Sarah M. Eden British Isles Collection (A Timeless Romance Anthology Book 15)

by Sarah M. Eden

  And he doesn’t even care. He hasn’t missed me at all.

  Chapter Six

  By the time Reed reached the front of the Barringtons’ home, Lucy was gone. He stood looking out into the dark night, worry tying his insides into knots. How had things come to this?

  “The scales have tipped decidedly in our favor.” Mr. Harrison slapped a companionable hand on Reed’s shoulder. “We’ll have the ladies agreeing to let us stay at home every night of the week soon enough.”

  Robert and Charles had come as well, both looking pleased as could be.

  “Another evening or two, and we can declare this a decisive victory for the gentlemen,” Robert declared.

  “No.” Reed snapped out the word.

  “What do you mean, ‘no’?” Robert smiled, even laughingly elbowing Charles. They all thought this a great joke.

  “I mean there will be no more evenings like this. No more.” Reed stepped back into the entryway. “My hat and outercoat,” he instructed the butler. “And send for my carriage.”

  A moment later, the items were in his possession and he was waiting in the vestibule for his equipage.

  His in-laws closed in on him. “You are quitting the field?” Robert asked in a tone of surprise. “But we are winning.”

  Reed eyed them each in turn. “Gentlemen, this has gone too far. I saw tears in my wife’s eyes tonight, and that is something I will never abide. Not ever. This ends now.”

  They looked at him as though he had lost his mind. “If you give in now, Lucy will be leading you about by the nose the rest of your life.”

  “So be it.”

  His carriage pulled up, and Reed was grateful for the escape. He preferred staying on friendly terms with his wife’s family, but if they continued insisting he treat her with less kindness than she deserved, he would be hard pressed not to call each and every one of them out.

  He’d gone along with the plan because he hadn’t expected it to wound Lucy the way it obviously had. They’d convinced him she was playing along, that it was a friendly bit of rivalry between them. A bit of lark was all. In the process, he had hurt his wife, his darling, wonderful Lucy.

  To his surprise, Mr. Harrison climbed in the carriage with him.

  “If you mean to try to change my mind—”

  But Mr. Harrison held up a hand. “Actually, I mean to admit to you that you’re right. We took this game too far.”

  “That seems a very abrupt change of position.” Reed wasn’t generally a suspicious person, but he’d seen an underhandedness in his in-laws over the past week, albeit it a good-humored underhandedness, and it made him wary.

  “Robert, Charles, and I were thoroughly enjoying this little rivalry with the ladies. And I know from speaking of it with my wife that she, Amelia, and Clarissa have been amused as well.”

  “Forgive me if I haven’t found it overly amusing.”

  Mr. Harrison acknowledged Reed’s position with a quick nod. “I am not at all happy with how things have turned out myself. We didn’t mean to hurt Lucy’s feelings.”

  “I need to apologize to her,” Reed said.

  “Oh, son, you must do far more than that.”

  The declaration was not a promising one. “Did you have something particular in mind, because I am currently at a loss.”

  Mr. Harrison’s expression turned ponderous. “I might. I just might.”

  Chapter Seven

  Lucy’s tears dried by morning, though she kept to her room all the next day. She didn’t want to hear any more of her family’s schemes nor see the glint of triumph that would, no doubt, be in her father’s eyes. The gentlemen had scored a decisive victory, with Lucy’s broken heart being the spoils.

  Over the past months, when something worried or upset her, she’d turned to Reed, and he’d listened as she talked it through. That always made her feel better. But he wasn’t here, and he’d made it quite clear over the past week that he didn’t really care to be.

  She could go to their house not many streets away, ask if she could come home, and they could forget the rivalry they’d been entangled in the past few days. But there would always be the knowledge in the back of her mind that he hadn’t asked her back and didn’t really want her there.

  When the dinner bell sounded, Lucy instructed her abigail to have her meal brought up on a tray. She simply wanted to be left alone. But the minutes stretched out, and her food didn’t arrive. After nearly thirty minutes had past, Lucy began to suspect something had gone wrong.

  She opened her bedchamber door a crack and peeked out. The corridor was empty. The family would be at their meal already. She tiptoed down the stairs, not wishing to draw attention to herself. They would want to talk, but she had no desire to. The corridor where the dining room stood was silent.

  Now that is odd. She glanced around, trying to sort it out. It was the dinner hour, and her family was not one to miss a meal. She was nearly certain that Robert and Amelia, and Charles and Clarissa intended to take dinner with them that night. With six people sitting down to a meal, there ought to have been quite a bit of chatter.

  Perhaps they had decided to eat elsewhere. The staff always seemed to know more about the comings and goings of the family than anyone. She stepped into the dining room, intending to tug the bell pull, but the sound of voices down the corridor stopped her.

  She listened. Definitely voices. Lucy moved toward the sound. The drawing room? Why were they gathered in the drawing room? She pulled the door open a bit and looked inside. Seven pairs of eyes darted toward her. Then the room seemed to spring into action.

  “Oh, no you will not, you lying blackguard!” Father declared in ringing tones, pointing an accusatory finger at Reed, of all people.

  Lucy opened the door more fully.

  “I will not be deterred, old man,” Reed replied, in stilted and overly dramatic tones. “Resign yourself.”

  Mother pressed the back of her hand to her forehead and dropped against the sofa. “Whatever shall we do?”

  Amelia and Clarissa rushed to Mother’s side, waving smelling salts and patting her hands as if consoling her.

  Robert rose and stood next to Father. Though his expression was serious, Lucy knew the look of laughter hovering in the back of her brother’s eyes. “You will not get away with this dastardly plan, Mr. Stanthorpe.”

  “Oh, but I will,” Reed said. “You will not keep us apart a moment longer. If I must move mountains or cross oceans, I will. For true love always wins in the end!” He spun about, facing Lucy. “Never fear, my lady, I have come to rescue you from this vile place of imprisonment.”

  “What in heaven’s name—”

  Reed stepped up to her and wrapped his arm around her waist. He looked back over her family, assembled in an obviously preplanned pose. “Do not attempt to follow us,” Reed warned. “For I will allow nothing to come between me and my true love again.”

  “Reed, what is going on?” Lucy asked.

  He looked down at her, and her heart nearly stopped at the intensity of his gaze. “Our long nightmare is over, love. I’ve come to take you away from this place.”

  “Have you really?” The words emerged as little more than a whisper.

  “I have, indeed, and should have long ago.” To her family he said, “Au revoir!” then swept her from the room and down the corridor.

  A footman waited at the front door, clearly anticipating their departure. He held the door, and they stepped out. Reed’s carriage sat in readiness, the driver already perched atop. They were quickly settled inside— Lucy on the forward-facing bench and Reed on the rear-facing— and the carriage lurched forward.

  Her mind was in a whirlwind. What had just happened? Reed came for her, that much was certain. Though why he had remained a mystery. She would not allow herself to believe he had missed her and longed for her, when so much silence had stretched between them.

  And, yet, he was here.

  “Lucy?” His voice was a bit uncertain. “I nee
d to say something, and I hope you won’t take it the wrong way.”

  She braced herself. Heaven only knew what he meant to tell her.

  “I have always liked your family; you know that. But darling, they aren’t very bright.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Reed moved and sat directly beside her, taking her hands in his and looking into her face. The streetlamps they passed illuminated his expression enough for her to see the earnestness there. “I realize you first came to your parents’ home because I was being an utter featherhead and you needed someone to listen to you. By the time I realized where you were, your mother and sisters had already convinced you that this miscommunication we were having was worthy of a drawn-out battle.”

  That was true enough.

  “Upon arriving, your male relations pulled me aside and convinced me of the same thing. Though I would have far preferred to simply bring you home and talk it through, I bowed to their years of matrimonial experience, thinking it gave them insight. But, Lucy, darling, they are idiots, the lot of them.”

  She actually laughed out loud. She knew Reed really did like her family, but considering the turmoil of the past week, she had to agree with his assessment of their mental faculties.

  He brushed his fingers along her cheek. “We should never have listened to them, my love. And I am sorry their schemes hurt you and sorrier still that I had any part of it.”

  “We were both rather blinded by them,” Lucy said. “We ought to have simply told them all how bacon-brained they were being and fixed the problem ourselves.”

  “Indeed.” He cupped her face gently in his hands and placed a tender kiss to her forehead. “And now that I have rescued you from the dungeon of despair they were keeping you in—”

  She smiled at the theatrical tone he had adopted once more.

  “I think we had best set our minds to resolving the difficulty that caused all of this trouble.”

  Lucy leaned into his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder and her hand against his chest. “I know you don’t care for Society functions,” she said. “And I don’t want to force you to endure them all the time.”

  His arms held her ever tighter. “And I know how much you do enjoy them, and I don’t want you to miss them all.”

  “Perhaps…” She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “We could pick a few events each week I would particularly like to attend, and on the other nights, we could stay home.”

  Reed kissed her temple. “I believe that is an excellent solution.”

  Lucy shifted enough to more fully face him, brushing her fingers along his jaw. “And if there is ever anything you desperately wish to avoid attending, you tell me, and we’ll stay home.”

  His hand slipped behind her neck, his fingers weaving into her hair. “And if there is anything you desperately wish to attend, you tell me, and we will make certain we are there.”

  “And”— she feathered a kiss on his lips— “we will never”— another light kiss— “ever”— and another— “listen to my family again.”

  “Agreed.”

  Reed pulled her firmly into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. The heartache and loneliness of the past week simply melted away. He did love her. He always had. If not for the poor advice and insistence of meddlesome relations, they might have resolved this difficulty very easily.

  But, she told herself as he continued kissing her and holding her, that without the argument, they’d not be enjoying a reconciliation.

  The carriage came to a stop in front of their house. Reed pulled away, letting down the window.

  “Circle the block a few more times, man,” he called out to the driver. “And drive slowly.”

  He put up the window once more and drew the curtains. She felt his arms slip around her and his warmth settle over her once more.

  “Now, my dearest Lucy, where were we?”

  Click on the covers to visit Sarah’s Amazon Author page:

  Sarah M. Eden is the author of multiple historical romances, including the two-time Whitney Award Winner Longing for Home and Whitney Award finalists Seeking Persephone

  and Courting Miss Lancaster. Combining her obsession with history and affinity for tender love stories, Sarah loves crafting witty characters and heartfelt romances. She has twice served as the Master of Ceremonies for the LDStorymakers Writers Conference and acted as the Writer in Residence at the Northwest Writers Retreat. Sarah is represented by Pam van Hylckama Vlieg at D4EO Literary Agency.

  Visit Sarah online:

  Twitter: @SarahMEden

  Facebook: Author Sarah M. Eden

  Website: SarahMEden.com

  Dear Timeless Romance Anthology Reader,

  Thank you for reading this anthology. We hoped you loved the sweet romance novellas! Heather B. Moore, Annette Lyon, and Sarah M. Eden have been indie publishing this series since 2012 through the Mirror Press imprint.

  If you enjoyed the Sarah M. Eden British Isles Collection, please consider leaving a review on Goodreads or Amazon or any other e-book store you purchase through. Reviews and word-of-mouth is what helps us continue this fun project. For updates and notifications of sales and giveaways, please sign up for our monthly newsletter here.

  Also, if you’re interested in becoming a regular reviewer of the anthologies and would like access to advance copies, please email Heather Moore: heather@hbmoore.com

  We also have a blog where we post announcements as well as a Facebook page.

  Thank you!

  The Timeless Romance Authors

  New in 2015:

  For the latest updates on our anthologies, sign up for our newsletter or visit our blog:

  http://timelessromanceanthologies.blogspot.com