Her Perfect Gentleman: A Regency Romance Anthology

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  After they were fed, they adjourned into the music room as Lady Clarence entertained them with her singing. Morgan tried to act interested, but he wanted to gaze upon the lovely lady by his side. She looked so adorable in the peach colored gown with the low-cut bodice. As he studied her, he couldn’t believe he ever mistook her for a boy. She had all the right curves, and they were in all the right places. Her skin was so creamy and smooth, and her eyelashes so long, and her lips so full. Indeed, he couldn’t believe she was able to pass herself off as a blacksmith for so long. People were definitely blind, and only saw what they wanted to see.

  She glanced his way briefly before looking back at Lady Clarence. “Mr. Drake,” she said softly, “you are focused on the wrong woman.”

  “Quite the contrary, my dear.” He leaned closer to her ear. “I’m focusing on the right woman. I just didn’t realize it until now.”

  She hitched a small breath as she swung her wide eyes toward him. She didn’t say anything, just gazed at him as if she was really studying him. His heartbeat hammered fast, knowing what he’d said was exactly what he felt. Indeed, she was the right woman for him.

  For years, he’d put aside any kind of permanent relationship with a woman because he didn’t want to settle down. He didn’t think his profession would allow him to marry and have children. And yet, after meeting Miss Melinda Stewart, his thoughts were changing. He could imagine her in his life…on his arm as his wife, bearing his children, and growing old with him. Just thinking about this made his heart light with hope. His future definitely looked brighter.

  Melinda’s expression softened, and when her attention dropped to his mouth, his heartbeat knocked an insane rhythm against his ribs. Suddenly, he wished they were not at this social. He wanted to be alone with her, sharing this moment with her in private. Would he be too bold if he suggested they leave?

  The longer she stared at his lips, the more he wanted to kiss her. On instinct, he slowly leaned toward her. Everyone in the room disappeared and the singing suddenly faded. To him, the only thing that mattered was Melinda, and the only music in his head was violins and harps.

  “Morgan, no,” she whispered and quickly turned her head, looking to the front of the room where Lady Clarence continue to sing.

  Humiliation swept over him…and he wasn’t an easy man to embarrass, either. Yet, he knew better. He knew to wait until they were alone before trying to kiss her again. Groaning, he rubbed his forehead. “Forgive me for being hasty.” And extremely foolish!

  Not another word was said between them until after the program was over, and the magistrate’s guests were standing and moving to fetch their cloaks.

  “I’m ready to leave. Are you?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She offered a small smile.

  He hurried to collect their cloaks, wondering what kind of explanation he would give her once they were inside the coach. He could tell her the truth—that her beauty has mesmerized him and left him enchanted. Yet, just thinking about saying that made him feel like a weakling. Morgan had never been that way, and he certainly didn’t want a woman—mainly Melinda—thinking of him as a dandy sort of fellow.

  After saying goodbye to the hosts, he hooked Melinda’s arm with his and headed outside toward the waiting coaches. Anticipation made him want to hurry his step, but he kept his gait casual.

  By the time they arrived at the vehicle, his heartbeat hammered so fast, he wondered if something might be wrong with him. He assisted Melinda inside before climbing in. Instead of sitting in the middle of the bench, Melinda sat closer to the wall. To him, this encouraged him to sit beside her.

  The coach lurched into motion, but Morgan felt so scatter-brained. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this nervous about being alone with a woman. What was so different now? Unless, it was because his emotions were clogging his mind with how he wanted to spend his future—and with whom.

  “It was a lovely evening,” she said sweetly as she toyed with the edge of her shawl. “The food and the entertainment were just remarkable.”

  “Indeed. Earlier tonight, I had thought the same thing.” He smiled.

  “You did?” She looked up at him with a lifted eyebrow. Her expression was playful. “I wouldn’t have thought you even noticed Lady Clarence.”

  Chuckling, he took her hand in his. “It was hard to notice Lady Clarence, especially when you were the loveliest woman in the room and I could not bring myself to look at anyone else.”

  Her cheeks grew dark pink. “Oh, Mr. Drake, I fear you are being too forward with your flattery.”

  “Too bold?” He shook his head. “I don’t think I’m being bold enough, especially when the only thing that has been on my mind since we locked gazes during her song, was taking you in my arms and kissing you passionately.”

  Her bosom rose and fell quicker, and his breathing grew ragged, as well.

  “Mr. Drake, that is very bold.”

  “Yes, I know.” He stroked her heated cheek. “But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, especially since we kissed.”

  Her throat lurched, and he heard her hard swallow. “I must admit, that has also been on my mind quite a bit.”

  He cupped her face. “So you don’t mind if I kiss you again?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Mr. Drake, one does not ask to be kissed—or to do the kissing. Women enjoy spontaneous kisses.”

  “Melinda, why are you calling me Mr. Drake? I insist you call me Morgan.”

  “You insist?”

  Chuckling, he nodded. “Well, nicely, of course.”

  She shrugged. “I suppose, since you asked nicely, I have no other choice…Morgan.”

  He rubbed the pads of his thumbs over her cheeks. The moment to kiss her had been a few seconds ago, and he feared they had passed that magical moment. Whatever he did, he must get them back to that mood.

  The coach bounced them on the seat in a steady rhythm. But when the wheel hit a dip in the road, the vehicle tilted slightly, which brought her sliding against him. She sucked in a quick breath and placed her hand on his chest. He took advantage of the moment, sliding his arms around her waist.

  Having her this close to him, he could smell her strawberry scented hair and skin. She’d eaten grapes sometime tonight, and he wanted to kiss her to see if he could taste the berry on her tongue. His heartbeat quickened in anticipation.

  As he stared into her eyes, she lowered her gaze to his mouth and licked her lips. Excitement jumped inside of him. Apparently, she was anticipating the moment, as well.

  He gulped down a hard swallow and licked his lips. “Melinda, tonight, your beauty had me enthralled—”

  In an instant, she closed the space between them and pressed her mouth against his. Her action took him off guard, and he inhaled sharply, but immediately, heat rushed through him, melting him quickly. He didn’t waste time in meeting her urgent kisses. In moments, he tasted the grapes, just as he’d wanted.

  A low moan released from her, and she rubbed her palms in small circles. Her touch, her kiss, her very breath melding with his, caused such havoc inside of him, he lost all of his thoughts. Melinda—and only her—was all that filled his mind.

  Her shawl slipped down her arms, which gave him access to caress her bare shoulders and neck. Her skin was just as creamy as he remembered. And her soft body cuddled nicely against his. Yet, as urgency rushed through him, he realized he didn’t want to just cuddle. He wanted more from her. Much more.

  Pressing her up against the side of the wall, he trailed his lips from her mouth, down her neck…the neck he’d been studying so closely during Lady Clarence’s song. Melinda’s skin tasted like raspberries for some reason, but he couldn’t get enough. Throaty moans exited her throat as she tilted her head, giving him better access as her hands clutched at his waist-jacket, keeping him from moving away. But why would he? Nothing could pull him from her—

  The vehicle jerked to a stop, nearly unseating both of them. Morgan scrambled to keep from fall
ing to the floor, and Melinda struggled to sit upright, adjusting the shawl back over her shoulders.

  He held in the curse words he felt like spouting, only because he didn’t want her to think any less of him. But blast it all, why did they have to arrive at her house this quickly? If he’d been thinking earlier, he would have told the driver to take them around town a few times before delivering her home.

  Once they were both sitting, and not fidgeting, Morgan looked at Melinda. Her lips were still swollen from when they were kissing, making him want to take her back in his arms and continue.

  She smiled up at him, and shook her head. “I think I’m home.”

  He laughed. “You are.”

  “I should tell you what a wonderful night I’ve had, but…I think you already know that.”

  “I do.” He took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. “And spending the evening with you made my day that much better.”

  “You are so sweet.” She sighed heavily. “I suppose I should go inside now.” She moved as if she was going to get out.

  “Before you do,” he pulled on her arm, keeping her beside him, “I want to know if you’ve decided anything yet.”

  She titled her head and narrowed her gaze on him. “What am I supposed to have decided?”

  “About my offer, of course.” He stroked her hand. “We have grown close over these past few days, and I hope you were seriously thinking about my offer. I truly believe I can help you. The money will help you and Jake, and—”

  “Stop right there.”

  He froze. The tone of her voice wasn’t soft and sweet like it had been a second ago. And the way she looked at him had changed, as well. Now she practically glared. Oh, no!

  “You honestly thought,” she began in a tight voice, “that you could woo me, and charm me into submission?”

  “What?” He shook his head. “Of course not, Melinda. I just want you to see that my offer isn’t as terrible as you’d once thought.”

  “Oh!” She yanked her hand away from him. “I don’t know why you make me repeat myself, Mr. Drake, but I will not accept your offer.” She pointed toward the window of the coach which overlooked her home and shop. “My father gave his blood, sweat, and tears to try to build this place. It was his dream. He worked hard to buy this land, and even harder to keep it. What makes you think I will sell it to the likes of you? Mr. Drake, you have never cared about anyone else or anything else but making money. Well, I’m not like you. I take pride in what my family has done to make this a great blacksmith shop, and I swear to you on my father’s grave, I will not give up this land for anything! Especially, not for a man who thinks so much of himself to believe I’ll bend just because he has swoon-worthy kisses.”

  Inwardly, he groaned. She was taking this all out of context. However, now was not the time to argue. By now he knew her well enough not to try and convince her of anything. He’d wait until she cooled down.

  Sighing in defeat—at least for now—he opened the coach’s door and stepped out. As he helped her down, she wouldn’t meet his eyes. His heart twisted in agony, knowing he’d caused her pain in some way. But this was far from over. No matter what it took, he must soften her heart.

  The Sweetest Challenge: Chapter Nine

  Melinda hadn’t slept well last night, but she still dressed for work even though her headache tried to keep her in bed. Memories from last night with Morgan rushed back and shame quickly filled her. It had been such a wonderful, exciting moment to be wrapped in Morgan’s intimate embrace, only to have it end so terribly. Her broken heart would never heal, she was certain of it.

  As she wrapped her hair in a bun and placed her headgear over it, Morgan’s words echoed in her head. He’d said such tender endearments to her. Would she ever forget, or would she spend the rest of her life reliving their magical moments and wishing he was different?

  Perhaps there was a reason she’d disliked him at first. If so, why had he softened her heart? Loving him was such a challenge, and she feared, the emotions he instilled inside of her were too difficult for her to handle. Indeed, it was better that they ended this way. If he had continued to charm her, she just might have given in.

  She left her room and walked to the shop. As she opened the door, she heard the gentle tone of someone humming. She scrunched her forehead. Was that Jake? Nah, why would he be in a light-hearted mood?

  Taking soft steps, she crept toward her brother who was bent over a wagon repairing the seat. He hadn’t noticed her yet, so she stalled and silently watched him work. His humming quickly turned into whistling. She couldn’t stop the smile from pulling at her mouth. It made her happy to see that he’d adapted to his job so quickly. Perhaps he had missed working being laid up with an injured leg. Their father had taught them all he knew. Melinda was relieved to see her brother enjoy doing the same trade as their father had done for many years.

  She leaned against a shelf, but she forgot her own strength when her hip knocked one of the tools off. Inwardly, she cringed. She had wanted to continue watching her brother for a few minutes longer.

  He jerked upright and looked at her with wide eyes. Within seconds, his shoulders relaxed and he blew out a gush of air between his teeth.

  “Mel? What are you doing? I thought you were going to start acting like a lady now.”

  Her gut twisted. As much as she wanted to act like a lady, she couldn’t allow Morgan Drake to get the best of her. “I will, just not today. I shall help you around the shop.”

  He shook his head and motioned with his hands for her to leave. “I don’t need your help. I’m fine.”

  “But I’m sure you are behind because of yesterday—”

  “I am, but it’s not that bad.” He frowned. “Please, Mel. Let me do this by myself.”

  She didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts today, and yet she didn’t want to cause problems for her brother. If he was excited about working again, she didn’t want to ruin him. He must keep believing in himself.

  “Then I shall leave.” She nodded and turned.

  As she made her way back through the house, she took off her head gear and scrambled to think of what to do to keep herself busy. When she passed her father’s desk, she suddenly remembered finding that map…the treasure map.

  Her heartbeat sped up again. She needed to discover if this treasure was real, after all. If it was, it would definitely save their land and their shop. If the treasure wasn’t real, then at least she had put her mind to good use while trying to search for it.

  It didn’t take her long to change her clothes from the pair of pants into a day dress, before she hurried out of her room with the treasure map in her hand. She was outside searching and didn’t want people to drive by and see her in man’s clothing. With her wearing a dress, they would just think she was out and about picking weeds or something. At least she hoped that’s what they’d think. She was quite sure they’d laugh at her if they knew she was searching for treasure.

  She quickly located a shovel before studying the map closely, and slowly walking in the direction she thought the map was showing her. Yet, when she reached a large oak tree, she knew this couldn’t possibly be the way. Retracting her steps once more, she started over, but counting them out this time. Still, the map kept on leading her back to the tree.

  Growling, she placed her hands on her hips and studied the ground for a moment before looking back at the map. This tree had been here for decades, so she highly doubted someone had actually buried treasure underneath. That would mean chopping down the tree and digging out the stump just to see if there was something under the ground. Would someone really have done that? And what would people think if they passed her while she was chopping up the tree? They’d definitely suspect she’d gone mad, and she couldn’t have them thinking that.

  She blew out a frustrated breath and leaned against the tree. There must be something she was missing. As she studied the map once again, she tried to contemplate what that missing element was,
but nothing sprang to mind.

  Although the map looked old, she didn’t believe it was ancient. Drawings on the map were of hills and trees and even what looked to be a little pond… She glanced back across the land. A pond? She didn’t recall there ever being a pond on their land. Did that mean the treasure wasn’t buried here? And yet, the other things looked familiar.

  The longer she pondered the location of the map, dejection washed over her. Perhaps this wasn’t the land at all. What if the treasure had been buried hundreds of years ago? There could have been a pond at that time, but maybe it had dried up over the years.

  The dots marking the steps came from the road. She glanced at the road. That’s where she’d started, but what if that’s not where the road had been when this map was made?

  Slowly, she walked the acre of land, watching the ground carefully. If there had been a different road somewhere else, she hoped she’d be able to spot it. But as the sun rose higher in the sky, the heat glared down on her, heating her up considerably. And she wasn’t wearing her bonnet. Most definitely, she’d get freckles from too much sun.

  She might as well give up. If there was a treasure here, she wouldn’t be able to find it until she knew what this section of land looked like many years ago. She frowned. And she wasn’t going to traipse all the way into town to the courthouse just to have them look through documents for her. Obviously, this was a wild goose-chase. Whoever had drawn the treasure map must have done it for fun—or to see how many simpletons would try to find the treasure.

  As she turned to head back, something caught her eye. A section of the land drooped deeper than the rest. She studied the size. Many years ago, this very well could have been the pond!

  Enthusiasm lifted inside of her chest again, and she imagined what the pond would look like. And if that was where the pond was, then… She snapped her attention to the right of her. That’s where the road would have been. She hurried in that direction, hoping to see something that might look like a road. Sure enough, the grass looked different in this portion —almost a different color, and if she thought about the section hard enough, it would even look like some kind of road.

 

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