A Midsummer Bride

by Amanda Forester

  “That was when I thought ye were poor,” exclaimed Duncan.

  “But since you wanted to marry me then, couldn’t you find it in your heart to stay married to me now?”

  “But yer brothers—”

  “Are going to meet a most horrible demise if you allow those fools to destroy this marriage.” She was surprised at how sincere she was.

  “I would hate to be the cause of anyone’s demise. Though for yer brothers, I might be willing to make an exception,” he added in a mutter.

  “They were beastly.”

  “They were saying what everyone else will say, that I married ye for the money. It is the one thing I was determined to avoid in my life. The one promise I made to my father.”

  “No one who knows you could think this of you. Everyone, including you, believed the rumor that I had lost my fortune. It was meant as a test for d’Argon, you see.”

  Thornton shook his head. “However it happened, the fact remains that I was not given all the relevant facts before the nuptials. I would not cast ye out, but since yer parents arrived, I will take it as a sign—”

  “That what?” interrupted Harriet. “My parents came because they were worried about me, not to break up the marriage.” She took a step toward him.

  “I swore I would never do this.”

  “I see.” Harriet took a deep breath. It was time to be bold. “I am sorry to have to do this, but you leave me no choice. I shall have to seduce you.”

  “Seduce?” Thornton’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline.

  “Yes. You are being so illogical, I am forced to trap you into remaining in this marriage.”

  “How?” Duncan seemed reluctantly interested.

  “I will seduce you into making love to me and then manipulate your honorable instincts to force you to remain with me. Unfortunately, I have a small problem with my plan.”

  “Yer sense o’ decency winna let ye go through wi’ it?” he asked.

  “No, I’d do it if I knew how. Alas, I have spent too much time reading chemistry books and not enough time learning how to properly seduce.”

  Duncan stared at her. “I’m trying to decide whether to be flattered or horrified.”

  Harriet opened her dressing gown and let it drop to the floor. She was wearing a sensible nightgown. All she owned were sensible nightgowns. In a flash of belated insight, she wished she had thought to wear nothing under the dressing gown. But of course, she did not wish to catch a draft.

  She loosed the tie and opened the front of her nightgown, revealing more of her chest. She noticed that he watched intently what her fingers were doing, so she let them wander, trailing, circling, pinching, squeezing. If she was embarrassed, she forgot it when she realized how riveted he was to her one-woman show.

  He whipped off his shirt, revealing a muscular chest. “Ye should leave.”

  His actions and his words were so much in discord, she knew she must ignore one of them. She chose to disregard his words, which honestly made everything easier.

  She pulled the pins from her hair and let it fall down in a tussled mess.

  “I do not want ye here,” he said while stripping off his boots and breeches. Standing before her in short clothes, the falseness of this statement was blatantly obvious.

  She marched over to the bed and crawled on it, having to hoist herself up onto the high mattress. She hiked up her nightgown to get up onto the mattress then realized it might also be an opportunity, so pulled it up even further as she scrambled up the mattress.

  Behind her, Duncan began to swear in some unknown language. At least she thought it was swearing because it sounded loud and excited. He caught her from behind and hiked her nightgown up even more. She tried to move forward, but he held her fast. His hands on her backside left no doubt as to his interest or intent.

  “Och, lass, ye win,” conceded Duncan.

  “I haven’t yet.” Harriet turned around and divested herself of the nightgown entirely. Then, feeling a little naked, she retreated under the covers, but not before Duncan got a good look. In his eyes she saw only admiration and frank lust.

  Duncan sighed and joined her under the covers. “I have been an ass.”

  Harriet snuggled beside him. “Yes, you have, dear.” She patted his chest in sympathy. “But we all make mistakes. I suppose my plan to trap you into marriage was not the best.”

  “Well now, I woud’na go so far. In fact, I believe it has merit.”

  “You wish to be trapped in this marriage?”

  “Aye, wi’ all my heart. I canna fathom a life wi’out ye.”

  A smile spread across her face and she felt it radiate through her down to her toes. “Fortunately, you don’t have to.”

  “Good, now ye promised to seduce me, so I do believe ye have some work left to do tonight.” He smiled at her. She smiled in return.

  “I do not know quite how to seduce you, but I am willing to learn.”

  “And I am willing to be seduced. Ye see what an amiable husband I shall be?”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, and to her alarm, tears sprung to her eyes.

  “What is it? How have I hurt ye?”

  “No, you have not hurt me. I am simply happy. I feared I would lose you.”

  “Forgive me. I swear to ye I shall never act like a fool.” He paused and corrected himself. “I am not certain I can quite swear to that, but I do swear that I am yers forever.” He kissed her once. “That is to show ye I mean what I say.” He kissed her twice. “That is because I love ye.” Then he kissed her again and did not stop kissing her.

  Finally she gasped for air. “What is that one for?”

  “Dinna ken. Need ye,” he growled and resumed the kiss, this time his hands feeling, stroking, caressing, making her body come alive.

  She craved his touch, pulling herself closer, needing to feel him cover her, needing him to touch her. His hand worked its way up her leg to her thigh, to that place that throbbed with need. She reached for him and explored with her own fingers, finding the things that made him gasp. He pressed closer and she relaxed into him. She belonged to him. She needed him.

  “Och, I do love ye, lass.” He joined with her and she held on tight, leaving no doubt as to her own feelings on the matter.

  She ran her fingers up and down his back, enjoying the way it made him shudder, until his own movements released something raw within her. Her entire being was focused on the building desire and raw passion they created. She held him tighter, never wanting to be parted. This was right; they were together. Husband and wife, united forever. This was her true desire.

  Pleasure blasted through her, burning her inside with the heat of pure bliss. Aftershocks of joy pulsed through her. She gasped for breath, wondering if this was pleasure or death, and deciding that even if it was the end, it had been worth it. She went from feeling light and weightless to heavy and was certain she could never move again. She closed her eyes and drifted away.

  “Ye belong to me,” his voice was guttural, primal.

  “I love you too.”

  ***

  “It appears Madame X has been successful,” said Marchford, motioning to his grandmother and Lord Langley as they argued on the other side of the drawing room over the amount of remuneration for services rendered.

  “They have been arguing about this all day,” sighed Penelope. “I would just concede the point so I could cease a tiring conversation.”

  “I think the point is they do not wish to stop the conversation,” said Marchford, taking another careful look at the dowager duchess and Langley.

  “Best be careful lest you acquire a new grandfather-in-law,” said Penelope, sitting perfectly straight, perched on the edge of her chair.

  Marchford waved off the comment and relaxed back in the upholstered chair. “People my grandmother’s age do not get married. However, people my age do. I believe I also contracted with Madame X, and I have not reaped the rewards of this investment.”

  “Inv
estment?”

  Marchford leaned forward in his chair and whispered to her. “Where is the list of my potential brides?”

  “Been a little busy. Besides, you rejected the potential ladies I reviewed with you.” Penelope said no more because the memory of their kiss stole away all rational thought.

  “When you have presented me with the right lady, I will let you know. Until then, I expect you to work tirelessly on the project.”

  “Unfortunately, the primary tool of my trade was stolen by a traitor,” said Penelope, still disappointed regarding the loss of her matchmaker book.

  “Ah yes, I nearly forgot.” He reached under the tablecloth of a small side table and pulled out her Debrett’s Peerage.

  “You found it!” It was only a book, but it was dear to her, and she was beyond happy to have it returned.

  “It was in Neville’s room. I even cleaned off the chemicals, so it should be ready to use.”

  “I shall do my utmost, Your Grace, to find you a suitable wife,” said Penelope. “It would be helpful if you would endeavor not to be so particular in your choice of brides.”

  The Duke of Marchford raised one aristocratic eyebrow. “I anticipate you will find me a suitable bride. If you cannot present anyone worthy, I shall expect you to perform the office yourself. Good night, Miss Rose.”

  Penelope watched as Marchford strolled away, self-confident as always. He must have been jesting when he said he would marry her.

  He was joking… wasn’t he?

  Epilogue

  Thornton Hall, 1817

  Harriet had to yell to make herself heard over the din of the twins. Two sets. One set of boys, one of girls. The girls were louder.

  “Happy Christmas!” shouted Harriet to her mother-in-law, who arrived for Christmas Eve dinner on the arm of Sir Antony Roberts, who hardly could be seen for the number of parcels he carried.

  “Happy Christmas, my love,” said Lady Roberts and swept past her to embrace her grandchildren. All four at once if possible. The children embraced her savagely, hugging and kissing with abandon, and pulled her into the parlor to play games.

  “We did some shopping for the children,” said Sir Antony, handing the butler a stack of packages. “How are you, my dear?”

  “Very well, thank you. I do hope you did not put yourself out for the children’s sake.” Harriet was occasionally worried, when she had the time, that her mother-in-law would beggar her new husband with the gifts she brought.

  “No, no, not at all. She has more blunt than she can spend now that she has given up gambling. She was such a horrible gambler.” He shook his head. “I don’t think she even liked it. More to get back at her first husband if you ask me.”

  “I am so glad she is happy.”

  “We are happy and I benefit more than anyone. Why she would marry an old goat like myself is beyond me. But she did, and I hope she doesn’t realize her mistake until I’m dead and gone!”

  “One thing I know is that your wife adores you.”

  “You know a good deal more than that,” countered Sir Antony. “Saw your latest chemistry article from ‘Harry Maclachlan.’ Well done! Could not understand most of it, so I know it must have been good.”

  Harriet smiled in response. She was a little proud of her paper too.

  “Now where’s that husband of yours?” asked Sir Antony with a smile.

  “In the parlor, playing some sort of game with the children. Most likely something messy and loud.”

  “My favorite!” His eyes twinkled. “The young people are coming.”

  The young people turned out to be Sir Antony’s nephew, Dr. Roberts; his wife, Lady Louisa; and their four children. They arrived, all smiles, the children quietly standing in the entryway like perfect angels until they were given leave to join the other children. Then they tore into the parlor like beasts.

  Thornton stumbled out of the parlor laughing, his jacket off, his head wet and water dripping down his shirt.

  “Duncan! Are you playing with the children again?”

  “Aye!” he said with sheepish grin. “They dared me to get two apples at once.”

  “But that’s not possible.”

  “Well, I know that, dear, but it was a dare. I coud’na back down now, could I?”

  “Duncan, you are a poor influence on our children. I am trying to teach them not to take foolish dares.”

  He shrugged. “I know ye are right. I just need more practice with this child-raising thing. I’ll get the right of it. I promise ye.”

  “I should hope so. Perhaps you will do better with the next one.”

  “Aye… wait—the next?”

  Harriet smiled. “Yes, the next.” She patted her midsection with a smile.

  “Och, five bairns. They shall be the death o’ me.”

  “Unless we have twins again.”

  “Six! Nay, ’tis too many bairns we have here.”

  “Shall I tell the housekeeper we have finally decided to be respectable and sleep in separate rooms? You know she has been hinting at it since the second set of twins.”

  Thornton wrapped his arms around her and graced her with a Christmas kiss. “Nay. I do believe we shall go for an even dozen.”

  They walked, hand in hand, into the parlor, which was crawling with children. Some were playing bob for apples, others were playing on the pianoforte and dancing, while still others had paper dolls in one corner and stick horses in another, and they were all talking at once in a happy cacophony of noise.

  “Happy Christmas, my love,” said Thornton.

  “A Merry Christmas to you too.”

  Author’s Note

  Although the situation in which Harriet Redgrave found herself when her American ship was attacked by an English frigate may seem far-fetched, it actually has a basis in fact. During the Napoleonic Wars, the Royal Navy routinely turned to impressments, the taking of sailors by force to serve in the navy, in order to man their six-hundred-ship fleet. Press gangs could operate both on land and at sea. By British law, any officer of the Royal Navy could, if the need arose, stop another seagoing vessel and press eligible men into service of the navy. British frigates often stationed themselves outside U.S. harbors in order to search American vessels for contraband or men they considered eligible for impressments. Since Britain did not recognize American naturalized citizenship, they considered anyone of British descent to be fair game for impressments. In 1807, the American frigate, the USS Chesapeake, was attacked and boarded by a British warship and four sailors taken as deserters, one later put to death. These incidents outraged Americans and became one of the reasons America declared war on Britain during the war of 1812.

  Acknowledgments

  I greatly appreciate all the support and encouragement I have received from my family, friends, and other authors who make me feel slightly less crazy. Thanks to my editor, Deb Werksman, and my agent, Barbara Poelle, who encouraged me to go where the story led. A huge debt of gratitude to my beta reader, Laurie Maus, whose insights and edits are invaluable. And of course, to my husband, who picked up the slack so I could follow this dream.

  About the Author

  Amanda Forester holds a PhD in psychology and worked for many years in academia before discovering that writing historical romance was decidedly more fun. Whether in the rugged Highlands of medieval Scotland or the decadent ballrooms of Regency England, her novels offer fast-paced adventures filled with wit, intrigue, and romance. Amanda lives with her family in the Pacific Northwest. You can visit her at www.amandaforester.com.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Contents

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen


  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Twenty-five

  Twenty-six

  Twenty-seven

  Twenty-eight

  Twenty-nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-one

  Thirty-two

  Thirty-three

  Thirty-four

  Thirty-five

  Thirty-six

  Thirty-seven

  Thirty-eight

  Thirty-nine

  Forty

  Forty-one

  Forty-two

  Forty-three

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Back Cover