrett when he’d yanked her outside. His devastating kiss in the garden, the way he’d touched her in his carriage…
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she angrily swiped at them, irritated at the unwanted show of emotion. In the middle of a ballroom crying and acting the fool—could she be any more silly?
No, she didn’t believe so.
Julia hurried toward the doors and fled onto the terrace, taking a large, gasping breath of the night air. She went to the balustrade and clutched the edge with both hands, the rough stone cutting into her gloved hands as she stared into the distance. A few couples huddled by the perimeter, all of them in seemingly romantic embraces, and she was alone.
But at least she wasn’t inside, looking everywhere for Garrett.
He was nowhere to be found.
Chapter Six
Garrett stood on the second-floor balcony overlooking the grand ballroom of the Stratford mansion, studying each woman who passed. He scanned this way and that, for there were floods of them, none so distinct as his Julia.
Where was she?
Had she decided not to show after all? Disappointment filled him at the depressing thought. He still couldn’t believe she’d turned down his suit. He’d thought—nay, he’d believed that they wanted the same things. Yet she’d refused him.
Most ladies of the ton would have fallen to their knees in bliss if he’d deigned to pay attention to them, but not Julia. She didn’t believe herself worth of the title Countess of Bedingfield, but for him, no other woman would do.
With that single revelation, he’d hatched a plan. He was going to prove to the Dowager Lady Renwick that she was the only one for him. If he had to do it in front of all of London society, then so be it.
But where was she? He spotted Sir Reginald slipping through the open doors that led to the terrace and prayed that he was looking for her as well. Though he shouldn’t have been happy at that particular prospect. He’d watched her enough the last fortnight to know he had competition—Sir Reginald was in pursuit, practically following Julia wherever she went. Despite Sir Reginald’s obvious yet unspoken intentions, he didn’t have a chance.
Julia belonged to him.
Garrett waited patiently, grateful the balcony was essentially deserted. He tapped his foot on the floor, stared at those open doors as if he could will Julia to appear. And within moments of that wishful thought, Sir Reginald appeared, reentering the ballroom with Julia on his arm.
Sucking in a harsh breath, Garrett drank her in hungrily with his gaze. She was a vision in red, the rounded neckline of her gown showcasing the abundant creamy flesh of her breasts. The crimson color was most striking, standing out among the frothy pastels worn by the ladies who surrounded her. In such a gown, Julia demanded attention. And she undoubtedly held his.
He frowned when he saw her face. The splotches of redness on her cheeks, her otherwise pale, wan complexion—she looked sad, as if she might’ve even cried, and his heart clutched when he realized he was most likely the cause.
His lips firmed. He would spend the rest of his days and nights making sure she never cried over him again.
Sir Reginald led her onto the dance floor and swept her into his arms. She smiled at her dance partner, but her expression was distant and she scanned the room over his shoulder. Hope rose within Garrett. Was she looking for him?
It was now or never. He needed to make his move. But no way could he do so until the orchestra had finished its set.
For his move was going to be a bold one.
Again he waited, breathing a harsh sigh of relief when the music ended, though the room certainly hadn’t silenced. The buzz of conversation filled the air like the steady hum of insects. The room was packed with all of London’s glittering society, and nerves assailed him, made his stomach cramp.
He couldn’t back out, not now. Not when he believed her so worth the risk.
“Lady Renwick!” he shouted, drawing the attention of more than a few. With the exception of the one he wanted to see and hear him the most. “Lady Renwick, up here!”
Others craned their heads and gaped when they realized who was doing all the yelling. He smiled and waved, then pointed to Julia, indicating he wanted her attention. A thoughtful chap meandered through the crowd and tapped on Sir Reginald’s shoulder before pointing up at him.
Garrett offered the scowling Sir Reginald a sharp salute, knowing he irritated the man beyond reason.
It’s most difficult to lose her affection now, isn’t it?
“Julia!” Garrett yelled, and she whirled around, following Sir Reginald’s gaze with wide eyes. “I have an announcement to make, and it concerns you.”
“Stop. What are you doing?” he thought he heard her say, but he couldn’t be sure.
“Please!” His voice boomed, and a hush settled over the place. All eyes focused on him. Even the Duke of Stratford awaited his next word.
Satisfied they would be quiet, he launched into his speech. “Lady Renwick, I came to your home earlier today to ask if I may court you, and you turned me down.”
The surprised gasp rang through the room, and he nodded. Yes, indeed, she should feel silly. Her reddened cheeks suggested she was furiously embarrassed.
But he didn’t care. Instead he forged on.
“You turned down my suit because you don’t believe yourself worthy to be the Countess of Bedingfield, and while I appreciate the gesture, I’m afraid I’m going to have to prove you wrong.”
He paused and met Julia’s gaze once more. She quickly shook her head, as if she could convince him to stop talking, and he merely shot her a grin.
“You see, Lady Renwick, I believe you are most worthy of being my countess, and I hope that someday soon I can make my greatest wish come true—to make you my wife.”
Another gasp, this one filled with more high-pitched feminine voices, and with those words, he devastated the majority of the debutantes from this season and seasons past.
“Lady Renwick, Julia, would you do me the honor of agreeing to become my wife?”
Silence awaited him, and he stood there, suspended in time as they stared at each other. He gripped the edge of the balcony so tightly that his fingers ached. Sir Reginald had already stepped back, as if realizing he infringed on Garrett’s territory.
“Well?” he prompted.
“Bedingfield, I—” she swallowed and pressed her lips together, “—I don’t know what to say.”
He pushed away from the balcony and ran toward the stairwell, flew down the stairs and into the ballroom. The guests parted as he rushed toward Julia, who stood in the center of the dance floor alone, so beautiful the sight of her so close made his heart ache.
“Say yes.” He stopped just in front of her and gripped her ice-cold, trembling hands, rubbing them with his fingers, wanting to offer her warmth, comfort.
Love.
“Say yes, my love.” He knelt before her on one knee. “I love you, Julia. And I want you to be my wife. My countess. Please.”
She gazed down at him, her eyes brimming with tears that she blinked away. Wispy tendrils spilling about her face, she nodded and murmured, “Yes.”
Garrett stood and drew her into his arms, crushing her against him as everyone roared their approval. The gossips would be going on about this scene nonstop tomorrow, of that he had no doubt. They’d question when he and Julia had found the time to get to know each other, and ask, Wasn’t this proposal awfully quick?
It was, but it didn’t matter. He’d known Julia for years. The moment he’d touched her, kissed her, pushed inside her, he knew she was the one.
And he desperately wanted to make her his.
Forever.
Julia absorbed Garrett’s heat and strength as he held her close. The yelling crowd jostling around them, their offers of congratulations, and the orchestra started up a celebratory song.
But none of it mattered. Not when she stood within Garrett’s embrace and heard his strong heartbeat beneath her ear. Not when she knew he wanted her to be his wife, his countess.
Not the Countess of Bedingfield, but his countess. He’d made the distinct difference to appeal to her.
And it had worked.
He loved her. She’d turned him away, even though it broke her heart, and he’d still come for her. Declared his intentions and his love for her in front of everyone. She couldn’t believe it.
His bold declaration and even bolder gesture, was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her.
“Julia,” he whispered against her hair. “Promise me we’ll never be apart again.”
She gazed up at him and smiled. “Well, we’ll need to be apart during our betrothal.”
He frowned, his forehead lined with worry, as it was wont to do. “How long does that last? A day?”
She laughed and shook her head. “You wish. We’ll need at least a fortnight for preparations.”
“Preparations for what? I want to marry you now.”
Unable to resist she drew her fingers across his crinkled brow, wishing to ease his burden. “Relax. I’m not going anywhere.”
“That’s because I shall never let you go.” Tilting his head, he stared deep into her eyes. “I love you, Julia. I think I fell in love with you that first night in the carriage.”
Her cheeks heated. The man would make her blush until she was ninety. “I love you too, Garrett. More than you shall ever know.”
“No, I believe I have a good sense as to how strongly you feel.” He closed his eyes for the briefest moment, and when they cracked open, the emotion was there, shining in his gaze. All the raw, intense, overwhelming love for her. “I love you so much it hurts.”
She tightened her arms around his waist, leaning into his strength, his warmth. “Take me home, Garrett. Take me back to my place.”
“Only for tonight. Tomorrow I shall take you to my mansion.” He frowned again. “Why did you never want to go there?”
She could never admit that she hadn’t wanted to see what she couldn’t have. If she’d gone to his home during their affair, she’d only have dreamt of living there as his countess.
Now all her dreams were coming true.
When she didn’t answer, he continued, “I hope you don’t think I’m going to hire that nasty butler of yours. He’s deplorable.”
“But he’s been so loyal,” she said softly, wanting to laugh but withholding it. She found it cute how the two men constantly squabbled.
“He’s a mean old coot who never listens to a word you say. Or I say, for that matter.”
Her laughter bubbled forth, making him grin. “I cannot fire him, and neither can you, Garrett, and you know it.”
He lifted his head and scanned the room. Everyone milled around them, waiting to offer their congratulations. “We should leave the dance floor.”
“Must we?” She squeezed him close. “I wanted to savor the moment.”
“I believe they want to resume the dancing, love.” He brushed his mouth across hers, hot and damp, with the slightest dab of tongue. Her insides turned to molten liquid at the illicit touch. “Let’s give them what they want.”
“But didn’t we already do that?”
Confusion crossed Garrett’s face. “What do you mean?”
“We gave them a great scandal, a grand love scene at the end of what was otherwise a rather boring season. Isn’t that what everyone wants?”
“I don’t know.” His eyes filled with concern. “Is it what you wanted?”
She smiled and stood on tiptoe to settle her mouth upon his. “All I ever wanted was you.”
Look for more books in the Merry Widows series, coming soon from Carina Press.
About the Author
Karen has always loved the written word. From being one of the best readers in her kindergarten class to penning romantic tales that never ended about her favorite band members (Duran Duran) in high school, she always had a feeling she wanted to be a published author. It just took her a while to seriously pursue it.
With the birth of her third child came a realization—it’s one thing to talk about writing a book, another thing entirely to actually do it. She decided to go for it in 2005 and began her pursuit in writing toward publication. After finishing a few clunkers that should and never will see the light of day, her first erotic romance novella was e-published in August of 2006. She’s since published more than thirty titles with a handful of e-publishers.
On a more personal note, she’s a native Californian who lives in the foothills below the gates of Yosemite with her husband and three children. Oh, and the dog, the cats, the rooster and his harem including two turkeys…
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ISBN: 978-1-4268-9176-2
Copyright © 2011 by Karen Dindia
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