by Cheryl Bolen
Watson nodded, his gaze sliding to Imogen.
She held herself rigidly. “Mr. Hawke, I have always been very impressed with your discretion concerning my business affairs. I am in need of your services once again.”
“Oh, in what way may I help you?” He reached for paper and ink, ready to jot notes down should the need arise.
“I should like a marriage contract drawn up.”
David sucked in a sharp breath and looked up again. “Marriage? Yours? To whom?”
She cut her gaze to Peter.
David stole a glance at Peter Watson. The poor man had his hands clenched on his thighs in a very agitated fashion. David stilled. Imogen had been on Peter Watson’s arm. What had the desperate man done last night to bring this surprise announcement about? He put the pen down and pushed up his sleeves. “Would you care to share with me the events of last night?” He rolled his shoulders and stood.
“Oh, goodness, look at you.” Imogen laughed, brittle and higher pitched than her usual tone. “Sit down, Mr. Hawke. This situation is entirely of my own making and there is absolutely no need for you to be concerned.”
“I wondered why Walter appeared in a hurry to leave us this morning. He usually stays a good bit longer. I take it he doesn’t approve of this decision,” David said, casting an accusing glance at Peter Watson.
For his part, Peter appeared highly embarrassed. He refused to meet David’s eye. “He’ll come around eventually,” he mumbled.
“What my brother thinks is not for discussion. This is what I want.”
David listened to Imogen’s surprisingly steady voice with growing concern. He had written several documents for clients before, so he knew exactly what the contract should entail and none of her requests were challenged by Peter. But the things left out of the conversation troubled him.
“I’ll make copies after you’ve gone and will deliver them to your home as soon as possible.” He glanced at Miss George. “Valentine Radley can keep a secret, Miss George. He would make a good witness if you are agreeable.”
She nodded slowly. “I suppose the secret cannot remain so forever.”
“What secret?” Peter Watson asked, glancing between them.
David caught Imogen’s eye and saw the plea in her expression. She didn’t know how to tell him. She’d kept the secret so close for so long she appeared to be without words. How would K.L. Brahms’ greatest admirer take the news that the author was the woman whom he would marry?
He picked up his papers and shuffled them until they were neat. “As you may be aware, I have been privy to Miss George’s business dealings for some years. As her banker, I have intimate knowledge of the source of her funds.”
Peter nodded. “Of course. Her aunt left her money some years ago.”
David shook his head. “That isn’t true. We at the bank have worked very hard to keep the real source of her wealth, and the fact that Miss George is in fact an heiress, a secret from society and her friends. I trust you, too, will act with the utmost discretion. After all, if word got out after you were married you might find yourselves in an uncomfortable position socially.”
Peter glanced around the room, panic clear on his face. “What’s going on?”
“Mr. Watson.” David gestured to Miss George. “I have the honor of introducing you to K. L. Brahms.”
Peter’s eyes widened. He looked at Miss George, at David, and then back to Miss George again—his expression one of utter disbelief. “You cannot be serious.”
“I am indeed serious,” David assured him. “You know me. I would never lie about such an important matter. Miss George is the author of the works you admired so much the other evening.”
Miss George met David’s gaze and shrugged. “I knew it was too much to hope for. Thank you for your time, Mr. Hawke. I should like to speak with you about another matter when you deliver the papers.”
He stood. “Anything for you.”
Miss George stood. She swept her gaze over the man still seated at her side, and then quit the room. David followed to see her out and when he came back, Peter still stared at the spot she’d been sitting.
David spread Miss George’s papers before him, ready for the moment when he could finish his work. He glanced at his companion. The frown marring Peter Watson’s brow had grown.
“You were pulling my leg, Hawke, weren’t you?”
“I never joke where a client is involved. If you want any further particulars concerning K.L. Brahms then you will need to speak to her.”
“Those books are,” he said before swallowing and loosening his cravat as if it were strangling him. “Dear God. How long have you known?”
David smiled tightly. “Years. I remember the conversation being as startling as it appears to be to you. She is a talented writer. So much wit and energy in her work.”
“Brahms is a man. Everyone thinks that.” Peter covered his head. “She must have found my dinner conversation utterly ridiculous. Who else knows?”
David shrugged. “Her editor in London, of course. That is all I am aware of.”
Peter wiped his hand over his face. “Do you think Abigail has known all along? They are as close as sisters and I cannot believe they have any secrets left to share. Those books are scandalous.”
“Hardly that.” David sat forward. “Miss George shows the world as it is. If anything, her female readers can learn something from her cautionary tales. But Miss George has never indicated she has told Abigail her secret. At dinner last night, I thought your sister appeared unaware of the contents of the books.”
“Thank God she does not know. I’ll have to put a stop to this. There will be no more of that nonsense.”
“Why would you do that? K.L. Brahms is saving you from ruin and future publications will keep you on solid ground financially. Last night you were impassioned on the subject. What harm can come of letting her continue as she has?”
“The revelation will damage my sister’s chances of making a good match one day,” Watson countered. He stood suddenly. “I need to think.”
“Watson, before you go I have to ask; may I call upon your sister today?”
Watson nodded. “Yes. Yes. Forgive me. I never should have behaved so boorishly.” He hurried out and when he was gone David leaned back in his chair, quite certain Peter Watson had no inkling of the type of call David wanted to make. However, he was too wise to set Watson straight.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“I cannot believe you would do this,” Abigail argued. “You don’t even care for him. You said you would only marry if there was love involved.”
A sad smile crossed Imogen’s face and deepened Abigail’s distress. “I know. But a woman has the right to change her mind. Your brother is a decent sort and I can help. Would you really rather have Miss Radley and her scowls than me for a sister?”
“No. Of course not. I only want what’s best for you.”
Imogen patted her hand. “This will be. I’m sure your brother and I will rub along well. After all, he’ll have what he wants and likely go his own way. Marriage will give me quite a bit of freedom. We’ll not need to wait and arrange a suitable chaperone to accompany us when we go out anymore. It will be my pleasure to take you anywhere you want to go.”
Abigail nibbled on a fingertip. A week ago the idea would have appealed to her. But not like this.
“We could go to London on occasion,” Imogen offered. “You enjoyed your time there.”
“I did but, I doubt your time will be entirely your own.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Imogen stood and moved to the window.
“Well, you will be Peter’s wife and he will wish to spend time with you. He may not like you leaving Brighton without him.” Abigail stared at Imogen’s back, saw her shoulders rise at the idea of being followed around by her brother. If Abigail were to marry David, she’d be ecstatic to spend her days in his company. Not to mention the nights. It did not seem likely Imogen experienced the same sense of
anticipation about becoming Peter’s constant companion.
“Your brother was in my company this morning when I saw Mr. Hawke. I believe the air has been cleared between them although they may never return to their former footing.”
A blush burned Abigail’s skin. “He leaves soon.” Her voice sounded so small and pathetic to even her own ears that she buried her face in her hands to hide her distress. The deadline for David’s departure was approaching too rapidly for her comfort.
Imogen faced her and smoothed her hair back from her face gently. “What am I going to do with you? Do you really want him?”
Abigail slowly nodded. She’d thought of him every other moment. She wanted to know what he did with his day, all alone in his empty house. She didn’t like him being on his own. He should have someone with him to make him laugh.
“Your brother promised me he would end his foolish plan to banish Hawke from visiting. Absurd idea. I imagine if Hawke’s heart is engaged and he’s the good man you claim, following that discussion he might request to call on you.”
Abigail surged to her feet, anxious she might have missed him. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”
Imogen chuckled. “Well, you’ve been berating me so well for settling on a marriage of convenience I thought you’d best get it out of your system as soon as possible.” Imogen kissed her cheek. “Go on. Off with you. You’ll never be satisfied until you see Hawke again.”
Abigail hugged her friend tightly to her. “Thank you.” She fled for home, snatching up her bonnet and gloves from the startled housekeeper’s hands. She burst onto the street, turned for her house and barreled into a broad chest.
“Miss Watson,” David murmured as he steadied her. “What a pleasant surprise.”
Abigail stared up into David’s face and couldn’t contain her smile. “Good morning.”
He winked. “I had just called on you, but was told you were out visiting your friend. May I walk you home?”
When he held out his arm, Abigail blushed as she took it. “Thank you.”
They strolled the very short distance to her house and when she entered, David followed her inside and handed his hat and gloves to her butler. “I trust everything is in order.”
Abigail stepped into the parlor, conscious that the man who’d introduced her to the delights of the bedroom lingered a painfully short distance away and she couldn’t touch him yet. She glanced around him and caught her butler’s eye. “Simpson, might we have tea sent up and make sure to include the seed cake that was made this morning.”
“My favorite,” David murmured when Simpson had gone, leaving the door ajar.
Abigail grinned and sat down on the settee. David sat at her side, turned slightly so he faced her. He held her gaze a long moment and then he swooped in to kiss her lips. When he lifted his head, Abigail’s senses were spinning wildly.
“I missed you,” he whispered.
The heat in his eyes drew her closer to him. At the last second, Abigail found the sense not to throw herself into his arms. Simpson would return at any moment. She shook her head to clear it. “That’s what every woman wants to hear.”
“Hmm.” David caressed her cheek. “Is all well between Imogen and yourself? I fear the proposal has caught you unawares since I was sure you had your sights set on an entirely different bride for Peter.”
She caught his hand and held it tightly against her skin. “Yes, I’m just worried she’ll come to regret her decision. She doesn’t love him and he surely does not love her.”
“I thought that the case, too. But everything has been arranged now and there is nothing to stop them. The banns will be called on Sunday and the marriage should happen shortly thereafter. You’ll be glad to know the bank has no further interest in this house.”
“So you’re free to return to London.” Abigail stood and hurried to the front window, staring outside at the bright sunny day without really seeing anything beautiful in it. He was leaving and there wasn’t anything she could do to change his mind. He had responsibilities and he would honor them. Tears threatened to fall down her cheek and she held them back ruthlessly. When he was gone, she would blubber all she liked. But she wouldn’t waste what was left of their time together.
“I’m not as free as you think. I made a promise to stay, if you remember. But there is one other important affair that must be settled before I could possibly return to the capital. Something that has become very, very urgent and important to me.”
“Princess.” She sagged. “I suppose now my brother’s future is assured I am able to take care of her for you.”
“Good.” He moved to stand behind her, hands resting lightly on her upper arms. “However, she is not at the forefront of my mind right now. And if I can resolve that issue to my satisfaction then Princess’ care will be assured.”
Puzzled, Abigail faced him. His expression had become serious once more. “What is it?”
“I need you to do something for me,” he whispered so softly that Abigail strained to hear.
When he said nothing more immediately, Abigail nodded. “Anything.”
“You agree without knowing exactly what my request entails?” David brushed his fingers along her cheek. “I want to marry you, my love.”
“You do?” Abigail clenched his coat lapels to keep from falling. She had hoped but never dared let herself believe that he would propose today.
He cupped her face with both hands, smiling down on her with a wide grin. “I couldn’t possibly have had any other thought in my mind after the events of the past few days. I should have explained myself better last night, but you’ve turned my world upside down and I must confess I like the confusion very much. I love you. Marry me. Come live with me in London and I promise to give you everything you need. My name. My boundless devotion. My every spare moment.”
“Oh.” Abigail’s eyes filled with tears. He wanted to marry her. She couldn’t believe it really was happening. She closed her eyes to savor the moment and memorize how she felt. Having all your dreams come true was like spinning in the dark with only the bright moon to ground you. The tears fell down her cheeks, but she quickly blinked them away and raised her face in case he got the wrong idea of them.
David, however, frowned at something over the top of her head. “My love, I don’t mean to be impatient, but I’ll need an answer very soon. Your brother is about to come home and will not be happy to see us alone like this. Your reputation means everything to me.”
He removed his hands from her face as the front door opened. He stepped back just as Peter reached the parlor doorway.
Peter blinked. “Hawke, what the devil are you doing here?”
When David glanced at her, she nodded quickly. “I will.”
Peter approached, glancing between them. “What’s going on? Have you been crying, Abigail?”
“Of course I have.” She smiled at David. “I’ve just been made the happiest woman in Brighton. Mr. Hawke—David—has asked me to marry him and I’ve gladly accepted.”
“Like hell you have.” Her brother turned on David, fists clenched. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble? You stay away from my sister.”
“I cannot do that.” David’s gaze flicked in her direction, another smile broke free, making him appear so much happier than before. “I love her.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You only love money.”
David sighed, a little sadly. “I do love Abigail and cannot bear the thought of not seeing her every day.”
Abigail caught David’s hand and clung to his arm. “I feel exactly the same. Please be happy for me.”
“Utterly out of the question,” Peter snapped. “You’ll be miserable and I’m putting a stop to this nonsense now before it goes too far.” Then he stormed out of the house without another word or backwards glance.
“Now that reaction I hadn’t considered,” David muttered. He drew Abigail closer and pressed his head to hers. “My darling. My love. I’ll convince him.”
/>
“How? He seems so set against the idea.”
“Leave it to me.” He twisted to kiss her cheek, and then brushed his lips softly against hers. “I’m not so easily put off as to believe his first answer. I count myself a skilled negotiator.”
Abigail threw her arms around his neck, afraid to lose her chance at happiness. “Maybe he’ll change his mind by the time you come back from London.”
His arms tightened. “I’m not leaving Brighton until you’re mine,” he murmured against her ear. “Who knows what scandals you’ll embark on if I’m not here to distract you?”
She laughed and drew him closer. “There is nothing to fear. I’ve saved all my scandalous plans for you.”
David returned her embrace, his warm hands cradling her against him.
Afraid their time alone was short, she raised her head and kissed his lips hungrily, hoping to remind him of the passion they had shared last night and what was to come when they were married.
When he drew back, Abigail had successfully rumpled him.
“I should go before someone else walks in.” He glanced around, guilt clear in his expression. “But hold onto that feeling until we’re married. No more sneaking into my house.”
Abigail pouted. “If you insist, but it will not be easy to stay away.”
He kissed her again, a deep drugging kiss that went on and on. He lifted his head and began to laugh. “Abigail, what would I do without you? I am the luckiest of men, but I want everyone to know it before the next time you’re in my bed for I doubt I’ll let you out again.”
Abigail laughed with him, but she also plotted her next scandalous adventure in his arms. The idea of never leaving his bed was very appealing.
EPILOGUE
Waves crashed and fell in a steady rhythm along the shoreline of their swimming spot, but David didn’t pay them any attention. His heart pulsed with a different rhythm now, part panic, part exhilaration. Abigail would be his wife. He just had to convince her stubborn brother it was in everyone’s best interests without revealing the extent of the relationship. Abigail had already seduced him and he’d taken advantage of her too. There was only one course of action he could take. “I haven’t changed my mind. I won’t.”
