“Cordelia,” he groaned, his seed spilling as he came apart in her arms. Collapsing on top of her, he gathered her close, their hearts beating together.
She was his forever.
Chapter Sixteen
In the first rays of the morning light, Ash walked Cordelia to the kitchen door. She didn’t even bother going to bed. Instead, she made her way to the music room, and sat in front of her pianoforte.
She’d hardly played for the past few days, but now, music itched through her fingers. Plunking at the keys, each bar flew from her hands and she pulled out empty sheets, grabbing a quill to write the piece.
She lost track of time, the sun rising high in the sky as she worked.
“Have you eaten?” Ophelia asked, as she gently set a plate of food next to Cordelia.
Cordelia rubbed her eyes. “Oh. I didn’t see you come in. What time is it?”
“Nearly eleven,” her sister answered. “You’ve been at it for hours. Inspired?”
“Yes.”
Ophelia sat on the bench next to Cordelia, handing her sister a piece of toast. “Eat.” When Cordelia had taken a bite, Ophelia leaned back. “Does this have anything to do with Lord Dashlane talking to father in his office?”
She started. “He’s talking with father? Now?”
Ophelia raised a brow. “Take another bite and answer my question first.”
“Yes. It has everything to do with him.” Heat climbed up her cheeks. She didn’t tell her sister what they’d done but she could tell her about his proposal. “He’s asked me to marry him and I’ve accepted.”
Ophelia clapped. “And you’re playing? What does he think of you pursuing a career as a composer?”
Cordelia looked down at the keys. “He supports it. He knows I will not just be his wife.”
Ophelia drew in a gasp. “Oh, that is wonderful.” Then she threw her arms about Cordelia.
She returned her sister’s hug. “If I eat the rest of this toast, can I get back to work? This piece. It’s crying to come out.”
Ophelia nodded but made no move to get up.
Cordelia raised a brow as she took another bite. “You’re not leaving?”
Ophelia slowly shook her head back and forth. “Not until the toast is gone. And—” She wagged a finger. “I’m going to have to warn Lord Dashlane about your propensity to forget to eat and sleep when you’re invested in a project.”
Cordelia smiled at that and dutifully finished her toast and then turned back to her instrument. Ophelia cleared her throat. “A sip of tea too.”
With a soft sigh she did as her sister commanded, knowing it was the quickest way to return to work.
The day passed with her family coming in and out, feeding her, making her take short breaks.
By nightfall, she’d gotten the bones of the piece on the paper and her fingers relaxed. Her composition wasn’t done but it was getting there.
She heard someone enter the music room and she wrinkled her nose, knowing that either Bianca, Adrianna, or Ophelia was going to make her eat.
“I know. It’s dinner time,” she called over her shoulder, writing down the series of notes that would be the crescendo.
“It is,” a deep voice responded. “And I have not seen my fiancée the entire day.”
Dropping the quill into the ink, she turned back to look at Ash. “You’re here,” she gushed, raising her arms to him.
“I’m here,” he said. “I’ve been here all day.” He slipped his arms about her, taking a seat next to her on the bench. “But you’ve been gone for most of it.”
She looked down at the ivory keys. “I can be like this sometimes. A song gets in my head and I have to work until it’s all out.”
“It’s all right,” he answered, grazing a kiss on her temple. “It’s been lovely to watch. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
She looked into the deep blue of his eyes. “Really? I didn’t frighten you away?”
“Never,” he said, taking her hands in his. “And I’ve gotten some valuable lessons on how to care for you while you work.”
She gave him a beaming smile. “Do you want to hear it? It’ll be days of fine-tuning, but the structure is complete.”
He gave a quick nod. “I’d be honored.”
She perched her fingers over the keys. She didn’t need the sheet music she’d penned; the song was in her head. As the first notes echoed through the room, she closed her eyes and began to play. The music poured from her body. A love song. One filled with the highs, the joys, but also the uncertainty, the difficulty of baring one’s very soul to another person and the worry of rejection that went along with such a risk.
The soft ending lilted from her fingers, still not down on the paper, and she ended, opening up her eyes and grabbing her quill, furiously scribbling notes as it all came together.
Ash didn’t say a word as she finally dropped the quill into the ink with a deep exhale of satisfaction.
“Cordelia,” he said, his words strangling in his throat. “That was…” He swallowed. “I’ve no words to describe how much that song touched my heart.”
She looked at him then. “It’s about us.” She squeezed his fingers, realizing her own were stained with ink. “A moonlight serenade.”
He took her fingers and raised them to his lips. Then, dropping them down, reached with one hand into his pocket and pulled out a ring. A single round diamond sparkled in the candlelight.
She gasped. “This was my mother’s.”
He gave a stiff nod. “Someday, very soon, we’ll get you another.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want another. This is perfect.” He slipped the stone onto her finger.
“Cordelia Moorish.” His voice rose, filling the room. “I’d like to ask in front of your family. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
“Yes,” she answered, tears clogging her throat. “A hundred times, yes.”
Cheering erupted from behind them and she turned to see her entire family standing in the doorway. They were joined by their soon-to-be husbands, Charlie, and Balstead. Her eyebrows lifted to see Balstead next to Charlie once again, but she was soon distracted by her own appearance. She’d not even gone to her room to comb out her hair.
She looked down at her rumpled dress. “Oh dear.”
Ash leaned forward. “You’ve never looked more beautiful.”
* * *
Ash meant those words. More than any others in his entire life. Well, except for maybe when he’d told her loved her.
He itched to share the rest with her. The plans he and her father had made together today. But he waited, wanting her to be in just the right frame of mind.
“You are jesting,” she said as she smiled at their joined hands. Then she leaned forward. “Do I look as though I spent the night in the garden?”
He suppressed a laugh. Her dress was a bit wrinkled, her hair hung down her back in waves, and her hands had ink stains, but her cheeks were flushed pink with her joy and her eyes sparkled in the candlelight. “I wish to see you like this every day of my life.”
She winked at him. “Thank you. I need to stretch my back. What say you, we step out onto a balcony?”
He gave a quick jerk of his chin and then waved her family in, leading her through one of the doors and out into the night.
She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with air and stretching her back and he watched her, hunger making him reach out to touch her waist. “I spent the day with your father.”
She looked over at him, smiling. “Really? How was it?”
“Wonderful,” he answered honestly. “He’s a man of the highest quality.”
She turned to look at him, squinting as she assessed him, her head cocking. “Do you love me or are you marrying me for my father?” Then she gave a tinkling laugh and he joined her.
“I am most definitely marrying you, but I have to confess that your family is the type I’ve waited my whole life to belong in. The fact that I
get to be part of it…” He stopped, emotion overwhelming him.
She slipped her arms about him. “I’m glad too.”
He held her close. “Your father is going to have me travel back and forth to London. I can supervise the docks there, learn the business.”
She bit her lip, looking up at him with worried eyes. “You’ll be gone regularly?”
She swiped his thumb along her lip, and she released the flesh. This was what he’d been waiting to tell her. “And so will you.”
Her brow scrunched. “What?”
“We’ll travel together. You can sell your pieces, perform if you like.” He paused. “I’ll have to finish paying my father’s debts but with the salary your father is offering, by next year we can start building our forever home. And your father says one day he’ll retire, and I’ll take over.”
She smiled, then, the grin lighting the night or perhaps that was just his heart. “That is wonderful!” Then she squeezed him as her arms wrapped about his neck. “We’re going to build a beautiful future.”
“The best,” he answered, emotion clogging his throat as he held her tight to his chest. He swallowed. He’d managed to burn away his past after all this time. And what was left was a bright new future.
Epilogue
Two weeks later…
Cordelia stood on the veranda, her arm linked with her father’s.
“Are you ready?” he asked, giving her fingers a soft squeeze.
“I’m ready,” she said, bouncing on her heels. “I didn’t think I would ever marry, did you know that?”
“I had my suspicions,” he answered, patting again. “But I’m glad you changed your mind.”
“Me too,” she answered. “But you tell me why first.”
He chuckled. “I like all your sisters’ choices, but Lord Dashlane...” Her father stilled, looking out over the garden. “Ash feels like the son I never had. Together, we could build the business even stronger and,” he stopped, looking down at the ground, “your turn.”
She removed her arm to give her father a hug. “You deserve a man who feels like a son. Raising five daughters and all.” Then she let him go again, slipping her hand back into his arm. “He loves me for me and I for him. It’s not the typical marriage, but I have a feeling it’s going to suit us perfectly.”
He gave a single jerk of his chin. “I understand completely, and I am so happy for you.”
Ophelia appeared on the path to the secret little garden that Cordelia would now consider their spot for the rest of her life. She and Ash had decided it was the perfect place to hold their little ceremony.
Her sister clasped her hands. “Are you ready?”
Cordelia shook a bit, but she straightened her spine. “Ready.”
Her father led her down the path to where Ash waited. She barely glanced at the other guests as her eyes locked with Ash’s. Taking his hands, she barely heard the words of the priest as the melody of their song hummed in her head.
When he leaned down to take her lips, she blinked, realizing the ceremony was over. “We did it,” he whispered softly. “You are now Lady Dashlane.”
She laughed softly, giving his hands a shake. “I am. I’d never thought of it that way.”
He pulled her into his arms and everyone around them cheered. “I can’t wait for our future.”
“Me either,” she breathed, and she kissed him again. When she finally pulled away, her eyes had misted with tears as she looked out at her assembled family and friends.
Bianca wiped at her eyes. “I can’t believe another wedding is over already.”
Cordelia gave her sister an affection glance, happiness rising up into her chest. “Fortunately for us, we’ve a few more weddings to go.” Then she looked to Charlie and winked.
What a day that wedding was going to be…
Who Wants a Brawling Baron
Romancing the Rake Book 6
Tammy Andresen
Lady Charlotte Summerset lounged back on a velvet settee, as conversation swirled about her.
Normally she’d be at the center of the vortex, at her best in a social situation, but the past few weeks had been anything but normal.
First, her brother had hauled her from London and the season, out to the country, for lord knew what purpose. It was supposed to be a quick trip.
But then her cousin, the Duke of Rathmore, had announced his engagement. And just like that, they’d been travelling the opposite direction of London, heading to the sea and the home of the Moorish family in the quaint little village of Seabridge Gate.
She drew in a deep breath, filling her lungs with the sea air that wafted in from the open French doors all along the music room. They opened onto a series of balconies that looked out over the water and allowed guests to filter in and out of the room.
Then, in the strangest turn of events yet, her own very serious brother had fallen in love and married all within a week. Not that she objected to her brother’s choice of bride. Juliet Moorish was wonderful, kind, and had literally saved Charlie’s life a few days before. Juliet would make a lovely sister-in-law.
But now, her brother had left on a honeymoon, leaving her in the care of the Moorish family, only a few weeks left before London emptied and the season was over for good.
And she’d missed the entire affair. Every sparkling, jewel-like moment. Gone. It wouldn’t return until next year.
She took a sip of the light and bubbly beverage someone had handed her as she continued to lounge. The Moorish family was lovely, of course.
They were kind, sweet, effervescent ladies who had welcomed her to their home, but Charlie missed the glitter of London. Truth be told, she missed the array of suitors who’d showered favor upon her.
Dane had told her that she ought to marry one of them. And she would eventually. After a few more seasons. But she wasn’t ready to settle down yet. She liked to be adored. Was that so wrong?
She ignored the little voice that told her she was being selfish. That she was using their affection to fill the hole in her heart.
Instead, she rose from the settee and smiled at her cousin. “I’m going to step outside for a moment. I’m rather warm.”
He nodded, not breaking from his conversation with his fiancée. Charlie was certain that he thought she meant the balcony. Perfectly safe, completely chaperoned.
But instead she slipped through the door into the hall and headed for the main stairs. Being in this quiet village had allowed her far too much time to think. To remember.
She started down the hall, glass still in hand, and she took a generous swallow. No amount of exercise had quieted her swirling thoughts. How had her brother managed to move past the loss and open up his heart to Juliet?
He’d been older, she supposed, when their life had been forever altered. One day they’d been a happy family and the next…both her parents gone forever. She’d only been thirteen. Already so insecure.
A fresh tear dotted her eye, but she refused to let it out. What she needed was a distraction.
The sound of carriage wheels grinding along the gravel path made her head snap up. Who would be arriving at this time of night? It had to be past nine o’clock.
Rather than continue on down the stairs, she ducked into a shadow wanting to know who had arrived.
On schedule, the butler appeared below, making his way to the door, even as the bell rang throughout the grand entry.
Charlie’s breath caught, excitement making her chest a bit tighter. Somehow, the arrival of another guest seemed almost an answer to the prayer she’d sent up.
She’d wished for a distraction. Who might this be?
Another handsome lord?
Then she shook her head. So foolish. It was likely nothing more than a merchant. Or a farmer from the village.
But as the door swung open, a massive man entered the foyer.
Her gaze started at the tall black hessians that were polished to a shine and encased massive calves. Her eyes continue
d higher, noting the tightness of his breeches, his muscular thighs.
Charlie let her gaze trail higher to his broad chest, strong shoulders, and thick neck. Her gaze finally settled on his jet-black hair, glinting in the candlelight. His stern features were set in serious lines that she’d recognize anywhere.
In front of her stood the Baron of Balstead.
She barely managed to hold in her gasp. She knew the man. She’d even danced with him once. He’d held her waist with a possessive power that had left her breathless. Where other men showered attention on her, he’d captured all hers with a single glance.
But their dance had never been repeated.
He’d never so much as looked at her again.
“Good evening,” the butler gave a stiff bow.
“Good evening,” he replied, handing the man a card. “I apologize for the lateness of my arrival, but I am hoping you might deliver this to the man of the house.”
With a curt nod, the butler turned and headed back up the stairs. Charlie ducked deeper into the shadows until he’d passed and then she hurried into the light, stopping at the top of the stairs.
Looking down, her gaze clashed with Balstead’s. “It’s you,” she uttered, quite without meaning to.
His eyes dark and unreadable, his lips turned down into a marked frown. “It’s me.”
* * *
“Damn it all to bloody hell,” Raithe muttered under his breath as he looked at none other than Lady Charlotte Summerset. The little brunette minx had played a starring role in more than one of his dreams of late, not that he was happy to see her.
There was no place in his life for such a woman. Not anymore.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, standing on the last step of the grand stair, a glass of bubbling champagne resting delicately in her tapered fingers.
What a Vulgar Viscount Needs: Romancing the Rake Book 5 Page 10
