Harlequin Historical July 2021--Box Set 2 of 2

by Madeline Martin

He took one step inside, waiting until their mothers left. ‘My butler informed me you were here. I hope you came to see me.’

  ‘Yes.’ She rose and stood in front of him. The ruby ring still rested on her thumb. She took it off. ‘I saw this and wanted to give it to you as a thank-you token for saving my life. Well, I wanted to give half of it to you.’

  He took the ring and, with a deft movement, separated it. The two circles interlaced to make one and slipped apart to make two.

  ‘When I went to the parties and you weren’t there, they were devoid of music. You add to the simplest moments. The moments of quiet talking. The moments of dancing. All of them are better with you in them.’

  ‘You need to know that I’m proud of the steps that you’ve made.’

  ‘Father told me the shop has improved and he feels hopeful for the first time in years. I don’t want to put it aside. I appreciate your offer of letting your man of affairs help me and I will ask for advice, but I want to continue my family’s heritage. If I have children, I want the excitement of training them to follow in my steps, if they want, sons or daughters.’

  ‘What better plan for them than to have a mother who loves them and wants to help them grow into the path they prefer? But I would also want them to have a strong family in their lives. A purpose for life itself.’

  He took the ring and it fitted perfectly on his smallest finger. He returned the other half to her. ‘I’ll treasure it. Will you marry me so I can perform the custom of giving you the matching circle as a token of our love during our wedding ceremony?’

  ‘I love you,’ she said and threw her arms around him. ‘Thank you for asking. Yes.’

  He’d not even noticed that he’d held his breath while he waited for her answer, until she’d spoken.

  This time, when he heard the word love, it was as if he’d been given a pair of wings that could take him anywhere.

  He pulled her into his arms, the kiss blazing and nothing else mattering in the world.

  Then he stepped back and slipped the ring from his other smallest finger. ‘I have this for you, if you want it. I chose it for you, hoping you would some day be my wife. And if not, I would always have it as a memento of our time together.’

  She reached up and clasped her fingers around his, their hands together, holding the jewel. And the devotion in his eyes pulled her closer and she knew she’d made the right decision and the one that would build her strength, her heart and her happiness.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  The month following the wedding had been one of the most blissful of Rachael’s life. She’d wanted a simple wedding. Vows spoken softly and a quiet wedding breakfast, but Devlin would have none of it.

  He insisted that it would be best to show everyone that theirs was a true love match and that they’d discovered each other on the night of his mother’s party, and it had been a quick path to what would be everlasting devotion.

  The newspaper had even reported their happy news and claimed that the true reason for Rachael’s broken betrothal was that once she and Devlin had met, he’d known that she was the spark in his life and she was the flame in his. The article made twenty-three flammable references.

  Payton told her she should thank him as he had provided the story as he had been repeating it often enough.

  Devlin said it didn’t matter what was printed, all that concerned him was that they were together.

  Both his parents were at the wedding breakfast and, even though they did not always get on well, their connection was obvious. In public, they thrived on being a couple and, in the privacy of their home, they thrived on verbally jousting with each other. It was a marriage that they had made their own, an imperfect one at times, but one that suited them both.

  When she’d seen them together and saw their verbal jabs, Devlin confided to her that was how he’d developed the easy way he had and the ability to calm most situations. In part, his early life had trained him to soothe them and lighten the situation. But she had met his uncle and she saw the family charm that couldn’t be kept below the surface. A twinkling eye, a mouth that always ended in a smile and all the gentlemanly courtesies anyone could ask for.

  The biggest shock of the marriage hadn’t been that Devlin sometimes wore spectacles when he deciphered the smallest writing regarding his father’s properties, but that he found it so easy to shed the gaiety that he presented at parties and become silent when he was at home, comfortable with sitting beside her, poring over ledgers and writing instructions in the margins of them.

  She’d asked him why he wrote in the volumes and he’d been puzzled, telling her he’d never paid any attention, but he’d done it as he thought of what he’d just seen and it helped give them a record for the future.

  He and his father often shared breakfast, even if his father arrived late for it, and they always spoke of their properties and the course of action they should take to keep everything running smoothly.

  His mother avoided the breakfast table, but Rachael had taken to eating with them and they’d listened to her questions about her plans for the shop as if it were their own venture, yet neither had insisted she take their advice which they offered freely.

  Now she felt as comfortable in the house as if she’d been born there and no longer felt she had a tenuous slipper in society, but a well-placed one. She’d even looked through the fashion plates again and found the dress she’d thought much too costly and attention-grabbing for her. Devlin had told her she would look lovely in it and insisted she purchase it.

  And for the tenth time, Grimsley had reassured her that sales had doubled and their profits were even doing better. In only a few days, the new undertaking would open and he and the apprentice were both working long days to get everything in order.

  ‘I found Scamp,’ Devlin said as she stepped into the bedchamber, swirling the silken dressing gown around her like veils, letting the sunlight from the window reflect off them. She let the fabric float to her sides.

  ‘His owner was walking—well—creeping along with him and I stopped the carriage. He said he’d been visiting near my house one night and thought Scamp was asleep in his curricle, but when he’d returned Scamp had been gone. He was ever so relieved to see him again.’

  ‘Aren’t you happy that they were able to find each other? I would hate to think of keeping him when his owner had lost him.’

  He nodded. ‘It did please me. And I discovered that Scamp’s true name was Gerald, which made me take in how little I truly knew him. But the owner said I was free to stop by his home at any time if I wanted to visit with Gerald.’

  ‘That sounds lovely.’

  ‘To everyone but Scamp. He growled at me. I think he was afraid I’d take him from his owner and he’d have to find his way home again.’

  ‘Well, you proved with your devotion to a really frail-looking dog that you could be protective.’

  ‘But didn’t you already have an idea of that?’

  ‘Yes, I did. When you saw what was going to happen before anyone else and you grasped me up in your arms and smothered out the flames. I hate to think what would have happened if we hadn’t truly met that night.’

  ‘I suspect it was meant to be that we would encounter each other at a time in our lives when we were receptive to finding a true commitment,’ he said. ‘Just like the fact that I may have seen Scamp many times over the past few years, yet I never noticed him until I heard his barking near my house one night. In fact, had I left him on the street a little longer, his owner might have found him. He said he searched for him well into the night and the next day. But then a few days later, he drove his carriage by my house, still searching, called out and Scamp...er... Gerald, bounded out and to the carriage.’

  ‘Perhaps when we recognise something’s worth, that’s when we find it.’ Then she held out her finger so he could see the lustre of the stone.
>
  ‘I’m pleased you aren’t wearing one of the poison containers,’ he said, moving to her and holding up both her hands and giving an exaggerated inspection.

  ‘I like the one you gave me best,’ she said.

  ‘You seem at ease when you are out, wearing them.’

  ‘Yes.’ She pulled her hands free and studied the jewel. ‘I’m more comfortable now with the large ones that are noticed and pull the eye. With the smaller ones, I enjoy showing the craftsmen’s skill and the artistry. Each item we have is like a little treasure to me now. Even the buckles for shoes.’

  She slid against him and took off the small band on her finger. ‘This ring is of exceptional quality. The gold has been lightly mixed with other metals and still has a softness and a sheen that lets me know the value.’

  She held it up. ‘The engraving you added makes it even more precious. You warm my heart.’

  ‘And my life. With you by my side, I can see myself better. I don’t always like what I learn, but not everything that’s true is easy to accept.’

  He embraced her as she slipped the ring back on. ‘I hope you like it and all the changes in us that it will bring with it.’

  ‘I do. At first, being in society was a charade that I had to live, albeit a charming one. But now I don’t feel the same. It’s a part of me. I wear the jewellery like a cloak. A uniform. What I wear to go into the world and joust with others, or now even laugh with them. I am comfortable wearing it and at night, I’m comfortable taking it off.’

  His lips brushed her ears and she heard the intensity in his words. ‘I’m comfortable with your taking it off.’ His voice became serious. ‘The ornamentation doesn’t matter to me at all. The person on the inside is who I married.’

  ‘Mmm...’ she said, relaxing against him. ‘I do love you.’

  ‘Before you said you loved me, I realised I didn’t want to go anywhere but into your arms, your bed and hold you for the rest of my life. That one small word, which meant more than I ever expected, convinced me you would be the only one for me. For ever.’

  * * * * *

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  ISBN-13: 9780369711007

  A Cinderella for the Viscount

  Copyright © 2021 by Elizabeth Tyner

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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  Gwen closed her eyes tightly in an attempt to test whether this might be a dream, her imagination playing tricks on her.

  After all, she was here again by this magnificent tree, with echoes of her past all around her. Could she have conjured up something she wanted to be true?

  “Lady Gwenllian?”

  Seemingly she had not. The voice that carried in the soft breeze did appear to be one that resembled Ralph’s. Only it rumbled a lot lower, a lot deeper and belonged to a man.

  Yes, it seemed very real.

  Oh, God! Her knees felt like they might buckle beneath her.

  He was filling in the silence as he continued to explain. “I did not mean to distress you. I know this must come as a huge surprise but...it became imperative that I had to tell you about this myself.”

  Gwen still could not find her voice, as her head swirled around trying to comprehend this new discovery.

  “Is it really you?” she whispered.

  “It is. Yes.”

  Author Note

  Medieval tournaments were imported from France in the twelfth century and formed a significant part of strengthening a knight’s command and prowess that he could later adopt in warfare.

  They were also a great form of entertainment for both commoners and nobles alike, as they watched mounted and armored combats, or melees, fought in both one-on-one contests and in team events over several days.

  Tournaments sponsored by rich nobles were also a way to make silver, provided the risk of injury was acknowledged, since many knights were wounded. This was the main objection to tournaments by clerics and some monarchs, including Henry III—although not at the beginning of his reign, when this book is set.

  The pageantry of tournaments also allowed the ideals of courtly love to be expressed, when ladies would gift a favor or token to their chosen champion. It is this, or rather the reverse, that occurs in this book when Ralph de Kinnerton returns a token gifted to him by his old love, Lady Gwenllian ferch Hywel, and inadvertently opens up the heartache from the past.

  Can they find a way back to each other?

  I hope you enjoy their story.

  The Return of Her Lost Knight

  Melissa Oliver

  Melissa Oliver is from southwest London, UK, where she writes historical romance novels. She lives with her gorgeous husband and equally gorgeous daughters, who share her passion for decrepit old castles, grand palaces and all things historical. When she’s not writing, she loves to travel for inspiration, paint, and visit museums and art galleries.

  Books by Melissa Oliver

  Harlequin Historical

  Notorious Knights

  The Rebel Heiress and the Knight

  Her Banished Knight’s Redemption

  The Return of Her Lost Knight

  Visit the Author Profile page

  at Harlequin.com.

  To my beautiful mother, who is always in my heart.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  CHAPTER ONE

  1221—outside Castle Pulverbatch,

  near Shrewsbury, England

  He saw her th
en. The woman who had broken his heart all those years ago.

  Ralph blinked beneath the iron helmet and felt his pulse quicken. He felt the blood drain from his face and not because of apprehension over the punishing exercise about to commence in the clearing. No, it was from the shock of seeing the familiar woman, with flaxen hair covered with a gossamer-thin veil, sitting in the spectators’ area.

  A lump formed in his throat, almost choking him.

  Lady Gwenllian ferch Hywel of Clwyd.

  He would have recognised her anywhere, but she was here at this tournament, outside Shrewsbury, after all this time. He hadn’t seen her for six long years—the woman he had been betrothed to. The woman who had been his companion and to whom Ralph had thought he’d be bound for ever.

  But it wasn’t to be.

  God, but he had hoped to have forgotten it all. And for a time he had. After he had been attacked two years ago, near the small village of St Jean de Cole in Aquitaine, and left for dead, Ralph had temporarily lost his memory, but everything had come back to him, with a flourish. The loss of his father, the loss of his castle and surrounding demesne lands. And the loss of the woman he had loved. All gone within a heartbeat, leaving devastation and heartache in its wake.

  ‘Is everything well?’ His friend, Sir Thomas Lovent, acting as his squire, glanced at him from beneath a deep hood with barely disguised concern as he passed his shield and the blunt sword Ralph used for practice for a tournament such as this. Tom pulled his hood over his head to conceal his face further, but managed to give him a sly look, raising his brow as he waited for an answer.

  ‘Yes, all is well.’

  Ralph watched the assembled group of knights from the retinue of William Geraint, Lord de Clancey—of which he was a part—pitted against another lord’s group of knights. They were all making last-minute preparations, flexing their arms before the tournament ceremony began with an exhibition in combat, where knights could test each other’s mettle.