The Loving Seasons

by Laura Matthews

  “Bleating? Now you listen to me, my girl—" He stopped, arrested by what he had just absorbed. “Lord Bradwell? Here? I don’t believe it."

  “Nonetheless, it’s the truth. He arrived quite unexpectedly late last night. Do you know, he hasn’t even a key to the door, or at least he couldn’t be bothered to use it. He brought Aunt Amelia the drawings she had requested from Somerset.”

  “Your bamming me. The man hasn’t been in town for twenty years."

  “He is now, and I do wish you would keep your voice down. He may not approve of my having a gentleman in my room at this hour of the morning.”

  “He shouldn’t approve of your having a gentleman in your room at any hour,” Dunn grunted, looking about him for a chair When he found none to his liking, he sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed. “It took me hours—hours, Emma—to figure out what you were talking about last night. At first I thought you meant that Amelia would not approve of me as a suitor for you, but that seemed utter nonsense. She has encouraged me all along. And then I thought that perhaps you didn’t want to leave her alone, since she has seemed anything but happy recently. The talk of seeing me in the hall was what was so damnably confusing. I could not for the life of me think what hall you referred to, or why it should have made the least difference what hall you saw me in.”

  “The hall was quite dark at the time," Emma confessed.

  “I should hope so, for you never saw me in any hall in this house—except for the entry hall." He was completely baffled by her lack of interest in his denials. She sat there smiling quite angelically at him. "The reason it took me so long to understand what you meant was because it was such a ludicrous idea. Emma, I am not now and have never been your aunt's lover."

  "I know."

  "Then what did you mean by that piece of flummery last night?"

  Emma clasped her hands together in her lap. "Last night I thought you were my aunt's lover and this morning I know you aren't. I happened to see the gentleman in question a little better this time. He does bear a resemblance to you."

  Dunn pursed his lips. "Hatton."

  She smiled at him as though he were a very bright pupil but said, "I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to disclose his identity."

  "Did Lord Bradwell happen to arrive at a particularly inauspicious moment?" he asked doubtfully.

  "It could have been worse. The gentleman was forced to take refuge in Miss Rogers's room, which in this particular instance must have been rather awkward for him, since he had just told me he intended to offer for her."

  Dunn shook his head in amazement. "I should have loved to be here."

  "I wish you had been."

  The teasing tone was nicely calculated to return his mind to more important matters. "Do you?" He lifted her clasped hands to his lips. "I still find it difficult to believe you thought I was involved with your aunt."

  "Nick did, too. He had seen...the other gentleman entering the house one night some years ago. That was why Nick was making such a nuisance of himself when you were...paying a little attention to me."

  Exasperated, Dunn asked, "And was it why he offered to marry you?"

  Emma laughed. "Heaven forbid. He offered to marry me because I am such a desirable catch...and because he found me crying one day. I think he's a little vulnerable to tears, but I shouldn't want to have to cry all the time."

  "I promise you won't have to," he told her as he drew her to him.

  But she put a hand against his chest, suddenly serious. "I...I don’t know how much you saw. I was very lonely, Dunn. We never...”

  He placed a finger against her lips. “I can’t say I don’t care, but I don’t want you to tell me. Have you forgotten you are speaking to a man who is written up in a courtesan’s memoirs?"

  “Her most passionate, gentlest lover.” Emma sighed as she received one of his most passionate, gentle kisses. And she could understand the difference Miss Eliza Livingstone had obviously sought to describe. Where there was love, there was more than the simple “lure of the flesh” she had experienced with Nick. There was a wholeness, a rightness, a blending far beyond what she had dared hope. “Oh, Dunn, what a lot of time I’ve wasted for us.”

  “We’ll make it up, my love.”

  Emma drew away from him when a discreet tap sounded on the door. “Who is it?”

  “Amelia, dear.”

  “Come In.”

  If Emma had expected her aunt to look haggard, she was enormously surprised. Amelia entered, cast a curious glance at Dunn, and smiled. She was positively radiant. “I see Susan did not misstate the case. She was worried for your virtue, dear."

  “Susan will go far," Emma retorted.

  Dunn rose to take Amelia’s hand. “I hope you have no objection to my marrying your niece.”

  “He’s a much better catch than Sir Nicholas,” Emma interjected.

  Her aunt ignored her and kissed Dunn’s cheek. “I had begun to think the two of you would never manage on your own. To think of all the times I made such a point of letting you know just which entertainments we were to attend, for all the good it did. Of course, you have my blessing. Did Emma tell you that Felix has come?”

  “Yes.” He eyed her with interest. “You seem quite pleased about it.”

  “Pleased? I had nearly despaired of him. When he kicked up such a fuss about my going to London this spring, I was sure everything would be all right, but he’s a stubborn man. Look how many weeks it has taken him to follow. Now I ask you, is two months in town so dreadful a fate? He knew I had to see Emma settled. Heavens, now that it’s done he will probably expect me to go back with him tomorrow.” She gave a little moue of disappointment.

  “Surely he will have to stay for the wedding. We’ll plan it for the very end of the season,” Dunn promised her.

  “Excellent. Now I don’t wish to sound prudish, Dunn, but I do think you should give Emma a chance to dress.” And she floated out of the room without waiting for a response.

  “Do you want to get dressed?” he asked her as he resumed his seat on the bed and drew her to him.

  It was impossible to answer with his lips on hers, she decided. And she had no wish to answer when his touch made her body warm with desire. His strong, capable hands stroked her hair, her shawl-covered shoulders, her skin. What was it he had asked her? Oh, yes, did she want to get dressed. His lips were now caressing the rapid pulse in her throat and she murmured, “Soon.”

  Copyright © 1983 by Elizabeth Walker

  Originally published by Dell

  Electronic edition published in 2000 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the publisher. For more information, contact Belgrave House, 190 Belgrave Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94117-4228

  http://www.RegencyReads.com

  Electronic sales: ebooks@regencyreads.com

  This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.