The dining room was uncomfortably quiet that morning. Horatia ate only because she did not know what else to do. And even this she prolonged by prodding her food from one side of her plate to the other. Lady Rochester tried to engage her in conversation but Horatia's heart was too bruised to answer Lady Rochester's polite inquiries with much enthusiasm.Horatia's gaze was torn between her brother at the far end of the table and Lucien who sat two seats away. It should have been a wonderful, joyous morning. She was a woman now, had crossed that threshold from innocent maiden to sensual goddess in Lucien's arms last night, yet she felt robbed of her happiness. Cedric's decree that she must choose left an unsettling pit in her stomach.She raised her eyes from her plate to find Lucien watching her every move. All of the pain of her brother's words seem to fade. She made her decision. She would give Lucien time, let him decide how he felt. If in the end he wanted her then she would be wi
Half an hour before Christmas Eve dinner, Lucien paced nervously inside the vast Russell library, waiting for Cedric to arrive. Gone were the last remnants of his misplaced coldness towards Horatia. All that was left was a deep seed of love. He'd spent years salting his soul trying to prevent that seed from taking root. But Horatia had become his sun, his water, and fed that deep seed. Petals were unfurling, roots coiling deep in his heart. He was going to have a long talk with his friend and Cedric would see the light and let Horatia be with him and that was that. There was no going back; he'd crossed the final bridge and burned it to ashes.The library door opened and Cedric entered, looking as cold as the empty suit of armor that guarded it."I received your summons." His friend seemed to choose his words carefully.Lucien tried to smile, but his nerves were on edge. "I did not mean to 'summon' you. I wished to discuss something of importance." His stomach felt as though someone
"It is time, my lord," Felix whispered, rousing Lucien from his bittersweet dreams. With great care he disentangled his body from Horatia's. She remained asleep, but she spread one arm out unconsciously seeking his vanished warmth and Lucien felt her loss like a blow. He dared not touch her, dared not get too close or he'd wake her and never be able to leave.Lucien donned a pair of trousers, then hastily pulled on a shirt and green waistcoat. Without bothering with a cravat, he pulled on his boots and left the room. With a single look back at his bed Lucien silently bid farewell."Sleep, my dear, and dream of the stars."He slipped down the hall until he reached Lawrence's bedroom. He found the door unlocked and saw Lawrence lay sprawled on his stomach, entirely naked from what Lucien could see. He approached his brother's bed and shook his shoulder."Wake up, Lawrence."Lawrence swatted a hand in Lucien's general direction."Five more minutes, Tom." Tom was Lawrence's valet. La
Horatia woke to an empty bed and frowned. Something was wrong. A sense of foreboding rippled through her like the remnants of a nightmare teasing the edges of her waking mind. She slid out of bed and slipped her shift and dressing gown back on. She wanted to seek out Lucien immediately but it seemed better to be fully dressed, should she have to canvas the huge mansion to find him. She trod down the hall and slipped inside her room.She selected a gown that buttoned down the front, so as to avoid summoning Ursula. A moment after fastening the last button, she heard the distant crack of a gunshot. Horatia bolted to her window, which faced the northern field. She saw four distant shapes and a second crack cut across the field. One of the figures collapsed to the ground.A duel! Why hadn't she questioned Lucien? She'd sensed something was amiss last night, but she had ignored it. Why had she done that? In her panic she barely heard the door open behind her."A terrible thing, is it not
Thoughts drifted through the murky waters of Lucien's mind, jumbled and hazy. Horatia's soft smiles and shivery sighs, Cedric's haunted stare as he raised a pistol at him.His eyes wouldn't open and he couldn't move."Lawrence, try this," a feminine voice said.Something sharp penetrated Lucien's nose and shot straight to his brain. His eyes flew open and he surged upright, a pounding headache and pain in his side nearly making him cry out. Smelling salts. One never got used to them.Lucinda and Lawrence along with Sir John all stood watching him, eyes wide and worried."Cedric!" he shouted. Fear for his friend exploded into him as he remembered the duel. He was alive? Where was he now? His bedroom."Easy, Lucien, he's fine." Lawrence tried to still him with a firm hand but Lucien knocked it away. One thought formed more clearly now. He'd been too damned distracted to pay attention until now."Let me up, damn you! Where is Cedric? Where's Horatia?" He fought to be free of the ta
Horatia lay curled up against Lucien's body as he slept in his bed. No one dared to point out the impropriety of it and if they had Horatia would have screamed. As it was, everyone was very polite, even the doctor from Hexby, whom Gregory had returned with ten minutes after she, Lucien and Cedric had escaped the cottage.Lucien's injury from the duel had indeed been minor, a scratch. The doctor had assured them that head wounds, even grazes tended to bleed profusely. The concussion had been of far more concern, but that too had passed. Unless Lucien suffered an unexpected infection, he would be fine. Horatia hadn't left Lucien's side since they'd returned to the house, other than to quickly bathe and change. Now the doctor was attending to Cedric, who was resting in the room across the hall. Horatia stroked Lucien's hair back from his forehead and placed a delicate kiss to his brow."I cannot believe that Gordon escaped," she whispered. The idea that the man who had tried to kill her
Anne Chessley always seemed to forget how to breathe whenever she was near Viscount Sheridan. With short breaths she watched him walk down the aisle in St. George's. Light pierced the stained glass at the front of the church, showering a rainbow of colors onto the altar and the people gathered in the pews.Miss Sheridan and her brother moved arm in arm down the aisle. His free hand gripped a cane that he swept over the floor ahead of them. Music echoed off the walls and floated to the ceiling in a roar of wondrous sound. At the front of the church, near the altar, the Marquess of Rochester waited to receive his bride.A wedding of the ages. A rake reformedor so the Quizzing Glass had reportedand a quiet, beautiful woman, blossoming with love. Anne felt a little ache in her chest as she wished to be so fortunate.All too soon her attention was pulled back to Cedric. Even thinking of him made her so happy. Yet sadness lingered at the edges of her joy like shadows. Cedric's dark eyes r
BOOK THREE: Her Wicked ProposalLeague Rule Number 5:A man's best lover is a spirited lady, but one should treat spirited ladies the way one would a wild horse, with a firm hold and gentle voice.Excerpt from The Quizzing Glass Gazette, April 21, 1821, The Lady Society Column:Lady Society is in mourning. The dangerous rakehell Viscount Sheridan has been rendered blind. She cannot help but miss those dark brown eyes that scorched more than one innocent young lady's heart as he watched them from the shadows of a ballroom. Oh, my dear Viscount Sheridan, won't you come out into society again? Lady Society is issuing you a challenge. Do not hide from her, or else she will unearth those secrets you hold most dear.Perchance there is a lady who might yet tempt your sightless eyes and convince you to live again. Would you not like a woman once more to warm your bed? A woman to tame your wicked heart?London, April 1821Using his silver lion's head cane, Cedric, Viscount Sherid