by Shana Galen
“Not a chance,” Josie said, letting the curtain she was holding aside fall back into place. “Once we leave, you’ll convince Maddie this was a bad idea, and you’ll be gone.”
“This is a bad idea,” Maddie muttered. She was sitting on the edge of a chair beside the desk. Her hands were clamped in her lap. “I don’t need to be convinced of that.”
“Shh. I hear something!” Josie ran to the door and pressed her ear against it.
Catherine pushed a hand against her stomach. It bubbled and churned with panic. One, two, three…
“He’s coming,” Josie said, and all four girls quickly arranged themselves in the chairs before his desk. Then the door opened, and Spencer Perceval strode inside. He was followed by two aides and Mr. Hudson, the reporter from the Times. At least that would be one less stop on this ill-advised expedition.
Perceval halted in midstride halfway across his office. Catherine figured it took him that long to spot them because the room was dim.
“What the hell is this?” he demanded. He stopped abruptly, and one of the aides bumped into him.
“Ah—” Catherine tried to speak, but nothing more would come out.
Ashley jumped in. “We’re here on a diplomatic mission, Mr. Perceval.”
“A what?”
“Well, maybe that’s not exactly what it is,” Josie said, “but we need to talk to you.”
“Then make an appointment with my secretary.” He strode to the chair behind his desk and began straightening papers. “Now, get out.”
“Sir, if you could just give us one moment of your time. We’ve gone to a great deal of trouble to be here.” That was Maddie.
“I’ll say. How the hell did you get inside?”
“Sir, would you like me to fetch someone?” one of the aides asked.
“I—” Perceval was staring at Maddie. He narrowed his eyes. “Wait a moment. You’re Lord Castleigh’s daughter.” He looked at Ashley. “You’re Sir Gareth’s girl. And Miss Hale and”— he nodded at Catherine—“Lady Valentine. What are you ladies doing here? I thought you were a troop of gypsies.”
Catherine finally found her voice. “I know how we must look, but if you’ll just hear us out, we won’t ever bother you again. It’s a matter of great importance.”
“Let me guess. It has to do with your husband.”
Quint ran through the halls, sliding around the corner and into the prime minister’s office. Immediately, he noticed there was no secretary to stop him, no aide working at his desk. The door to the prime minister’s office was open, and he could hear a woman’s voice.
Catherine’s voice.
Quint rushed forward, then paused just inside the door. No one saw him. Hudson from the Times, the prime minister, Perceval’s aides, and Catherine’s three troublesome cousins were all looking at her.
“So you see,” she was saying, “Lord Valentine really does want the position. More than anything.”
Quint opened his mouth to protest, but no words came. There was something in Catherine’s voice that pierced him through to his soul. God, her actions here were rash and ill-advised, but she wanted to help. She cared enough about him to come here, dressed like a vagabond, and plead for him. He’d never known anyone to do something like this for him.
“He only pulled out because he was afraid this man”—she pointed at Hudson—“would write something bad about me. But I don’t care. I’d rather Quint took the post. He’s the best man for the job.”
Quint’s gut twisted. She really had faith in him, and she was wiling to sacrifice her own reputation to ensure he had his career. His bloody career that meant so little to him compared to her. He didn’t deserve her.
The prime minister glanced at the reporter. “Is that true, Mr. Hudson? Did you threaten to print a negative article about Lady Valentine?”
“No! Well, not exactly, sir.”
Perceval held up an imperious hand. “We will talk later, Mr. Hudson.” He looked back at Catherine and sat back in his chair. “This doesn’t change the fact that Valentine stole my carriage.”
“It was a rash decision,” Catherine answered quickly. “And a rare one. Please don’t hold that against him. He has worked so hard for this position. He wants it more than anything else in the world.”
“That’s not true,” Quint said. He couldn’t allow her to continue. This was not her battle, and he wouldn’t let her fight it for him. All heads swiveled to stare at him.
“Quint,” Catherine gasped. “What are you doing here?”
“He has an appointment,” one of the aides remarked, consulting a paper.
Quint strode forward and took his wife’s hands. They were as warm as her honey hazel eyes. He wanted to take her in his arms and keep her there forever. “The true question, Catie, is why are you here? I came this morning to tell Mr. Perceval that I don’t want the position. It doesn’t matter to me anymore.”
“But you’ve worked so hard for it.”
He cupped her face. God, was anything as precious to him as she? He loved her so much now it almost hurt. “Meaningless work when it took me away from you. I belong with you, Catie. I love you.”
He heard a sob and saw Madeleine dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve. She waved his attention back to Catherine. His wife’s eyes were filled with tears as well. “Do you mean that?” Catherine whispered. “Do you really love me?”
“With all my heart. I’ve never loved any woman until I met you.”
Catherine launched herself into his arms, holding him so tightly he lost his breath. “I love you, too. You know I love you.”
“Well,” the prime minister said, banging on his desk, “now that we have that established, can I get back to work?”
“Absolutely,” Quint said. “Just one more thing.” And then he bent to kiss the woman he loved.
Epilogue
Article from the Times by Mr. Hudson
PERCEVAL CHOOSES
NEW CABINET MINISTER
In these days of foreign and domestic unrest, the choice of a Cabinet minister is not a simple commission. Our illustrious prime minister was recently faced with exactly that difficult decision. As our faithful readers know, both Mr. Charles Fairfax and Quint Childers, Lord Valentine, were under consideration for the post. Early this morning, Mr. Perceval selected Lord Valentine to fill the position.
The choice may come as a surprise to those in attendance at Lord Valentine’s ball last night. Rumors flew that Lord Valentine was no longer seeking the post, and guests reported that a fistfight broke out between Lady Valentine and her younger sister, Miss Elizabeth Fullbright. Indeed, some sources testify that Lord Valentine absconded from the ball in Mr. Perceval’s own coach.
Despite the uproar, it appears Mr. Perceval would not be swayed in his decision. He said in his statement, “Lord Valentine will make a competent, reliable Cabinet minister.”
When asked about the earl’s erratic behavior of the night before, Perceval answered, “Let those among you who have not been in love, cast the first stone.” This reporter will hold on to his pebbles.
“That’s a lovely article,” Catherine said. “I have it memorized now, but there is still one question I need answered.”
Quint tossed the paper aside and leaned back in bed, beside his warm, naked wife. “And what is that, sweetling?”
“Will you take the position? You know I want you to.”
“I am thinking about it,” he answered, pulling her close and reaching under the covers, “but I think I may need one more dose of your excellent persuading.”
“Then you shall have it, Mr. Cabinet Minister.”
Acknowledgments
Gratitude, love, and thanks to:
Christina Hergenrader and Courtney Burkholder for working with me on this book.
May Chen for your brilliant editing and helpful suggestions.
Evan Fogelman—you’re an awesome agent and, more importantly, a good friend.
About the Author
&
nbsp; SHANA GALEN is a former public school teacher in Houston, Texas. Newly married, Shana lives with her husband and two cats. She writes almost full time, which requires daily trips to the mall because shopping is the only activity that really allows her to think. (That’s her story, and she’s sticking to it!) Check out the latest news and diversions at www.shanagalen.com.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
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Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
NO MAN’S BRIDE. Copyright © 2006 by Shane Bolks. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
ePub edition August 2006 ISBN 9780061750854
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