A Lady's Deception

by Pamela Mingle

  When Jane returned, Eleanor informed her they would be leaving as soon as she could arrange for a private coach to convey them home.

  …

  Two days later

  Hugh had just come in from a long day of riding out to visit tenants with Ned. He was washing up, shirtless, clad only in a pair of buff britches. Although he was glad he’d taken the trouble to make the visits, he hadn’t been truly listening while Ned and various tenants pointed out improvements to land and buildings.

  He seemed to see Eleanor everywhere he looked and spent most of his time wondering what she and Lili were doing. Playing on the beach? Tending the rose garden? Or perhaps visiting Chichester. With time, these thoughts would probably taper off, or at least not be so distracting. Grabbing a linen cloth, he dried his face and hair. And then he heard a voice. It sounded like Eleanor. Perfect. Now he was hearing her as well as seeing her.

  “Hugh.”

  He swiveled about, and there she was, standing in the doorway, gazing intently at him. “Eleanor?” He fumbled with the drying cloth, finally tossing it aside. “I thought I was imagining things.”

  “No, you’re not. I’m here.”

  A piercing joy pulled hard across his chest. “I’m afraid you’ve caught me in the middle of my ablutions.”

  Eleanor moved toward him. She was wearing the blue dress, and it looked as though she’d forgotten her stays. “Why are you here?” he asked. “Was the cottage not to your liking?”

  “The cottage is perfect. But it was missing one thing.” Her smile was sweetly seductive.

  Now he took a tentative step toward her. “Oh? What was that?”

  “You,” she said, right before throwing herself into his arms.

  …

  She felt the rise and fall of his chest as his arms came around her.

  “My darling,” he said. “My love.” And then his lips settled on hers in a kiss that called her back to him. His soft, sensuous mouth devoured hers, and when his tongue slid along her lips, she opened her mouth to him. His fingers threaded through her hair, pulling pins out and dropping them to the floor. In another moment, he’d spun her around and was undoing the buttons marching down her back. Meanwhile, Eleanor explored him with her hands. His sinewy thighs. His rigid flesh. He kissed her nape. “What are you doing, minx?”

  “Mmm. You feel so good.”

  Hugh finished with the buttons, and the dress fell to the floor. With a soft chuckle he said, “Did you dress in a hurry, darling? Or did you leave your stays off deliberately?”

  “What do you think?”

  In a trice, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. He laid her down gently and slid her chemise down to her waist. Then he began to kiss her all over. Her world was distilled down to the essence of this place and this moment. The feel of him covering her body with his. The warmth and strength of him. She wanted to devour and be devoured.

  “You came back to me,” he said.

  “Yes.” With his longed-for touch and intimate caresses, all the tension drained from her.

  “I was afraid you might not. That I’d lost you forever.” Her skin was hot, burning for him, and he continued to kiss and caress her even while whispering to her. He paused to run a finger around her navel. “I don’t think I can live without you, love. Marry me. Please, Eleanor, marry me.”

  “Yes. Yes, of course I’ll marry you. Your letter…”

  He slid her chemise over her head, and she wrapped her legs around him. “It was from my heart.”

  “I know. Hush now, dear Hugh,” she said, pulling him down to her. She would have a lifetime of this joy. She would fall asleep beside him and wake up next to him. Oh, they were not perfect. They would argue and make up again. But they would have love and trust, and Lili would bind them always, and other children, if they were so blessed.

  And then she thought of nothing. She simply let herself be carried away to a place that was all sensation, a place where she could love him with her body, and her heart and soul.

  Later, they dozed in each other’s arms. When they woke, she cradled his face in her hands and kissed him. “I love you, Hugh Grey.”

  “You are my life, Eleanor. Don’t ever leave me again.”

  She smiled. “No.”

  The slant of the sun signaled late afternoon. Hugh stretched and then asked, “Where is Lili?”

  “With my parents. And they know I am with you.” She grasped his shoulders and kissed him soundly. “Thank you for the cottage.”

  “You approve of it, then.”

  “Being there is like living in a dream world, its perfection marred only by the fact that you weren’t there.”

  “We’ll keep it, in that case. Our hideaway.”

  “Your letter was so perfect.”

  “I could never seem to say what was in my heart when I was with you. I thought perhaps writing would do the trick.”

  Eleanor pressed her forehead against his. “I was beginning to think you would never be more to me than Lili’s father.” Then, hastily, “And that would have been wonderful, of course.”

  “Yes. Except we both would have been miserable.”

  Later, much later, they dressed and made their way to the Broxton home. It was deep twilight now, darkness falling over the land. Eleanor felt a quivering in her stomach when she glanced at Hugh. She hadn’t known it was possible to be this happy.

  “Is something wrong, love?”

  She squeezed his arm. “No. Quite the contrary. Everything is perfect.”

  Epilogue

  Three months later

  Flambeaux lit the stone gray facade of Longmere, casting shadows on the arriving guests. There was a prodigious number of them. Eleanor thought perhaps they’d invited the whole of Haslemere. Carriages lined the driveway, the coachmen warming themselves with flasks of their favorite spirits. Ned had hired extra grooms for the evening to help stable the mounts of those who had ridden.

  Eleanor and Hugh, rather than making use of the traditional receiving line, had chosen to simply circulate and greet people, and they had encouraged their families to do likewise. In the three months since their marriage, most of the gossip had died down. Some among the citizens of the area had decided the newlyweds were too scandalous to associate with, but no matter. Now they knew who their true friends were. Tonight’s soiree was to celebrate the completion of the rebuilding of Longmere rather than their nuptials, although many were offering their congratulations for those as well.

  Eleanor, sipping champagne, stood with Cassandra Grey, her new sister-in-law. Unashamedly, they were eyeing their husbands, deep in conversation nearby. “If Hugh hadn’t fallen in love with you, Eleanor, I’m not sure he would ever have reconciled with Adam and Deborah. Thank you for that.”

  Eleanor laughed. “My pleasure. It’s good to see them so comfortable with each other. Becoming close, as brothers were meant to be.”

  “They are a handsome pair, aren’t they?” Cass said.

  “Adam favors Deborah, and Hugh favors his father. But if you watch them together, you begin to see similar mannerisms. And expressions.”

  “And how are your parents handling things?” Cass had been aware of the difficulties between Eleanor and her mother, especially, and had lent a sympathetic ear when necessary.

  Casting her gaze about the room, Eleanor finally spotted them. They were talking with old friends from Haslemere and, on the surface at least, they appeared to be in a celebratory mood. Eleanor wasn’t certain her mother would ever forgive her for creating such a scandal. But both her mother and father had grown very fond of Lili and had been spending a great deal of time playing with her and sometimes taking her on small jaunts.

  “Much better than I could have hoped for.”

  Just then, Hugh glanced up at Eleanor, and a slow smile spread over his face. She smiled back. He spoke briefly to his brother, and they made their way to their wives. “Will you dance with me, Cassie?” Adam said, holding out his hand.


  When they left, Hugh said, “Well, Lady Grey, what do you think of our party?”

  She grasped his arm. “It is a rousing success, from the looks of it. Given our reputation, I’m amazed so many graced us with their presence.”

  “Some of them will dine out on our scandal for years to come.”

  “I don’t mind, if you don’t,” Eleanor said.

  Hugh gazed at her lovingly. Sometimes she fancied she still saw stars in his eyes. “Shall we dance, darling? It’s a waltz, and we practiced.”

  Eleanor smiled. “By all means. I’m sure everybody will be in awe of our grace and skill.”

  They joined the dance. After Hugh had taken her into his arms, he said, “Are you feeling quite well, love? You seem a bit out of sorts.”

  “Only a little tired. I am so grateful your mother and Cass came down to help us with the final preparations.”

  The musicians had set up in the upstairs gallery. The staff had set out food in the dining room, and guests could eat whenever they pleased. Some of the men had chosen to play cards. Meanwhile, those who wished to dance, or simply observe the dancers, indulged themselves.

  The corridors off the gallery led to the bedchambers. Eleanor had told Jane, who often helped with Lili, to bring her to them before putting her to bed. As Hugh twirled her around, Eleanor caught sight of them. Jane waved, trying to get her attention.

  “Oh, look, Hugh. There’s Lili. Let’s sneak off and kiss her good night.”

  They quit the dance floor and made their way toward their daughter, whose second birthday they’d celebrated in August. Hugh held out his arms, and Lili went to him. “Jane, why don’t you sneak downstairs to the kitchen and have some refreshments. We’ll put her to bed,” Eleanor said.

  “If you’re sure, ma’am. She’s had a story and I’ve rocked her. She’s sleepy.”

  Lili had made the switch to a real bed. She was indeed sleepy, her eyes closing as Hugh laid her down and covered her. Her long, dark lashes brushed her cheeks. Eleanor sat on one side of the bed and Hugh on the other. “I feel like the luckiest man in England,” he said, glancing at Lili, then over at Eleanor.

  “Hugh,” Eleanor whispered, leaning toward him. “I believe I am expecting another child.”

  He laughed softly. “I believe you are.”

  She pulled back, shocked. “What? How did you know?”

  He came around the bed to her side and raised her up. “You are looking quite voluptuous, my love. Did you think I would not notice?”

  “You scoundrel!” she said. “Are you glad?”

  “As I said, I’m the luckiest man in England.” He drew her into his arms.

  And she was the luckiest lady.

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  Acknowledgments

  As they say, it takes a village. Sincere thanks to my editor at Entangled Publishing, Erin Molta, for her insights and thoughtful comments and suggestions. A Lady’s Deception is a much stronger book because of her guidance. Thanks as well to Alethea Spiridon for taking a close look and to Nancy Cantor for her astute copyediting. I am most grateful to Holly Bryant Simpson, my enthusiastic and energetic publicist, and to everyone at Entangled involved in the design and production of the book. I would be remiss if I didn’t thank my critique partner of twelve years, Lisa Brown Roberts, who, despite her hectic schedule, always makes time to read my books. And last, huge thanks and hugs to my husband, Jim, my first reader and critic, and the person who never tires of listening to my book ideas, helping me work out plot problems, and bolstering me when I’ve lost my way.

  About the Author

  Pamela Mingle is a former teacher and librarian who made the switch to writing as a third career. She loves to create romantic tales that play out against historical events and always includes a bit of humor in her books. She and her husband enjoy walking in the UK—even though she’s done her share of whining on those fifteen-mile days. The walking trips have proved to be an ideal way to discover new settings for her books. Pam is the author of A False Proposal, The Pursuit of Mary Bennet, A Pride and Prejudice Novel, and Kissing Shakespeare, winner of the 2013 Colorado Book Award for Young Adult Fiction. Learn more about Pam and sign up for her newsletter at www.PamMingle.com. She enjoys hearing from readers and would love to meet you on social media.

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