He dipped his chin. It wasn’t often her father managed to appear sheepish. But then he just as quickly glared in her direction. “I don’t know what it’s going to take to get you married. You don’t seem to understand that I can’t watch out for you forever.”
“Well, I won’t be forced.” She glowered back at him. She had him precisely where she wanted. “But…”
He shot her a weary glance. “But…?”
“I can perhaps be persuaded.” She delighted in the fact that his eyes lit up.
“To… marry?”
“If you meet my terms.”
At her response, he threw back his head and laughed out loud. “By God, no one can ever accuse you of being anyone’s daughter but mine.”
Charley met his gaze and lifted her chin. “Lord Westerley has offered for me.”
That light in his forest green eyes brightened. “And?”
“I will agree to it, on three conditions.”
He subdued his enthusiasm slightly but was rubbing his hands together. “And they are?”
“Firstly,” Charley began, “You will continue developing the whiskeys I’ve been working on back home. And you will market them and price them according to the business plan I showed you.” She narrowed her eyes. “Six months before we left for England.”
He was nodding however. “I believe I can manage that. What is your second… demand?”
She inhaled and then exhaled slowly. “You promise never to use slaves. Ever.”
She watched as his jaw tensed, his whole person really. “I’ve already addressed this with you—”
“Then I shall return to Philadelphia, with or without your permission, and I will do everything I possibly can to discredit Jackson Whiskey. I dedicate myself to protesting the president and all aspects of slavery. I will write articles for the papers, I will go to your competitors. I will—”
“God damnit, Charley. Fine.”
Charley nearly tripped over her own feet. “What did you say?”
“I said fine. I’ll not use slaves. Will that make you happy?” Large wrinkles furrowed his brows and frown lines carved out the bottom half of his face, but…
A little flutter of excitement danced up her spine. “Excellent.” She knew better than to make a big deal out of his capitulation.
And then he turned his head to stare off into the distance. “Your mother didn’t like it either.” Charley’s heart stopped at the reminder. How had Charley forgotten something like that? A burning feeling settled in her chest and her eyes stung.
“Was that why she didn’t like living in America?” Not simply because it wasn’t proper enough? The hope that she’d had something so important in common with her mother was… everything.
The revelation nearly sent her reeling.
“It was one of her reasons. She insisted that it was inhumane, pointed out the laws England was passing to stop the slave trade. Said she’d take you and never come back if I so much as put a single slave to work… She was already gone when I seriously contemplated it.” He shook his head, as though to dismiss his melancholy, and then held her gaze with his. “Sometimes you are so much like her… Don’t know what I’ll do without you, despite you being a giant thorn in my side. But always know you are everything I could have ever asked for in a daughter. I’m so damn proud of you, Charley.”
Upon hearing these words, the stinging in her eyes gave way and long-suppressed tears streamed down her face. It was the most personal thing he’d ever said to her.
He’d never told her he was proud of her. Not once. In all this time…
“I love you.” Unable to contain herself, Charley flung herself across the few feet that separated them and buried her face against his shoulder. When his arms wrapped around her, she cried even harder. “I’m going to miss you dreadfully.”
They stood there for all of a minute, which might as well have been a lifetime for her father, before Charley pulled herself together and, wiping her eyes with her sleeve, stepped back.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“What?”
“Your third condition?”
She swallowed the huge lump of emotion that had formed in her throat and nodded. “Just that you visit England, or Jules and I come to Philadelphia, at least once every five years. I won’t have my children not knowing their grandfather.”
His brows shot up. “Jules, eh? Not His Lordship? That sounds awfully familiar.”
And damned if that didn’t send a flush to her cheeks. Because she and Jules were becoming quite, quite familiar with one another.
“The wedding’s in two weeks,” she confessed.
And with that, the American Whiskey King threw back his head for the second time that morning and roared with laughter. “Double-crossed by my own daughter.” But his eyes twinkled when they landed back on hers.
Charley reached a handout, “We have a deal then?”
Shaking his head ruefully, her father grasped hers and gave it a shake. “That we do, Charlotte Arabella Jackson. I believe we do.”
Jules smiled to himself from where he watched Charley and her father through the window. Although several yards distant, he could make out that they were shaking hands, and by the skip in her step, she seemed quite pleased with herself.
Seeing her happy squeezed his heart. He’d spend the rest of his life doing whatever was required to ensure that she never regretted marrying him.
“Stone insists that you cannot balance two balls on top of one another.” Chase’s voice taunted him from across the room.
“Doubting me, Spencer?” Jules turned his back to the window as the soft music Peter had been playing on his cello went silent.
“It’s physically impossible.” Mantis studied the felt surface with a scowl.
Stone was studying Jules, tossing one of the balls back and forth between his two hands.
“What are you betting, Stone?” the marquess asked. “And how many attempts is Westerley allowed?”
This was always the tricky part. A few hundred pounds was one thing, an embarrassing or uncomfortable stunt, quite another. But Jules merely rocked on his heels and waited.
“One attempt.” Stone too, was examining the table. “If you fail, I’ve the use of your baby throughout the Season.”
This was a tricky proposition, indeed. Although, there was something he wanted from Stone, as well… And if he took Charley up north to tour the distilleries for a wedding trip, he’d not have need of his prized vehicle anyway. Risk would be minimal.
“If I succeed”—Jules withdrew two balls from the pocket nearest him—“in balancing these two balls atop one another, I’ll expect a boon.”
“So long as you don’t expect me to act as your butler.” Stone grinned.
Mantis flicked his gaze toward Greys, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Speaking of which, when do you expect Blackheart to join your London staff?”
“One week before the Season commences.”
“Do you agree to a boon then?” Jules addressed Stone again, who then nodded.
“Very well.”
Charley apparently wasn’t only adept at cards and had shown the trick to him the afternoon before… after Jules had shown her a few tricks of his own, realizing that the felt table came in quite handy for—
Jules forced the memory to the back of his mind before he created an embarrassing distraction for himself.
“Only one attempt,” Stone confirmed, looking satisfied with himself. And he should look satisfied, Jules conceded, because balancing two round objects atop one another was an impossible feat.
Unless, that was, the balls were supplied by a feisty American redhead.
Ominous notes sounded from the corner where Peter was kindly providing a musical dose of dramatic tension.
Very well then. Jules flexed his hands around the balls, cradling them, and then lowered one to the felt. Once he was certain he’d placed the red ball correctly, he set the green ball on top of i
t, shifted it slightly, and feeling less than one hundred percent honorable, backed away from the table.
In the spirit of showmanship, Jules reached for the nearest cue stick, lined up the cue ball, and with one smooth stroke, sent the red ball rolling into the side pocket, leaving the green ball to drop to the table —where it sat motionless—in its place.
“What the hell?” Stone came forward and retrieved the red ball to study it. “This ball’s been altered.”
Jules merely tipped his head. “A bet’s a bet.”
“He did say, and I quote, ‘balance these two balls on top of one another,’” Mantis offered helpfully.
“Damn you, Jules.” Stone was scowling now. “What’s this boon?”
“I’m going to take Charley up north for a wedding trip, which means we won’t be in London for the first half of the Season. I’m going to surprise her.”
“The distilleries?” Peter asked.
“Every last one between here and the North Pole.” Jules grinned.
“And what does this have to do with the boon?” Stone was scowling. It really had not been a fair bet. Not sporting of Jules at all.
“Tabetha is making her come-out.” The mere thought of his youngest sister on the marriage mart had him gritting his teeth.
“What, you want me to dance with her a few times?”
Jules was quite certain Tabetha was not going to be in need of dancing partners. “Watch over her. Keep her out of trouble.”
The room fell silent at the request.
“What of Lady Bethany?” Mantis queried.
Chase laughed out loud. “Jules doesn’t have to worry about Bethany. She’ll be more concerned that her hostess’s chairs line up perfectly than she’ll care about filling her dance card. Last night I caught her measuring the distance between your mother’s candlesticks.” Chase shook his head.
Greys raised his brows. “Would you care to wager on that, Chaswick?”
Jules glanced at the marquess. What the devil? But then Stone touched his arm. “I’ll keep Tabetha out of harm’s way. You have my word.” The sincere expression on his friend’s face meant a great deal to him.
“I appreciate that.”
“And for the record, you didn’t have to win a bet for me to do it.”
Jules knew this. “For the record, you are welcome to use my curricle until Charley and I return.”
A knock sounded on the door. “Thank God,” Chase intoned. “I thought for a moment the two of you were going to break into song.”
“Come in.” Jules dismissed the Baron’s sarcasm and moved quickly toward the door. Anticipation had his heart dancing because he was ninety-nine percent sure it was…
The door opened.
Her eyes. He tended to notice her eyes first whenever she entered a room. And then those lips, which in this moment were tilted into a satisfied smile. As proud as he was to show her off as his fiancée, Jules was even more anxious to get her alone.
“My father is prepared to speak with you,” she informed him.
Ominous music played hauntingly from the corner, followed by laughter all around. Peter was quite enjoying himself this morning.
Jules sent a scowl over his shoulder.
“Where is he?” He placed his hand on the small of her back. He was finding it quite impossible to be in the same room without touching her somehow.
“He is in the morning room.” Her smile grew. “And I believe you will find him quite amenable.”
Wishes of luck followed Jules and Charley, as the two of them exited into the foyer. But Jules didn’t march directly to meet with Jackson. The moment the door closed behind them, he pinned Charley to the wall and captured her lips for a heady good morning kiss.
“I missed you last night,” he whispered against her mouth. Although they managed to slip away to the orangery a few times, her maid was always hovering in the evenings.
Jules wasn’t getting much sleep lately and found himself counting the days until he could have her in his bed every night.
“Missed you,” she mumbled back, her slender fingers threading themselves in his hair. “Thirteen more days,” she reminded him.
“And thirteen more nights,” he moaned, loving the feel of her laughing and somehow knowing he’d always want more of this.
She broke the kiss and leaned back in his arms. “He agreed to everything, Jules!” Her eyes were shining from joy and her lips shined from his kiss.
“Your blend?”
“Yes.” She nodded.
“And no slave labor?”
She nodded again. “But, Jules—he told me my mother opposed it too. And that I reminded him of her that way. And that he was proud of me.”
As a tear spilled past her lashes, Jules caught it with his lips. “Of course, he’s proud of you.” And her words struck something in him.
Charley wasn’t going to be a typical countess. She was going to be a magnificent countess.
“I think my father would have liked you, Charley.” His own words gave him pause. His father would have loved that Jules was marrying a woman that wanted fairness and justice for others, not only for her own kind.
“He would have been proud of you.” She gazed up at him and Jules was once again lost in her eyes. “As will your mother.”
They didn’t need anyone’s approval but each other’s, but it sure was nice to think they had it, all the same.
He inhaled and straightened his shoulders. “Well, my American bride, shall we locate your father?”
She nodded. “But, Jules, you forget. I’m fifty percent English.”
He couldn’t help but kiss her once more for that. “Touché. And I.”
Kiss.
“Am One hundred percent.”
Kiss.
“Besotted.”
* * *
THE END
* * *
What happens when Jules and Charley are touring the distilleries, leaving all these gents alone with his sweet sisters? The Regency Cocky Gents Series continues with Cocky Baron.
Cocky Baron
Preorder Available: Releases Oct. 13th
Chase and Bethany
A Secret Crush.
Her brother's best friend—who happens to be a rake!
A scandal to rock all scandals
Coming Fall 2020
Cocky Baron
Oct. 13, 2020
Chase and Bethany
A Secret Crush. Her brother's best friend
A scandal to rock all scandals
* * *
Cocky Mister
Dec. 7, 2020
Stone and Tabetha
An ambitious debutante
A man without a title
Sometimes the best laid plans are meant to go awry…
* * *
Mayfair Maiden
Dec. 8, 2020
You can also read
Peter Spencer’s Story!
Spinoff from the Lord Love A Lady Series AND The Regency Cocky Gents
A Novella written to release with the
12 Days of Christmas: Book 8
Regency Cocky Gents Series
Cocky Earl
Jules and Charley
An honorable earl. An American heiress.
And a losing bet that changes everything
Cocky Baron
Chase and Bethany
A Secret Crush. Her brother's best friend
A scandal to rock all scandals
Cocky Mister
Stone and Tabetha
An ambitious debutante
A man without a title
Sometimes the best laid plans are meant to go awry…
Cocky Viscount
Felicity and Mantis
Cocky Marquess
Greystone’s Story
Cocky Butler
Blackheart’s Story
Mayfair Maiden
Peter Spencer’s Story
Ruined
Lord Major Lucas Cockfield’s Story
His Story
Releases Jan. 12, 2021
Book 23 of the Wicked Earls Club
The Lord Love a Lady Series
Nobody’s Lady
Lily’s Story (The Duke of Cortland)
* * *
A Lady’s Prerogative
Lady Natalie’s Story (The Earl of Hawthorne)
* * *
Lady Saves the Duke
Abigail’s Story (The Duke of Montford)
* * *
Lady at Last
Penelope’s Story (Viscount Danbury)
* * *
Lady Be Good
Rose’s Story (Viscount Darlington)
* * *
Lady and the Rake
Margaret’s Story (The Marquess of Rockingham)
Turn the page to read the first chapter
Devilish Debutantes Series
Hell Hath No Fury
Cecily and Stephen Nottingham
* * *
Hell in a Hand Basket
Sophia and Devlin
* * *
Hell Hath Frozen Over (Novella)
The Duchess of Prescott and Mr. Findlay
Cocky Earl: A Regency Cocky Gents Novel Page 28
