by Anna Bradley
“You don’t have to thank me, Gideon. I only did what Lady Clifford asked me to do. You don’t owe me anything, no matter what we…” She dropped her gaze. “You don’t owe me anything. So, if that’s why you’re here—”
He touched a fingertip to her lips to quiet her. “It’s not why I’m here. I’m here because I love you, Cecilia. I’m madly in love with you.”
She was quiet for a moment before raising her gaze to his. “You…you still love me?”
“I never stopped loving you, Cecilia, and it’s not because you saved me, or proved my innocence.” Gideon took her hand and pressed a dozen tiny, ardent kisses on her palm. “I’ve loved you since the first day I met you, when you scolded me for being ungentlemanly, and told me I didn’t look fashionable enough to be a marquess.”
Her lips parted in surprise. “You fell in love with me because I was rude and impertinent and refused to leave when you dismissed me?”
Gideon laughed softly. “No, sweetheart. I fell in love with you because you told me the truth, and reminded me I’d once been a better man than the man I’d become. I fell in love with you because you dropped the coal scuttle in my bedchamber and shook me awake, and I’ve been awake ever since, and because you sing bawdy songs to Isabella, and because you love and protect her. I fell in love with you because you believed in me, Cecilia. Do you still believe in me?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I’ve always believed in you, Gideon.”
He tipped her chin up and gazed into her eyes. “Can you forgive me for letting you go, and for hurting you? I never should have said those things to you. I was cruel, and worse, I was a coward.”
“You weren’t a coward.” Her dark eyes turned fierce. “You were afraid, Gideon. It’s not the same.”
“I was afraid, yes. Afraid I wasn’t worthy of you, or that I’d fail you somehow, but I’m not afraid of anything anymore, except losing you, Cecilia. I can’t lose you, sweetheart.”
“You haven’t lost me, Gideon,” Cecilia whispered, laying her hand on his chest. “I’m right here.”
Love and gratitude swelled inside Gideon, nearly bringing him to his knees. He leaned closer, hovering his lips over hers. “May I kiss you?”
“Yes.” She gave him a shy smile. “I really think you must.”
It started as a sweet, chaste kiss, but her scent and the taste of her soft mouth soon had him wild. He swept his tongue between her parted lips with a groan, and she returned his kisses with a passion that set his blood on fire. “You told me you loved me once, Cecilia,” he murmured. “Do you love me still?”
“Yes,” she choked out on a sob. “So much, Gideon.”
He slid his lips down her throat, groaning when she arched her neck in offering. “Marry me, Cecilia. Become my marchioness. Come back to Darlington Castle with me, and help Isabella and me make it a home again.”
“Yes.” She pressed closer, stroking the skin at the back of his neck until he eased away from her, afraid her teasing caresses would drive him so mad he’d forget himself.
“Does Isabella truly miss me?” Cecilia asked, when he drew away.
Gideon traced his thumb over her lower lip. “Very much, yes. Every day she demands to know when you’re coming back, and every night she becomes cross with me because I don’t know all the words to ‘The Fair Maid of Islington.’”
Cecilia laughed. “Oh, dear. I’ll teach it to you, if you like.”
“I would,” he whispered, touching his forehead to hers. “I’d like it more than anything.”
Epilogue
Darlington Castle, Edenbridge
Three months later
The sunrise peeked through the canopy of trees, dappling the patch of ground with its gentle rays. Cecilia sat with her knees drawn up and her head resting on top of them, enjoying the warmth on her back and the stillness surrounding her.
“It’s different here,” she said at last, her quiet voice breaking the lingering silence. She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of freshly thawed earth and tender new grass, and a wry smile drifted over her lips. “If you’d told me I’d grow to love this place one day, I’d have said you were mad, but it’s like another world here in the spring.”
She’d taken this same walk every morning for the past week, since she and Gideon had returned to Darlington Castle. They’d intended to remain in London until next year, or at least until the repairs on the eastern wing of the castle were completed, but…well, it was strange the way one grew to love a place—to long for it, even when the joyful memories were inextricably tied to the tragic ones.
“But it’s never too late, is it?” Cecilia turned her head, pillowing her cheek on her knees, and opened her eyes. “Never too late to make more happy memories.”
A soft breeze caught her words and carried them into the trees above, waking the birds dozing on the branches, who began a startled warbling.
“He’s happy again.” Cecilia raised the bouquet of white roses in her hand to her nose, breathed in their sweet scent, then nestled them at the base of the white marble headstone beside her. “Not in the same way he was when he was yours, but happy still. You gave that chance to him…to us. Neither of us will ever forget that, Cassandra. We won’t ever forget you.”
Cecilia remained where she was for a while longer, then rose to her feet and dusted the dirt from the back of her dress, anxious to return to Gideon. She’d left him sleeping peacefully in their bed, and she already missed him. If he woke and found her gone, he’d come in search of her, and she’d miss the chance to wrap herself around him and lose herself in his warm, sleepy body.
“Until tomorrow then, Cassandra.” Cecilia paused for an instant to run her palm over the cool, smooth marble before she turned back toward the Dower House. She and Gideon were staying there until Darlington Castle was repaired, along with Isabella and Mrs. Briggs. Duncan and Amy, who’d married in the early spring were nearby in the gamekeeper’s cottage.
Cecilia paused, a smile curving her lips, because she knew what she’d find before she even turned around. Or, not so much what, as who. “Ah, here you are again. I did wonder when you’d turn up.” She retraced her steps and knelt down in front of Cassandra’s headstone. “I don’t suppose it would do me any good to ask how you manage to always appear out of nowhere, would it?”
Seraphina wasn’t any more forthcoming than she’d ever been, but she presented her glossy head to Cecilia and allowed herself to be petted and admired before curling into a tidy ball beside Cassandra’s grave and commencing a loud, contented purring.
“As mysterious as ever,” Cecilia murmured, scratching behind Seraphina’s ears. “But then perhaps it’s just as well if you keep your secrets.”
It was still early when Cecilia arrived back at the Dower House. She entered quietly, pausing to listen, but there wasn’t a sound to be heard yet—not the patter of Isabella’s running footsteps, or the low voices of Amy and Mrs. Briggs, chatting amiably as they lit the fire in the kitchen.
The morning was still hers and Gideon’s, just as she’d hoped.
Cecilia was careful to remain as silent as possible as she made her way up the stairs and crept down the hallway to the bedchamber she shared with her husband, her heart leaping with the joy she always felt when he was near.
It was a joy that belonged only to Gideon. It was his alone.
He was asleep still, his dark hair tousled against his pillow, the sheet low around his hips, his bare chest rising and falling in deep, even breaths. Cecilia tiptoed across the room, making quick work of shedding her dress and chemise as she went. She lifted the coverlet and slid into bed beside Gideon, who turned instinctively toward her and gathered her into his arms before his eyes were even open.
“Mmmm.” He nuzzled his face into her neck and smiled against her skin. “You smell like sunshine.”
He smelled like everything she lo
ved—sleep, and warm masculine skin, and Gideon, but Cecilia didn’t say so. Instead she wrapped her arms around his neck, dropped a kiss onto his disheveled head, and murmured, “Shhh. Go back to sleep.”
A growl left his chest, but if Cecilia thought it was a growl of agreement, she soon found out otherwise when Gideon opened his mouth against her neck, and his hand slid up her body to cup her breast. “I’m not tired,” he whispered, stroking her nipple with his thumb, teasing it to hardness.
Cecilia closed her eyes on a gasp, her head arching back against the pillow. “I am. You kept me up half the night, if you recall.”
“Is that a complaint, love?” Gideon nibbled his way from her neck to her throat, pausing to press a kiss to the hollow there before raising his head, a playful smile on his lips. “Because I can stop.”
“Can you?” Cecilia gave a lock of his hair a gentle tug. “That’s not the impression I had last night.”
“Mmmm. It’s your own fault, Lady Darlington.” He stroked a fingertip down her cheek, his gaze holding hers. “Even if I kept you in my bed forever, I’d never have enough of you.”
“Forever is a long time, my lord,” Cecilia teased, but she took his hand and pressed a kiss to his fingertip, tenderness for him swelling in her heart.
Gideon leaned forward and took her lips in a kiss so perfect Cecilia’s eyes stung with the sweetness of it. “Not long enough, my lady. Never long enough.”
Author’s Notes
The term “mudlarks” refers to the impoverished children who scavenged in the mud of the River Thames during low tide, searching for items to sell.
Hever Castle, Anne Boleyn’s childhood home in Edenbridge, Kent, features a double portcullis and moat, and is the inspiration for Darlington Castle. https://www.hevercastle.co.uk/.
John Rann, a highwayman in the mid-eighteenth century, was renowned for his charm and gentlemanly demeanor. He was executed in London in 1774. Debra Kelly. “10 Highwaymen Who Gallantly Terrorized Britain.” June 21, 2014. https://listverse.com/2014/03/23/10-highwaymen-who-gallantly-terrorized-britain/.
“Death and the Lady.” Printed on a broadside by J. Deacon between 1683 and 1700 as The Great Messenger of Mortality, or a Dialogue betwixt Death and a Lady. The Penguin Book of English Folk Songs. Edited by Ralph Vaughan Williams and A.L. Lloyd. Baltimore: Penguin Books, 1968. Originally published 1959. Lyrics and the music available at http://www.contemplator.com/england/death.html.
Marriage to one’s in-laws was not technically illegal in England until the Marriage Act of 1835. Regina Jeffers. “A Voidable Marriage in History: Marrying the Sister of One’s Late Wife or the Brother of One’s Late Husband.” February 26, 2018.
Mozart’s Piano Sonata No. 16 in C is a beginner’s piece sometimes known as Sonata Facile or Sonata Semplice. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piano_Sonata_No._16_(Mozart).
“Down Among the Dead’ is an English drinking song first published in 1728 in The Dancing Master, but it may be older in origin. The song’s blatant references to sexual activity and drunkenness make it singularly inappropriate for drawing-room entertainment. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Down_Among_the_Dead_Men_(song).
For information on the symptoms and effects of pennyroyal poisoning, see https://www.cardiosmart.org/Healthwise/d044/79/d04479.
Nicholas Culpeper’s herbal compendium was first published by Peter Cole in Cornhill in 1652 as The English Physitian, then republished the following year as The Complete Herbal and English Physician.
Lady Leanora would not have been known as the Dowager Marchioness of Darlington, because the new peer is her husband’s younger brother, and not her husband’s descendent: “A widow of a peer may be called dowager only if (a) her husband bore the title and (b) the current peer is a direct descendant of her deceased husband.” In other words, “A dowager peeress is the mother, stepmother, or grandmother of the reigning peer, and the widow of a preceding one. In no other case is she a dowager.” Titles and Forms of Address: A Guide to their Correct Use. London: A. & C. Black Ltd., Third Edition, 1932. Accessed via Chinet.com. https://www.chinet.com/~laura/html/titles09.html.
Turn the page for a sneak peek at The Virgin Who Humbled Lord Haslemere by Anna Bradley!
THE VIRGIN WHO HUMBLED LORD HASLEMERE
The Swooning Virgins Society
Anna Bradley
There’s nothing distinct about the brick building that houses The Clifford Charity School for Wayward Girls, which perfectly suits the purposes of its extraordinary residents—bold young ladies who expose London’s most corrupt aristocrats—and find their true loves along the way …
The only thing Georgiana Harley despises more than chaos is bad behavior. So when the Duchess of Kenilworth pleads for help to escape her witty, charming, handsome, heartless monster of a husband, she’s come to the right place. Calm and logical, with nerves of steel, Georgiana is uniquely qualified to safely disappear the duchess, along with her young son. Her greatest challenge is Her Grace’s brother, Lord Haslemere. An arrogant scoundrel, he keeps interfering with Georgiana’s methodical plans. If only he would get out of her way—yet once he reveals a heart as sweet as his lips, she isn’t so sure she wants him to. Can she allow herself to fall for a man with an angel’s face—and a devil’s reputation …?
Benedict Harcourt, the Earl of Haslemere isn’t about to trust his precious sister and beloved nephew to some delicate chit who looks as if a stiff wind could send her sprawling—no matter how brilliant Georgiana is. Or beautiful. Or brave. Or lovable. Or irresistible. But does even he have the courage to fall for a young woman with the starry eyes of an innocent—and the unstoppable fierceness of a lioness? Only time, and taking a risk, will tell …
