by Joanna Shupe
“A grand adventure that would lead to marriage.”
“Yes, I had hoped. In addition to skirting the scandal, I thought you might find a husband here unimpeded, a man who loved you and would make you happy. And I must say that Hatcher is an excellent choice.”
“You approve of him? I had thought . . .” I had thought you would hate him.
“He had a wild enough reputation to scare your father into bringing you home?” he finished, tilting his chin in that familiar scholarly way of his. “Hatcher’s not as wild as everyone thinks. The man’s taken some knocks in his life and yet look where he ended up.” He indicated the room, the big mansion. “Loyal to a fault, a wizard with stocks, and intelligent as well. Even if I hadn’t seen the way he looked at you a few moments ago, I would have known you two were perfect for each other.”
“So you . . . knew about Julius? About my plan to get summoned home?”
“I’ve known from the beginning.” He chuckled at her expression. “You don’t honestly believe I was unaware of all you were doing here in New York, do you? Your aunt may be exactly like you, but that’s what makes her the perfect spy.”
A spy! Nora’s mouth fell open. “You had Aunt Bea spying on me?”
“Yes, a role she relished, I must tell you. The woman could have had a stellar career working for the crown—now don’t be cross with her. She reported on you at my request.”
“She told me you hadn’t asked after me.”
He patted her hand where it rested on the sofa—a stunning show of emotion from him. “I asked her to keep my involvement a secret. I knew you would chafe at my meddling in your affairs.”
All of this was causing her head to spin. So much had been kept from her. “Yet you did meddle by offering Robert money to stay away from me.”
“Indeed, I did and I would gladly do it again. After you left, I learned unpleasant things about that boy and grew concerned. He was raised in the foundling hospital, you know, and there had been recurring problems with his behavior over the years. They let him come back as a way to keep an eye on him, keep him on the straight and narrow. Do you understand?”
She nodded, the news not entirely surprising after last evening’s events. “He was responsible for the fire at Julius’s theater.”
“I read that. It’s a terrible tragedy and I feel partly to blame. I wasn’t having him watched carefully enough and he disappeared. However, your aunt assured me there’d been no sign of Robert here in New York and you were happy with Hatcher, so I boarded a ship without cabling anyone of the possible danger. I never thought something like this would happen.”
A knock sounded an instant before Julius poked his head inside. “Everything all right?”
“Yes,” Nora told him, touched he’d come to check on her.
Her father took Nora’s arm and pulled them both to their feet. “I must get to my hotel and send some cables. I shall see you both later this afternoon.”
“This afternoon?” Nora asked with a quick glance in Julius’s direction. What was happening this afternoon?
“For the wedding.” The earl bent to kiss her cheek. “I still care about your reputation, you know.” He strode toward the door, pulling on his gloves as he went. “We’ll discuss terms later, Hatcher?”
“Yes, sir.”
With a final nod, the earl disappeared, leaving Nora and Julius alone. Julius came over, placed his hands on Nora’s shoulders, and dropped a quick kiss on her mouth. “How do you feel?”
She grinned, the wide smile threatening to split her face in two. “Like I cannot wait for this afternoon.”
Epilogue
September 1890
In the end, they married twice.
The first time was the afternoon after her father arrived when they officially married in front of just the earl, Frank Tripp, and Nora’s aunt and uncle. Julius had been so sure, so steadfast, his voice clear and strong as he pledged to love her until his dying breath. Nora could tear up merely remembering the moment.
And now, in front of all New York society, they were “married” inside St. Bartholomew’s Church on Madison Avenue. Crowds had lined the street, eager to see the bon vivant bridegroom and his English bride. Yet no one but those few present at the first ceremony had any idea this was a second wedding.
Nora leaned over to where her husband reclined in his chair, relaxed as he watched over the revelry at their wedding reception. “Tell me again why we needed a second wedding?”
Bright blue eyes met hers, a small smile playing around his sinful mouth. “I’m not allowing you to miss out on a proper wedding merely because I dove under your skirts a minute after we met.”
“I am quite grateful you dove under my skirts,” she murmured, hooking her foot around his leg under the dining table. “I’m hopeful you’ll dive again as soon as I can get you alone.”
“That’ll be sooner than you think if you keep that up, Mrs. Hatcher.”
Her foot slid higher, stroking his calf. “Promise?”
He swallowed hard, his lids falling briefly to shield his gaze. “Behave, Nora. I want you to enjoy being the center of attention today. To celebrate with all of New York, as is your right as the daughter of an earl.”
Oh, this again? “I don’t need fanfare. In truth, I believe you are the one who wanted to hold the outrageous wedding and reception.”
“I do love a good party.” He threw her a smirk, the rogue. Nora’s insides simmered, the need for him a constant hum under her skin. Would this reception never end?
They had lived apart the entire summer, under her aunt’s insistence. Aunt Bea said no one knew of the marriage and appearances had to be maintained, even in New York. Since April, all she and Julius had managed were stolen hours in a race to touch and feel, drown themselves in pleasure before returning to the charade of a betrothed couple.
But this last week apart had been torture. Wedding guests and preparation had precluded any contact whatsoever.
“Julius, have pity on your bride. I haven’t seen you or touched you in six days. I’ve missed you.”
Shifting, he put his mouth near her ear. “My cock has been hard since you walked down the aisle. I don’t think I can stand without embarrassing myself.”
“There you two are!”
Nora jerked away from her husband and found Aunt Bea beside them, Uncle James at her side. The couple appeared positively gleeful. “Hello,” Nora said. “Are you both having fun?”
“This is unbelievable,” her aunt said. “Positively over-the-top. The moat full of English roses . . . the giant ice sculpture castle . . . the entertainments in nearly every room . . . Mr. Louis Sherry here himself to oversee the food! Good heavens, they’ll be talking of this wedding for years.”
Julius’s mouth hitched in what Nora recognized as satisfaction. Her husband had wanted to make a point today . . . and he’d clearly made it.
A trio of women approached—Julius’s mother and sisters. Two of the women looked quite miserable. “Julius, I believe we’ll return to the hotel,” his mother said. “This is too—”
Nora cleared her throat meaningfully, catching Mrs. Hatcher’s eye, and the older woman blinked as she reconsidered her comment. “This is too late for us.”
It was four o’clock in the afternoon.
Still, Nora had to give Mrs. Hatcher credit for attempting to spare her son’s feelings. It was a start. Julius rose and took her arm. “Of course. Nora, I’ll just see them into a carriage—”
“Julius, why don’t I see your family off? You can settle things down here and then meet me in the turret.”
His nostrils flared slightly and he nodded. “I’ll be there.”
Nora excused herself to her aunt and uncle while Julius gave his good-byes to his family. Nora then escorted the Hatcher women through the house and to the front entrance. She nodded and greeted guests as they went, turning down glasses of champagne thrust at her from all directions. A footman ran to fetch Julius’s carriage, leav
ing the four women standing together.
Nora crossed her arms over her chest. “I trust we understand each other?” She stared each of them in the eye.
“No criticisms or complaints in his presence,” Agatha said. “We understand.”
“Very good. Because if any of you break that promise, I’ll be forced to break mine.”
Earlier in the summer Nora had done a little discreet digging into the lives of the two Hatcher women in Albany. It turned out they had become friendly with a local reverend who’d taken to exploiting Mrs. Hatcher’s zealous religious beliefs and Agatha’s loneliness over the last few years. He’d collected their money—really Julius’s money—by convincing them it was evil. Persuaded them to take in boarders and donate the money to the church. Had very likely manipulated Agatha into an affair.
Using her status, a large donation, and Frank Tripp’s keen legal mind, Nora had managed to get the reverend assigned to a small parish in Indiana. She then promised to keep what she knew from her husband . . . as long as Mrs. Hatcher and Agatha treated him politely and with respect. If they didn’t, Julius would sell the house in Albany and there would be no more money or assistance, ever. The women had readily agreed.
She could not repair a mother’s relationship with her son, but she could damn well try to keep them from hurting one another further.
The carriage arrived and Nora bade them good-bye. She breathed a sigh of relief, eager to get to the turret and to her husband. She wouldn’t even bother changing out of her elaborate Worth wedding dress.
The east wing had been closed off to the guests, so the corridors were deserted as Nora lifted her skirts and dashed along the carpets. She opened the door and started climbing the stairs that led to the turret. There were . . . petals on the steps. Pink rose petals, exactly like the flowers filling the moat. The higher she climbed, the more petals appeared. Her husband, the surprising romantic. She bit her lip in anticipation, heart thumping in time with her feet.
At the top, the petals continued in a line across the floor, all the way to the window seat, where a very naked, very aroused handsome man awaited her.
He’d trailed the petals up onto his flat stomach.
She came to the window seat and gazed down adoringly at the banquet of male beauty stretched out before her. Long limbs, lean muscles, light crisp hair dusting his skin . . . Her mouth watered at the sight, lust swift and fierce in her belly.
While he might be the prettiest man she knew, that wasn’t why she loved him. There were a hundred small details that made him the man he was, utterly unique, and one entirely perfect for her. She reached for a petal and slowly swept it up over his chest. “Subtle.”
He shivered, gooseflesh rising in the wake of the petal. “I thought as much.”
“I love you, you insane and generous man.”
Turning sober, he clasped her hand on his chest, holding it against his warm skin. “I never wanted you to regret marrying me. You deserve to have the wedding every girl dreams about.”
She shook her head. “I never dreamed about a wedding. That never mattered to me. I dreamed of a husband, one who would be kind and intelligent. Decent. Someone to make me laugh.”
“And handsome.”
“And handsome,” she agreed through a chuckle. “I have every one of those things. That’s all I need—you are all I need.”
“You humble me, Mrs. Hatcher. I love you, and I’ll marry you as many times as you like. As long as you stay mine.”
“I’m yours, though I do wish the groom would get on with the wedding night.”
In a flash, he sat up and snatched her, bringing her down until her back was on the seat, her legs over his thighs. She frowned. “What are you doing? Help me out of my gown first.”
“Not just yet, my love. There was some discussion earlier regarding your skirts.” He began flicking layers of silk off her legs, uncovering her one bit at a time. “I believe I have a promise to uphold.”
Acknowledgments
I have long been fascinated by the opulence, excess, and wealth of the Gilded Age elite. Nothing was too outrageous or too costly for this select group, and they hosted events I couldn’t begin to make up. For example, the party on horseback actually happened at Sherry’s Restaurant in 1903. (Search the photo on the Internet. It’s hilarious.)
The “Four Hundred” refers to the top four hundred members of New York society, as decided by Ward McAllister, a partner-in-crime to reigning social queen Mrs. Astor. This was supposedly the number of people Mrs. Astor’s ballroom could accommodate.
This story could not have happened without the guidance and support of so many. Thanks to Tessa Woodward, without whom this book wouldn’t exist. I’m so grateful for her advice, ideas, and love of this time period. Also thanks to the entire Avon Books team for shepherding this book into the world and getting it into the hands of readers.
To Laura Bradford, who never sugarcoats anything, and I love her for it. To Michele, Dora, and Julie—my eternal gratitude for the laughs, long talks, and advice. Also to Janet, Maria, RoseAnn, and Tina for always having my back. Thanks to Lin—I’m so lucky to have you in my life! And thanks to the Gilded Lilies, who share my enthusiasm and excitement about the Gilded Age on a daily basis.
To my husband, daughters, parents, and family, who are all endlessly supportive and make this writing career possible. I love you all.
Lastly, thanks to the readers! Thank you for supporting romance and allowing me the privilege of creating these characters for you. It really is the best job in the world.
A Scandalous Deal
Coming soon from Joanna Shupe,
the next scintillating Gilded Age romance in her Four Hundred series
A SCANDALOUS DEAL
Pre-order today!
About the Author
Joanna Shupe has always loved history, ever since she saw her first Schoolhouse Rock cartoon. While in college, Joanna read every romance she could get her hands on and soon started crafting her own racy historical novels. In 2013, she won Romance Writers of America’s prestigious Golden Heart® Award for Best Historical. She now lives in New Jersey with her two spirited daughters and dashing husband. To connect with Joanna, visit JoannaShupe.com.
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By Joanna Shupe
The Four Hundred series
A Daring Arrangement
The Knickerbocker Club series
Magnate
Baron
Mogul
Tycoon
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.
a daring arrangement. Copyright © 2017 by Joanna Shupe. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, 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 hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins Publishers. For information, address HarperCollins Publishers, 195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007.
Digital Edition NOVEMBER 2017 ISBN: 978-0-06-267890-4
Print Edition ISBN: 978-0-06-267889-8
Cover illustration by FictionArtist.com.
first edition
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