Diana Sensational Spinster's Society (The Spinster’s Society) (A Regency Romance Book)
Page 34
“I don't want to talk about them any longer. Please.”
“All right then. We can talk of other things. I love you.”
He said it so nonchalantly at first that she could barely believe her ears. “Sam?”
“I do. I have for a long time now. And... what I did, bringing your relatives here... I wouldn't be surprised if you never forgive me for it. You weren't ready to tell me the truth yet—”
“I was going to, I swear!”
“I know. God, do I know. I know why you had to be so secretive, but all I saw was a wall I could not stand to have between us. And I know now, I will never be able to stand having any wall between us ever again. Marilee... Please. I love you, and if you can forgive me, if you can say you love me as well, I want you to marry me. Be my wife.”
Marilee felt all the air leave her body in a rush, and she almost started laughing and crying at once. Instead of doing either, she threw herself into Sam's arms, holding him tight.
“Yes, yes, I love you, Sam, and I will marry you. I will be your wife, and I am sure we will fight and be foolish and terrible to each other sometimes, but oh, Sam, I will never lie to you again. Never, ever. I love you, and that is the truest thing I know.”
Sam crushed her against his chest, and when she felt his body hitch in a single grateful sob, she hung on all the tighter. His next words were barely more than a whisper.
“Thank you. I love you. Thank you for loving me...”
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EPILOGUE
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“We cannot stay in the carriage all night, Sam.”
“Are you sure? Cook seems to have packed us some food. We actually could just stay in here.”
“We absolutely cannot. Those crackers are for our trip home, which will not be for many hours.”
“Ah, I see. A bribe for being good.”
Marilee eyed Sam with a slight smile on her face. “You're being a child.”
“I know. I know. I'll come.”
The Barnsleys’ townhouse in the heart of fashionable London was lit up like day, and the crush, even as early as nine, was already intense. As Marilee and Sam alighted from the carriage, however, the crowd fell silent, and heads turned to mark their passage.
As the murmurs started, Marilee took a firmer grip on Sam's hand.
“Are you all right? We do not need to go through with this if you do not wish to do so.”
To her surprise, Sam only looked amused, rather than harassed or angry. “No, we both agreed that this was the right thing to do. It is past time for me to take up my duties again, and at the very least, I will be happy to catch up with some people I have not seen for some time now.”
Sam paused, and when he looked at her, there was something almost shy in his gaze. “And our children, when we have them, should have their rightful places in Society.”
Marilee gave him a brilliant grin and kept her own counsel. It was too early to tell for sure yet, too early by far, but she had spoken with enough women who said that when it came to babies and birth, at some point, they just knew. She thought she knew now, and she couldn't wait to tell Sam. To see what his reaction might be.
“I love you.”
Sam looked grateful to hear the words, but before he could say it in return, they were at the door, their names being taken by the majordomo. Even the majordomo, trained to give no surprise or inflection, looked shocked to see Sam.
Marilee tilted her head toward Sam so no one could hear her.
“Are you ready?”
“As long as you are by my side, always.”
They stepped into the brilliant light of the gala, and suddenly all eyes were on them.
“Presenting... the Earl of Huntingdon and the Countess of Carrington!”
As they moved into the crowd, accepting greetings and congratulations on their recent marriage, Marilee knew deep in her bones that no matter what, she would always find her truth with Sam, and he would always find his truth with her.
No more running away.
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THANK YOU
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I hope you have enjoyed the novella special.
Diana Sensational Spinster's Society is Book 09 in the series.
The next book targeted release date will be 25th July.
In the meantime . . .
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PROLOGUE
“Liam, put me down! You’re hurting me!”
Fourteen-year-old William Tift released her at once and Natalia Hext stepped away before straightening her dress. Settled, she righted her curls, tossing them behind her back before glaring at him. “You were holding me too tight, William.” Her sides still ached from where his fingers had dug into her. She was sure to have bruises before night came.
William held her eyes without the faintest hint of remorse in his green depths. “You wanted to fly. I had to hold you tight or else you’d have fallen.” A sudden wind picked up, blowing the tall wheat that stood around them and the tops of the trees in the distance.
Natalia’s seven-year-old thoughts moved to riding on that wind, becoming one of the birds that flew into the sunset.
William’s black hair danced in the breeze across his forehead and jaw. His skin was dark, a gold so deep it was clear he was not purely English. For her, the only English thing about him was his name. William. It was strong, though she preferred to call him ‘Liam.’
“Would you rather I had let you slip?” he asked.
Tears burned her eyes, but she wiped them away before they could become visible. “When Julius lifts me, it doesn’t hurt.” Though her cousin Julius rarely wanted to play with her, and she admitted that was her fault. She was cruel to him and his friends, even when she didn’t mean to be. She didn’t even know why she did it, but she couldn’t help it. She was even mean to William, yet he still played with her.
“I’m not Julius, Tally,” William said defensively. His hands, which always seemed larger than the other boys’, were balled at his sides. For a boy so thin, he was strong.
She looked away when the tears wouldn’t stop falling. A few drops landed on her shoes. “I know you’re not Julius.” She sniffed and wiped her face again, startled when William grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back around.
“Why are you crying?” he asked in what sounded like another accusation.
She yanked away from him. “You’re hurting me again!”
He looked down at his hands then, spreading them wide before letting them fall. “I’m sorry.”
“Vagabond,” she whispered and sniffed.
“Stop calling me that,” he growled.
She stiffened at his anger.
He looked up, and his eyes softened. “Why are you crying?”
She shook her head.
He moved closer. “Did I really hurt you?”
“No.” He had hurt her, but even she knew that wasn’t the reason for her tears. The warm wind picked up again and whistled in the silence of the dying afternoon that painted her world in reds and oranges. The straw swayed and slid across her arms. She batted it away.
“Is it your mother?” William whispered.
She pulled in a deep breath, but that only caused a tightening in her chest. “She’s crying again.” Lady Romina always cried when Lord August, Natalia’s father, would leave to visit Julius’ mother, Lady Edwina. “Why does my father go to see Aunt Edwina?”
William placed a hand on her shoulder again. Gently this time. “That’s not for you to worry about.” He gathered her in his arms. His shirt smelled of lemon and
grass.
“Sometimes,” she said, with her cheek against his chest, “I wish I could leave.” Would anyone miss her? Would her brother Lorenzo miss her? He always abandoned her whenever Julius and his friends came to the country. Her mother and father wouldn’t realize she was gone. She was sure of it.
“Where would you go?” William asked.
She leaned away and looked up at him. “Why? Would you take me?”
He smiled. “Perhaps. I am, after all, a vagabond.”
She laughed. He was her vagabond. He had no title like most of Julius’ friends, but she didn’t care. “Make me fly. Take me from here, Liam.”
His hands settled on her hips. “Of course, my queen,” he said, using the name he’d given her. Sometimes, he meant it to be mean, but not today.
Today, he made her fly.
* * *
CHAPTER ONE
March 1816
Oxford, England
The heat pouring out of the foundry, beat back the cold wind whispering up underneath Leah Wells’ thin skirts. The furnaces inside blazed with the scent of melted iron, and shouts from the workers filled the night.
Leah kept her feet moving as she waited, standing away from the beggars who stood on the other side the back door in hopes of gathering the free warmth for the night.
Months ago, that could have been her standing in the huddle of discarded wood that one of the foundrymen had been generous enough to give to the displaced souls. Had it not been for her family, she’d have been lost. Though it was also her family who’d destroyed whatever beautiful future she might have had in the first place.
Now, she was hardly any better than the eyes that glanced her way, the fire dancing light across their stained hollow faces. While her clothing was in better condition than the men and women who spoke in hushed tones to one another, she did not wear the newest fashions. Leah had done well to keep her dresses intact, stitching and mending wherever they began to fall apart, knowing it would be months before she could afford another garment of any sort.
That was the price of blackmail.
She closed her eyes and tried to listen past the murmur of conversation across from her and beyond the chill winds to focus her mind on the men inside.
Tonight, she would meet the scoundrel who’d been causing her family trouble since before she’d been aware of it, too young to ask the right questions.
Laughter rang out. It had the distinct air of men of means, baritone notes with a deeply cultured dialect. She pressed herself against the wall and watched the men in fine suits and winter coats leave the foundry, never once glancing in her direction or that of the beggars.
They were the foundry’s investors, but Leah only needed to follow one of them.
Lord Reinburg. He was the one who had the connection to Leah’s blackmailer.
The men all stepped into a carriage, and Leah moved with her face averted and grabbed a hack. Using some of her precious coin, she asked the driver to follow the hack then pressed her face to the window as the vehicle conveyed her down High Street.
A moment later, she was surprised when it stopped before the city’s observatory. It was late for anyone to be out, but it made sense that the observatory would be open. After all, one got the best views of the sky at night. A few other carriages were about tonight, and she wondered at the event taking place inside.
She made sure to keep her distance from the men and slipped into the building through the servants’ entrance. In the last year, she’d grown very good at sneaking around and donning one disguise after another. If anyone guessed who Leah truly was, the granddaughter of a march owner, which was the borderlands given to a marquess, it could mean her death.
Yet she’d risked returning from France to England because she’d known it was up to her to set the past to rights.
Or as right as she could make it.
The observatory was built like a thick column, a circular structure with a dome that could hold hundreds. Inside were three floors—the main foyer, the science library, and then the observation floor.
Leah left her frock in a closet and moved to the second floor. Once there, she straightened her posture, so she could easily flow amongst the ladies and wealthy women who were present. If no one stared too hard at her dress, they’d never notice that it had seen better days.
She met no eyes and offered no smiles as she moved through the room. She touched her pale brown wig to ensure it was in place and then moved around the tables, chairs, and bookshelves until she saw Lord Reinburg. He and his companions were moving toward the third floor, climbing the curving marble staircase. She followed.
“Excuse me,” a male voice called from behind her. “Have we met before?”
Leah slowly turned and found an attractive young man she was sure she’d never met. He was a student. She could tell just by gazing at him and guessed his age to be… twenty? She was twenty-six, but life’s blows had aged her mind far beyond that.
She put on a smile and decided to speak to the man in her mother’s native tongue. While many of the English were proficient in France and Latin, not many studied Spanish.
The man seemed confused, a look that only emphasized how handsome he was, and she knew he was searching for words in Spanish that were similar to either French or English. His brown eyes roamed over her before returning to her face. “You’re very beautiful.”
She blinked and pretended not to understand. Then she gave her apologies and tried to move away.
He caught her hand and turned her toward him once more. His muddled gaze said he was drunk. “Won’t you join me for the evening?”
She laughed because she couldn’t help it. She knew very well what he was asking of her. Thanks to her father, she was English, more English than anything else, if one considered her paternal grandfather had been the Marquess of Darvess, yet after spending years on the Continent, she’d learned that men of a certain means were the same, no matter where she went. Persistent was a mild word where they were concerned. How many times had she witnessed one man after another attempt to use her mother? But Romina’s religious upbringing would not allow her to sell her body. Not even for wealth or power. “No, thank you. Have a good evening.”
Her sudden mastery of their common language startled him enough to allow her to rush from his side and blend into the crowd once more. She moved quickly up the stairs, pressed through the heavy doors at the top, and stepped into the darkness of the observation room. There, she knew she’d be safe from prying eyes, just as she knew the blackguard who’d been blackmailing her thought the same.
Lord Reinburg was easy to find. He stood in the corner of the room by a lamp, and though the flame was very low, as to not obscure the view of the sky, it was enough. She was surprised to see that he was alone. She couldn’t see the other two men he’d come in with, but they didn’t matter. Only the man who stood a few paces away did.
She looked around the room for a moment to see if she recognized anyone from her past. It wasn’t likely she would, however. It had been eighteen years since she’d left. She’d been eight at the time and on a completely different path in life. She’d been a daughter of the wealthy and friends with those who would one day hold powerful titles.
Now? She was little more than a servant in the midst of these men and women.
So, she was sure that no one would recognize her and, after so many years, she probably would not have known an old friend if they walked right in front of her.
Her gaze returned to Reinburg.
Reinburg had no part of the actual blackmail. Like Leah, he was simply being used. The blackmailer in question had been feeding the lord information, and some of that information had leaked to his arrogant heir, Lord Henry St. George.
And it was the chatty Lord Henry who was spreading the rumor that the murder of Leah’s aunt, the Marchioness of Darvess, had not been committed by an unknown villain, but by a group of very well-known lords of Great Britain.
Lady Darvess
had been Leah’s relative, and though she didn’t remember much about the woman, nothing she did remember was good.
The woman was not missed by any means, yet if certain ears got wind of how the woman had truly died, it would mean pain for Leah’s cousin, Julius Hext, and she wanted to protect him from that outcome.
She and her brother Lorenzo would do anything to protect him and set the past to rights.
A woman with an elaborate fruit hat passed by Lord Reinburg, and Leah ignored her… until she saw a note being passed between them.
Was her blackmailer a woman? Impossible.
Yet all she had to do was think of the Marchioness of Darvess to know just what a woman was capable of.
And there was only one way to find out if this woman was the one Leah had been looking for.
* * *
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ALSO BY CHARLOTTE STONE
- THE SPINSTER’S SOCIETY SERIES -
LINK: Book 1 - Lady Lorena’s Spinster’s Society
^ Story of : Ashwick . Lady Lorena
LINK: Book 2 - Alice’s Shameless Spinster’s Society