by Joyce Alec
A small laugh escaped from Elizabeth’s throat, as she patted her mother’s hand. “Mama, I cannot think of anything I would like better.”
Her mother’s eyes widened for a moment before she smiled. “I am so glad that you are all right,” she replied with a small sigh. “I have been so worried for you.”
“It was all Lord Parke’s doing,” Elizabeth said heavily. “I did not guess that he had nefarious intentions towards Luke, nor did I suspect that he was speaking nothing more than lies into my ear. It was foolish of me to continue my acquaintance with him.”
Shaking her head, the countess smiled at her daughter. “No, it was not foolish, my dear. It was quite understandable, given the circumstances. You were lost in a fog, not knowing where your betrothed had gone. If Lord Parke was the only connection to him, then of course you would try to further that acquaintance!”
“I was always true to him,” Elizabeth whispered, half to herself. “I never wanted anything but to discover the truth about where Luke had gone.”
Her mother patted her hand and smiled. “I know that, and I can assure you that he does, too. He said he would return within the hour in the hope that he might speak with you.”
Elizabeth gasped and made to fling back the covers, suddenly desperate to see Lord Mallon, but her mother held the covers in place steadfastly.
“Now, you cannot speak to him when you look like a wraith! Eat first, rest, and then I will help you dress warmly. He has not come yet, and I know he would not want you to do yourself any kind of injury simply to speak to him.” She gave Elizabeth a firm look. “Are you sure you are quite able to rise from your bed?”
“Yes, Mama,” Elizabeth replied at once. “Once I have eaten I know I will be more than able to get up. I have to see him. There is so much to be said.”
The countess’s mouth curved into a smile. “I believe he said almost exactly the same thing.” The door opened, and the maid entered, carrying a small tray. “Now, eat,” her mother instructed firmly. “And then we shall prepare you to meet your betrothed.”
Nothing but an anxious urgency drove Elizabeth towards the drawing room, desperate to see Luke again. She had been so lost without him. So much time had been spent in confusion and in worry.
Her mother had been called away on an urgent matter and had told Elizabeth that she would be joining them in a few moments. Elizabeth, realizing that her mother was giving her some time with Luke alone, had been more than thankful. Opening the door to the drawing room, she saw him turn towards her from where he stood by the fireplace, and without hesitating, she rushed towards him and threw herself into his arms.
He caught her at once, his strong arms about her waist as she held him tightly, burying her face into his neck. They stood together for some moments, the wounds in her heart slowly beginning to heal.
“My dear Elizabeth,” he whispered in her ear, his head pulling back just a little so that he might look into her eyes. “How much I have missed you.”
She did not wait but lifted her face to his, kissing him lightly. There was a moment of caution on his part, as though he had been surprised at her action, only for him to angle his head and kiss her back again with a great firmness, a greater passion than she had ever experienced.
When his lips left hers, they were both breathing hard, and a tear slipped from the corner of her eye.
“Do not cry, my love,” he whispered, brushing it away with his thumb. “It is all over now.”
“I know,” she replied, with a watery smile. “I have been so confused, so lost, Luke. I did not know where you had gone and thought that Lord Parke might hear from you before I did, and so I kept up our acquaintance. It was not as though he were cruel or the like, he was charmingly amiable.”
Her stomach knotted, as she looked up at him, worried that he might be angry with her for what she had done. However, instead of frowning, he was smiling gently down at her.
“I do not hold you responsible in any way,” he promised, stepping back and taking her hand. “Come now, sit by me.”
Elizabeth, weak with relief, sat next to him and smiled as he kept her hand in his. At that moment, there was such a deep connection between them that she knew this incident would have no bearing on their future together.
“Lord Parke was tasked with taking a note to you,” he began, shaking his head. “My father had experienced an accident in his carriage on the way home, and I was sent for immediately. I thought that Lord Parke would do as I asked, particularly because I knew he was to leave London.” He shook his head, apparently frustrated with himself for being so trusting. “Parke has never done anything like this before, although I knew him not to be wise gentleman. He has debts up to his eyeballs and was required to leave London before his creditors came snapping at his heels—and that is even when I paid some of the creditors what they were due!”
Elizabeth gasped, her eyes wide. “You showed him such kindness, and yet he did not return it?”
“No, he did not,” Luke replied heavily. “He saw an opportunity and took it with both hands. In trying to worm his way into your affections, he sought to discredit me in your eyes in the hope that you might agree to marry him before I returned to London.”
“A foolish plan,” Elizabeth whispered, squeezing his hand. “After what we shared, I could not give you up so easily. I could not think so ill of you.”
The way he smiled at her made her heart quicken, seeing something burning there.
“I am grateful for your belief in me. I know things must have been very trying,” he said quietly. “Lord Parke, it seems, grew frustrated when you spoke to him this afternoon about my imminent return. That is why he tried to physically remove you from my presence. I believe he hoped to force you into matrimony, for your dowry alone would have cleared his debts.”
Shuddering, Elizabeth closed her eyes and tried not to recall just how afraid she had been.
“He did not have a plan,” Luke said heavily. “He was foolish in the least and deserves everything that fell on him.”
“The carriage was going so fast,” Elizabeth whispered, as Luke placed his other hand on top of their joined ones. “I screamed aloud, more than once, and I believe I startled the horses. Somehow, the carriage ended up sitting across the road, blocking everyone else, and I was sure we were about to be thrown from it.”
“It must have been truly awful,” Luke said softly. “I am sorry that you had to endure it.”
Elizabeth remembered how relieved she had been when Luke had opened the door to the carriage. She allowed her gaze to rove to the top of his head where Parke had hit him so cruelly. “Parke then produced a pistol, which he had hidden somewhere in the carriage,” she continued, her voice shaking. “When you opened the door, he did not hesitate, but brought the butt of the pistol down on your head. I think since it only holds one shot, he did not want to waste it on you. For then, there would have been no threat to me.”
“You were extraordinarily brave, my love,” Luke replied, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. “You took the gun from him, I presume?”
“I did not think it was brave, but foolish,” Elizabeth said with a wry, wobbling smile. “But what else could I do? In the shock of it all, Parke simply stared at me as I fumbled with it, trying my best to get a hold of it when it went off. My finger must have slipped on the trigger.”
The sheer horror of that moment engulfed her once again, but before she became lost in it, Luke held her tightly in his arms, murmuring comforting words in her ear.
“You did not kill him,” he reminded her over and over. “A shot to the shoulder, that is all. A flesh wound. No one will come after you for this. You are to be commended for your bravery.”
Not feeling particularly brave in the least, Elizabeth closed her eyes and tried to stop herself from trembling so furiously. Wrapped in Luke’s arms, she felt herself begin to calm, his strength and support surrounding her and chasing the dark memories away.
“There is only one sl
ight problem however,” Luke continued, leaning back and looking into her eyes.
“Oh?”
His smile warmed her heart, her eyes filled with none but him.
“The rumors are now abounding all over town,” he smiled, one hand cupping her chin. “I think we must wed sooner than we thought, if that would be to your liking?”
Elizabeth’s lips curved into a gentle smile, her heart filling with a deep abiding love for the man who held her heart.
“I would marry you tomorrow, Luke,” she said softly. “I do not want to let you go again, not when I came so close to losing you.”
His smile was one of happiness and contentment, looking at her as though she were some kind of precious jewel. “Then as soon as it can be arranged, I shall take you as my bride,” he murmured, leaning towards her again. “I love you, Elizabeth. I do not think I can live another day without you by my side.”
His lips touched hers, and Elizabeth went willingly into his arms. The happiness in her heart chased away any dark remnants of all that had happened. Her future was no longer clouded with fear and doubt. “I love you too, Luke,” she whispered against his mouth. “For as long as we both shall live.”
THE END
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About the Author
Joyce Alec grew up in Colorado and graduated from college with a degree in business. After developing a passion for books, she spent countless hours reading a variety of genres, but fell in love with sweet, historical romances. Joyce’s passion for reading eventually cultivated into a love for writing, so creating Regency-era tales of love is a dream come true for her.
After planting her roots in Florida, Joyce found another passion: the ocean! In her free time, you can find Joyce at the beach with a big floppy hat, flip-flops, and a vanilla iced coffee in hand. She lives in the Sunshine State with her prince charming and wildly vivacious son.
Bonus Regency Romance Stories
Bonus Regency Romance Stories
Text Copyright © 2018 by Caroline Johnson
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
First printing, 2018
Publisher
Love Light Faith, LLC
400 NW 7th Avenue, Unit 825
Fort Lauderdale, FL 33311
Part I
Secrets of the Duke’s Heart
By Caroline Johnson
1
London, England, 1852
Emma hummed as she flipped the sign on the door over from 'shut' to 'open.' She loved coming to work every day, especially since Carter's bookstore was now hers alone. The scent of books, along with the lemon oil she used to keep the shelves shiny soothed her as if it were a fine perfume. She'd worked side by side with her father for years, and he managed to teach her every aspect of the business before the good Lord took him away, leaving the shop for her to run. So far, she'd been successful at keeping a roof over their heads, and providing enough of an income for herself and her mother to get by.
To keep their modest lifestyle, she needed to sell at least twenty books each month. So far this month, she had made it to seventeen. A quick glance at the calendar assured her she still had a few days left to make up the difference. She progressed to the rear of the little store, turning on the Argand oil lamps as she wended her way through the familiar aisles. She had purchased a fair number of books yesterday at auction and needed to sort through them and assign a price to each before placing them on the shelves.
She had just picked up the first book when the little bell over the door rang, signifying a customer. Emma glanced up and stared at a man she knew well. At least by name and reputation. Whatever was the Duke of Ravenswood doing in her little shop?
She took a steadying breath before she stepped forward. "Good morning, Your Grace. You are out and about quite early this morning. May I help you find something?"
His intelligent brown eyes raked over her, and he brushed away the lock of dark hair that had fallen over his forehead when he doffed his hat. Emma's skin prickled at the intensity of his gaze and her mouth suddenly went dry. The Duke of Ravenswood was, if the scandal sheets could be believed, a rake and a scoundrel, bedding every woman in his path and often not rising until nightfall to hunt for the next woman to fall victim to his charms.
He blinked, as if coming out of a trance, and cleared his throat. "Yes, you may, Miss...?"
Emma extended a hand to him. "Emma Carter, Your Grace, proprietor of this shop."
He took hold of her hand and leaned over it, brushing his lips against her fingers. Then, he straightened and stared deep into her eyes. "It's lovely to meet your acquaintance, Emma Carter. Is it Miss Carter, or Mrs.?"
"Miss Carter is fine." She found her voice again.
"I'm Paul Beckinsale. You can possibly save my skin today." His voice was a deep baritone and reminded her of fine whiskey.
She stumbled over her words as he finally relinquished her hand. "How...how might I do so, Sir? I mean, Your Grace. What in particular are you searching for?"
"I'm here to purchase a gift for the only woman I'd get out of bed before three in the afternoon for." He grinned at her, and Emma's knees threatened to buckle. The man had certainly earned his reputation, since even she was not immune to his striking good looks and his magnetic personality.
"And who might this lucky lady be?" She closed her eyes momentarily, mentally kicking herself for asking such a forward question.
He laughed, the deep sound sending shivers throughout her body. "It's not at all what you think. I need a gift for my mother."
Paul nearly laughed again as he caught the play of emotions on Emma Carter's face. What did she think? It seemed his mere presence made her jittery. His reputation preceded him into every drawing room in London, so he should not be surprised that it preceded him into this little bookstore, with its dusty labyrinth of aisles and books stacked every which way.
His gaze fel
l to her lips as she took a deep breath. Beautiful lips, he had to admit. There was something different about this one. The way she carried herself. Her smile. The way the light from the lamp reflected off of her hair.
She glanced up at him; her blue eyes grazed over his face before she quickly lowered her gaze and became enamored with the knot in the floorboard beneath their feet. "I have a collection of books that appeal to the ladies over here." She pointed a finger to the far wall and took a step forward.
He reached out a hand and laid it on her arm. Her body went rigid, and she stopped, glancing at him questionably. She gently removed his hand and gave him a warning look.
"What appeals to most ladies is mundane to my mother." He flashed his trademark grin at her, knowing the dimples in his cheeks would emerge. "She wants The String of Pearls in its entirety. I've been told if any bookstore in town has the complete eighteen-part story, it would be you."
Her gasp was audible, but he couldn't tell if it was a reaction to his dimples or the subject matter that enthralled his mother.
"Sweeney Todd?" she squeaked. He had his answer. She was immune to his dimples, it seemed. The first lady in a long time not to swoon when he flashed his grin. Miss Emma Carter presented a challenge, and he was ready to play this game. He shifted his eyes away from her. His immediate knee-jerk reaction to make her a conquest was nothing more than being momentarily mesmerized by her rosy lips, which reminded him of raspberries. And her large, expressive blue eyes. Her obvious intelligence was a refreshing change, as well.
