by Megan Bryce
He smiled and patted her hand. “Yes. But I fear you sometimes prefer to watch rather than do. A student of the wind and waves would not hesitate to jump on a boat or frolic in the ocean to study more deeply. I would not want you to miss this opportunity to study life more in depth. A husband and children would not take from the experience, but add.”
Olivia stared unseeing out the window. “But what if I’m afraid?”
“Do you fear Mr. Jenkins?”
“I fear myself. I wonder if I’ll forget who I am and try to be his perfect wife.”
Mr. Blakesley laughed. “You have never tried to be a perfect anything, Olivia. Not a perfect daughter, a perfect sister, a perfect aunt. You have always walked your own path. I doubt you would stop now. And I doubt Mr. Jenkins would want that since you are the woman he wishes to marry.”
“He would probably be quite shocked if I turned up in a frilly orange ball gown.”
“The man would probably demand the return of the real Olivia.”
“What if he doesn’t let me out at night to watch the stars?”
Mr. Blakesley’s eyes twinkled.
“Then I dare say you would do the same thing when I forbade you to go outside after dark: Steal all the keys to the bedchambers, lock everyone inside, and continue your studies in peace.”
Olivia smiled. “I don’t know why you didn’t tan my hide.”
Mr. Blakesley chuckled. “It wouldn’t have done any good.”
She looked at her father and said quietly, “How do I know it will be a happily-ever-after?”
“You just have to believe. And be prepared to take some action to get it.”
The carriage ride was long and uncomfortable, but at last they arrived. Four boys ran out to greet them, yipping and hollering. Marcus helped her down from the carriage, her backside protesting profusely with every step.
“Ah, Olivia. Have you come to see my wife’s pride and joy?”
She smiled. “You know I have. They heard the cry in Scotland, I’m sure. A girl, a girl! Prudence has had her girl!”
Marcus laughed. “If you want anything from her, now is the time to ask. She has already told the boys they may have whatever they wish as a gift from their sister.”
“No more threats of Papa sleeping with his horses?”
“I believe I’m safe. For now.”
Olivia spied her mother behind him. She had arrived weeks earlier to help Prudence with her lying-in, and Olivia was not looking forward to hearing her mother’s thoughts on losing Mr. Jenkins.
But her mother merely looked at her, not saying a word, and went straight to her father, fussing over him and exclaiming how happy she was he had made it safely.
Olivia sighed in relief and instructed one of the boys to take her to Prudence.
She lay on the bed, her daughter asleep in the cradle of her arms. Prudence radiated joy, her eyes bright and shiny.
“Congratulations, Prue.”
“Isn’t she beautiful, Livvy? The most beautiful sight in the whole world.”
Olivia smiled and stroked the baby soft skin of her niece. “Far be it for me to contradict a deliriously happy mama.”
“Tell me she is beautiful, Olivia, or I shan’t let you hold her.”
“She is the most precious thing I have ever seen.”
Prudence grinned, relaxing her hold as Olivia took the baby.
Olivia looked down at her niece. “Have you thought of a name?”
“Nothing. I wouldn’t think of it while I was pregnant and now I can’t think of a single one. I’ve been calling her my little angel and the boys have taken it up.” Prudence looked at her sheepishly. “What do you think?”
“I think she will be the terror of the house if you name her that. She will boss her brothers around, get whatever she wants from her papa, and be doted upon by her mama.”
Prue sighed happily. “I know. She’ll be the most spoiled little girl in the whole world.”
Olivia grinned down at her niece. “It doesn’t sound too bad a life, does it, Angel?”
“Mother is going to have a fit. I can hear her already, What kind of name is that?”
“I think I’d surprise her with it at the christening.”
They sat companionably, simply admiring the baby. Olivia stroked the wisps of her hair and marveled at the size of her fingernails.
Olivia said, “Mother’s not speaking to me.”
Prudence rolled her eyes. “Lucky you. I hear all day long about Mr. Jenkins and your rejection of him. Pray that she continues punishing you.”
Olivia snickered. “How long do you think it will last? Do I have until tomorrow, at least?”
Prudence shook her head. “If she makes it to dinner, I’ll eat a goat.”
They laughed until a tear slid down Olivia’s cheek.
She whispered, “I want this, Prue. I thought I had everything I wanted, but now. . . I feel empty. I feel like a great hole is missing in my life, in my heart.”
“Get him back.”
She shook her head. “Impossible. You don’t know what I did, what I said.”
“No, nor do I want to since it was likely unforgivable. You really need to learn to hold your temper.”
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you.”
“What I’ve found useful is to say I’m sorry. Grovel a bit.” Prudence laughed. “Kissing usually loosens up an angry man.”
Olivia said, “How have you stayed married for so long? Why hasn’t he killed you yet?”
Prudence shrugged, unconcerned. “He loves me, and I him. It’s really not so hard, Livvy. May I have my baby back so you can go win over your man?”
Olivia kissed the top of Angel’s head and handed her back to Prue.
“Don’t think so much, Olivia. Just go.”
Sixteen
Olivia arrived back in London after another long carriage ride, dropping her trunk off at Mary’s and seizing Rufus’ curricle with hardly a hello. She raced to Nathaniel’s, arriving breathless and minus her hat. She vaulted from the coach and rang the bell repeatedly. The butler, in his shiny black boots, answered the door with a curt, “Madam!”
“Could you please tell Mr. Jenkins that Miss Olivia Blakesley is here to see him. It is something of an emergency.”
“He is not at home, Miss.”
“Is he really not or did he just tell you to say that? I know he is mad at me, but I really must talk to him. I need to tell him what a toad I am.”
The butler stared at her expressionless. He looked behind him, then leaned toward her conspiratorially. “He has gone to the green.”
“Oh, thank you! I could kiss you!”
He reared back in alarm.
“But I won’t, of course not. Good day!”
She hopped back into the buggy, crying for the horses to GO!
The cook peeked out from behind the butler and nudged him. “You should have told her he was with that Miss Mayes. That’ll be a shocker.”
“I have no doubt Miss Blakesley can take Miss Mayes with one hand tied behind her back.”
“Ooh, would you like to make a little wager on that, sir?”
He looked at her in surprise. “Are you betting on Miss Mayes?”
“Course not. Just how long it’ll take Miss Blakesley to get rid of her.”
“Mmm.”
“Nathaniel!”
He turned in surprise to hear his name shouted across the green and stared in disbelief as Olivia came racing through on a curricle.
Miss Mayes peered toward the contraption. “Who is– Is that Miss Blakesley? What is she doing?”
Nathaniel shut his mouth quickly and tugged on his waist coat. “It appears she is trying to run over the pedestrians.”
Miss Mayes slipped her hand through Nathaniel’s elbow and chuckled. “It does appear that way. Ho, Miss Blakesley, where’s the fire?”
Olivia jumped from the rig, pausing when she saw Miss Mayes. “Are you still wearing that dreadful feather in your hair?
Really, Nathaniel, could you not have picked a girl who at least didn’t walk around looking like a chicken?”
Miss Mayes screeched, “This is the highest fashion, I’ll have you know! And at least he picked someone who knew what fashion was!”
“He doesn’t even know what fashion is! He doesn’t care! Nor does he like opera, nor does he like balls and dancing. He did all that for me. And he definitely doesn’t like silly little girls who think life is about parties and dresses!”
“Oh, you think he would rather have someone who cared for naught but the stars? Who publishes in magazines? Mr. Jenkins is a gentleman, he would never want so low a wife.”
Nathaniel watched in amazement as they nearly came to blows. He held Miss Mayes firmly away from Olivia.
“Olivia! What has come over you?”
“You! Look what you’ve done to me! I was quiet before I met you. Content. Now I’m screaming like a fish wife at Miss Mayes, who I may not have been bosom buddies with but I never hated her. Nathaniel, what are you doing with her?”
“I’m attempting to live my life, Olivia.”
Her face crumpled. “But you love me. I am your life. And I was stupid and threw that away, like it was nothing. Like it wasn’t the most romantic and sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. Like you didn’t mean it, when I knew you did. When I knew you were the best man I had ever met. The only man I could ever love.”
She searched frantically for her handkerchief. Nathaniel handed her his and she buried her face in it. She wailed something into it.
Nathaniel watched her, his heart warming at the ridiculous sight of Olivia flustered and sobbing. “Olivia–”
“I’m a toad!” she cried. “I don’t deserve you. But I want you! I want to marry you, and live with you, and wake up with your leg crushing mine–”
Miss Mayes gasped.
“–and argue over who gets to read the paper first, and lock you in the bedroom so I can paint outside, and have little screaming babies who look exactly like you– except not the girls, I would prefer they take after me. Please, Nathaniel. I will be your perfect wife, please.”
“I rather think you will be.”
Both women looked at him and said, “What?”
“I think you will be the most perfect wife for me, Olivia.”
Miss Mayes looked between the two of them– Olivia in her ugly brown dress with buttons to her neck, her hair skewed, hat missing; Nathaniel, who watched her with obvious admiration.
“I think you both belong in Bedlam.”
Nathaniel drew her hand from his arm. “I apologize, Miss Mayes.”
She looked between them again. “No, I think this is probably for the best.”
She called to her maid, who had stayed well back from the commotion, and walked off– happy to have some very titillating gossip to share.
Olivia stepped closer, gazing into his eyes. “Do you really still want to marry me?”
“God help me, I do.”
She frowned. “Did you kiss her?”
“Of course not. She is a proper young lady.”
Olivia smiled slowly– hope crowding out the panic, happiness warming the cold.
“I am not a proper young lady.”
Nathaniel offered his arm. “Believe me, Olivia, I had noticed. Would you like to swing by the gazebo before we depart?”
She laughed and entwined her arm with his. “Indeed I would.”
Epilogue
Nathaniel climbed the curved wooden staircase, cooing at his crying daughter.
“We’ll find your mummy, little one. I’ll lay odds ten to one she’s up here painting her stars.”
He opened the door, the baby giving him away. Olivia turned, her face a picture of rapture. “Nathaniel, look! It’s a shower of falling stars. Look, Eloise!”
Nathaniel handed the baby to Olivia, watching as Eloise stopped crying and looked with rapture at the stars.
“Ungrateful child. I’m the one who built this tower.”
Olivia laughed. “She’ll thank you when she’s older.” She reached up and kissed him passionately. “I’ll thank you right now.”
“You can thank me tonight.”
“Nathaniel!”
He wrapped his arms around her, staring at the night sky. “I’m sorry the tower wasn’t finished until after Eloise was born, Livvy.” He squeezed her. “I was quite tired of sleeping outside in that chair.”
Olivia smiled. “I couldn’t have climbed the stairs anyway with that big belly.”
They watched together until the shower of stars faded, until Eloise began crying again. Olivia and Nathaniel looked at each other and shared a moment of complete togetherness.
She said loudly over the wails, “Thank you for teaching me the acts of seduction, Mr. Jenkins. And the art of love.”
Nathaniel kissed her tenderly, also speaking loudly. “It was my pleasure, Mrs. Jenkins. Entirely my pleasure.”
And they went downstairs, tossing ideas back and forth on how to silence the interminable screeching.
* * *
About To Tame A Lady
Lady Amelia Delaney is known for her sharp tongue, no-nonsense attitude, and sizable fortune. Numerous suitors have tried to win her hand for the money, for the challenge, and for a rather unfortunate bet. She knows the unflattering reasons behind her numerous proposals– can she ever accept that a man would want to marry her just for herself?
Jameson Pendrake is a devil-may-care dandy who cares for naught but fun and fashion. But behind his laughing green eyes lies a dark history, and he calls off his wedding because of his fear of repeating the past. He can not simply give up on the idea of marriage– a wife is the best defense against the yearly crop of scheming mothers and their frilly daughters. But to allay his fears he needs a woman strong enough to laugh in the face of his past. A woman unflappable, unwavering, and unbroken. He knows just the woman. The trick, it seems, is in getting her to accept.
Table of Contents
About
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Epilogue
One
Jameson Pendrake, the fourth Earl of Nighting and one of the finest catches in all of England, lay supine on his sofa as he watched his best friend defend Jameson’s dignity. Jameson’s honor had fled some years back but Robin was supremely confident that there was still something left to defend. Robin’s sister, Amelia, knew better and she stuffed a pillow unnecessarily hard under Jameson’s head as she argued.
“Of course he let her. He deserved it.”
Jameson had tried to do the right thing. Fix a mistake that should never have been, but was he thanked for it? No, he was unmanned for his efforts. Kneed by his dainty bride-to-be and left groaning on the floor. How, how, could a woman who weighed less than one of his hunting dogs have felled him so effectively? So embarrassingly.
He could only agree with Amelia. He had deserved it.
Robin, ever-faithful, disagreed. “No man deserves that and not a one would allow some chit to do that on purpose. She surprised him.”
Jameson interrupted their conversation. “Amelia, dear. Perhaps the pillow would help more somewhat closer to the injury in question.”
He received a slap on the arm for that impudence. In truth, she shouldn’t be privy to his injury at all but it was hard to keep secrets and adventures from her. It always had been and he was unsurprised to learn she hadn’t grown out of that talent.
She said to her brother, “When was the last time you were able to surprise Jameson? Never would be my guess.”
“And I am not a petite blonde to whom he was engaged. I would tend to think the company would put him at ease.”
“A woman he’d just left at the altar? I personally think he should have expected a lot more.”
Jameson stirred, shifting the pillow into a more comforta
ble position and belatedly worrying that Amelia might indeed think he deserved more. She could do much more lasting damage than Miss Underwood.
Jameson said, “To be accurate, Amelia, I didn’t leave her standing at the altar.”
Which was why he’d reacted much too slowly when his gently-bred bride had gone for the jewels. In truth, he’d figured she hadn’t even known what went on in a man’s trousers, but then he’d forgotten she had four brothers. Who would come a-calling sometime this afternoon, he was sure.
Amelia’s eagle-eyes snared his. “To be accurate, Jameson, one day before the wedding is not sufficient notice for a soon-to-be ex-bride. The only silver lining in this cloud is that she’ll realize you did her a favor before too long.”
Jameson saluted her with his glass. “With friends like these. . .”
A tribute to her mood that she didn’t smile. “You know it as well as I. The only one unwilling to face the fact that you would make a lousy husband was the poor girl.” She surveyed his prostrate form and clapped her hands. “Well, no real harm done. I shall make a call on her this morning. No doubt she’ll realize how close she came to disaster. By this afternoon she’ll think it was her idea to call it off.”
Robin sputtered, “No real harm done? Just look at the poor boy!”
Jameson personally agreed with Robin. He did feel rather ill.
Still, if anyone could fix this predicament it was the dragon. Amelia had a way of making even the most resolute fellow change his mind. And resolute had never been a term he would have described Miss Underwood as. Even so, he feared she would not easily come to see his desertion as a kindness.
Jameson sipped and said, “Good luck, my dear.”
Amelia took his glass from him and handed it to Robin. “Luck? My dear, you’re a wastrel. I just need time. Robin, please keep him at least halfway sober. He’ll need what little wits he has to keep out of a duel.”
She swept from the room, a hurricane on a mission. Jameson was fortunate indeed that she was on his side.
