A Duchess by Midnight (21 page)

Her shoe fell to the grass as he wrapped both of his arms around her trembling shoulders, drawing her in close, his hands supporting the back of her head as his fingers dove into the thick tangle of her curls. He murmured her name once, twice, and when she finally gathered the courage to look up at him she was stunned to see tears shining in the corners of his eyes. It was the most emotion he had ever shown her, at long last giving her a true glimpse at the man he kept hidden beneath his thick coat of armor.

“I never should have doubted you.” His voice, hoarse and raw and vulnerable, pulled at her heart. “For that I will always be sorry. To think of the pain I must have caused you…” He hissed out a breath. “Can you forgive me, Clara?”

A smile wobbled across her lips as she met his damp gaze. “I already have. Can you forgive me?”      

“Always.” Slowly, gently, tenderly, he lowered his head and brushed his mouth across hers. “You fixed me, Clara. I was like a broken clock with my gears and my springs torn all asunder. And then you came along with your bright smile and your silly little laugh and you fixed me. You brought light in a world haunted by darkness and shadows. You made me want to be better, Clara. You
made
me better.”

“What – what are you doing?” she gasped when he stepped back and knelt down on one knee.

“Something I bloody well should have done the day I met you.” Overhead the clouds suddenly shifted and moonlight streamed down, illuminating Thorncroft’s solemn expression as he patted the breast pocket of his tailcoat. “I have a ring, but I do not want to give it to you.”

Clara’s pounding heart stuttered a beat. “Oh. That’s – that’s fine, I suppose. I mean, I was not expecting–”

“I do not want to give it to you,” he interrupted, “because it belonged to Katherine, and when I ask you to be my wife I want it to be with something new. You are not a replacement, Clara. You never were. Katherine was a part of my past I will always treasure but you… you are my future. I love you, Clara Witherspoon, and I swear to love you until the end of my days.”

“I love you too you foolish man,” she said as tears born of pure happiness flooded her eyes.

Thorncroft lifted a brow. “Have I ever told you that you’re not very good for my self-confidence? It is not every day a duke gets down on one knee and proposes to the love his life, you know. The least you could do is refrain from calling me names.”

He started to rise but Clara, with a tiny gasp, pressed her hand on his shoulder to push him back down. “I thought you were going to propose!” she cried.

“I am. As soon as I have a ring. We can pick one out together. We’ll go tomorrow if you like.”

Her bottom lip puckered out. “But I do not
want
to wait.”

He grinned up at her. “Typical woman. What would you have me do, wrap a blade of grass around your finger? I will if that’s what you want but a ring of grass is hardly befitting of a future duchess.”

“Use my shoe,” she said impulsively.

Thorncroft blinked. “Your what?”

“My shoe! Do not move.” Crouching down she felt along the grass until she found her dancing slipper. “Here it is!” She shoved the shoe with its star shaped sapphire into his hand. “Use this.”

“It
is
a rather nice shoe,” Thorncroft remarked as he turned the slipper over. “Is this really what you want?”

“It is.”

“Very well.” He cleared his throat and dropped his head for a moment. When he lifted it again his gray eyes were completely cleared of the storms that had haunted him for far too long. In the dark, swirling depths of his gaze there was nothing but a deep, endless love. The same love Clara felt in her own heart. “Lady Clara Witherspoon, will you do me the honor of accepting this shoe and becoming my wife?”

“Yes!” she cried. “Oh yes. A thousand times yes.”

“I need your foot,” he reminded her when she kept all ten toes planted firmly on the ground.

“That would help, wouldn’t it?” On a whimsical laugh Clara extended her calf and Thorncroft gently held her ankle while he slipped the shoe on. When it was in place he kissed the sapphire jewel before rising to his feet.

“That’s it then, I suppose.”

“No, my love,” said Clara, her blue eyes shining as bright as the stars twinkling up high in the heavens. “It is only the very beginning.”

And so it was.

Clara and Thorncroft
were married on a bright, sunny day in the middle of August. The wedding was an intimate affair. Only close friends and family were in attendance. Most noticeably
not
invited? Lady Irene, Gabriella, and Henrietta.

Shortly after the ball Thorncroft paid a discreet visit to his future in-laws. In no uncertain terms he told them they were to leave Windmere and never return. At Clara’s insistence he reluctantly bought them a townhouse in London and gave both of her stepsister’s generous dowries.

It was more than any one of them deserved for the horrible way they had treated Clara over the years, but it eased her mind to know they would be well taken care of and she need never think of them again, which she didn’t.

For her wedding she wore a beautiful gown of soft ivory designed by none other than Mrs. Periwinkle. Per her groom’s request she left her hair down in a long tangle of coppery gold curls. Her brilliant smile was all her own. Oh, and her shoes?

White with sapphire stars, of course.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jillian Eaton grew up in Maine and now resides in Pennsylvania. When she isn't writing, Jillian is doing her best to keep up with her three very mischievous dogs. She loves horses, coffee, getting email from readers, ducks, and staying up late finishing a good book. 
She isn't very fond of doing laundry. 
www.jillianeaton.com

Lynette Swan doesn’t want a husband. But if she has any hope of keeping her sisters out of the poor house she needs to find one, and fast. Courtesy of a past scandal, however, finding a man willing to marry her is easier said than done and soon Lynette is so desperate she’s willing to consider almost anyone. Even Lord Nathaniel Blackbourne, the rake responsible for ruining her reputation…and breaking her heart.

For the Love of Lynette

Swan Sisters, Book One

“Are you awake
yet?”

Blinking drowsily at the sound of a deep - and painfully familiar - masculine voice, Lynette’s dark lashes fluttered on her pale cheeks as she slowly drew herself up from the dregs of unconsciousness and began to take note of her surroundings, first and foremost being the other occupant in the room with her.

Nathaniel Blackbourne.

Feeling the heavy weight of a blanket slung low over her hips she dragged it up to her chin before daring to open one eye and then the other, as though revealing one half of Nathaniel at a time would somehow lessen the blow of discovering that it all
hadn’t
been a bad dream and he really
had
saved her from being run over from a carriage and now she was…well, come to think of it Lynette hadn’t the faintest idea
where
she was.

Somewhere in his house, she would imagine, as nothing in the bedroom looked familiar. Although why he would bring her to his own private residence instead of taking her home was a mystery. As were the current whereabouts of Delilah and Temperance. She remembered them shouting at her to look out and the panicked expression on both of their faces as she stumbled and fell in front of an oncoming carriage, but after that her memory dimmed and save looking up to see Nathaniel’s vivid green eyes glaring down at her as he cradled her in his arms on the side of the road she could recall nothing.

Of all the men in London, why did
he
have to be the one to save her?

Resentment burned in her eyes as she turned her head and scowled at him. Lounging comfortably in a large upholstered chair with his legs sprawled out in front of him and his chin perched in the palm of his hand, he met her gaze and lifted a brow. 

“So you are awake. About bloody time. I have been waiting nearly an hour.”

Arrogant brute
, Lynette fumed as she struggled into a sitting position. As a young, impressionable girl of seventeen she’d been helpless to resist his charms, but now she was a woman full grown and she knew exactly what sort of man was hiding behind that charming smile. He was a rake and a rogue and she hated him.

She
hated
him.

Clutching the blankets against her chest with one hand as she leaned back against the ornate wooden headboard, she used the other to push her dark, tangled hair out of her face. The ends were still damp, which meant she couldn’t have been passed out for very long although it was impossible to judge the time given that every curtain in the bedroom was drawn and the only source of light came from two matching candles set on either side of the bed.

“What am I doing here?” she demanded. When she spoke her voice was hoarse and a dull ache reverberated inside of her head, as though some invisible person was wielding a hammer against her skull. She felt horrible, although she supposed, all things considered, she could have felt a great deal worse had Nathaniel not dragged her away from the deadly wheels of the carriage. Filled with conflicting emotions, she glared at him, hating that he was still every bit as handsome as she remembered. 

Surely time and a life poorly lived should have dulled his appearance, or at the very least added a thin veneer of verdigris. Instead, devil take him, he’d grown even more attractive with age. His hair was a bit longer, but the length helped to counterbalance his strong features and broad jaw
.
His eyes were still the same sharp emerald green that had captivated her all those years ago.
At the moment they held a glimmer of amusement, although he would have done far better to display at least a hint of remorse or at the very least shame for the horrible way he had treated her.

At her question his tawny brows drew together over the bridge of his nose and his mouth settled into a firm, flat line of thinly veiled annoyance. “You are here because I saved your life. You are welcome, by the by.”

Were Lynette in possession of Temperance’s unpredictable temper and penchant for saying whatever wild thought flew into her head, she might have made some scathing remark about how Nathaniel had
ruined
her life. But unlike her sister she was able to keep her emotions tightly contained and even though she would have much preferred to pick up the vase sitting on the bedside table and send it flying at his head, her expression remained completely neutral as she said, in a rather monotonous tone, “Thank you for saving my life. The effort you extended on my behalf is greatly appreciated.”

“There,” Nathaniel said with a smirking curl of his lips. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

Was he
trying
to incite her anger? For what possible purpose? Surely he didn’t think the actions he’d taken today made up for his actions all those nights ago by the fountain? If so, she was going to need to quickly disabuse him of such a notion. “Saving me from the carriage does not excuse nor erase your abominable behavior. You took advantage of me, Lord Townsend. And you did not even have the decency to own up to what you had done, but instead slithered away like the snake that you are. You might be able to fool others, but not me. I know who you are and what you have done and this – this new
act
of yours will not stand!”

It wasn’t
exactly
what Lynette had wanted to say if she ever crossed paths with Nathaniel again, but it was close enough. Chest heaving, head pounding, pulse racing, she waited with bated breath for his retaliation.

Taking his time, Nathaniel rubbed his chin before his eyes narrowed and he said, “What the devil are you talking about?”

Lynette’s mouth fell open. “You do not
remember
?” she cried incredulously.

“Remember what?”

“Unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath.

“What was that?” Nathaniel asked, leaning forward out of his chair. When she didn’t answer – in truth,
couldn’t
answer for all the emotions that were swelling up inside of her – he sat back and crossed his legs at the knee, a bemused expression on his face. “Have we met before?”

Her chin jerked in a sharp nod. “Yes,” she bit out. “Although it is apparent you do not remember. Tell me, is it because you throw yourself upon unwilling women so often you cannot tell one from the other, or because you are so dimwitted it is impossible for you to retain more than one thought in your brain at a time?”

Nathaniel’s eyebrows had begun creeping up his temple at the start of her tirade and by the end of it they were close to his hairline. “I believe there has been some mistake,” he began slowly before Lynette’s short bark of laughter cut him off.

“Mistake? The only mistake I ever made was listening to
you
. I want to leave now.” Gritting her teeth, she pushed back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. When she tried to stand up, however, an overwhelming wave of dizziness seized her and she fell back onto the mattress with a quiet ‘
oomph
’. As black dots danced in front of her eyes she lowered her head and clenched her teeth against the sharp, shooting pain resonating in the back of her skull.

“You are still hurt.” In an instant Nathaniel was by her side. Kneeling down, he rested one hand on her knee while the other gently lifted her chin, the calloused pad of his thumb brushing across her cheek. “Your pupils are dilated. You need to rest.”

“Do not touch me,” she said, swatting at his hand with as much strength as she could muster which unfortunately in her current state wasn’t very much. “I must return home at once. My sisters need me.” As a belated thought occurred, her eyes widened and she drew in a sharp intake of breath. “Where are they?” she demanded. “Where are Temperance and Delilah? What have you done with them?” Her fingers tightened around the blanket as she began to imagine all sorts of horrible scenarios. Temperance may have technically been an adult, but her good judgement was shaky at best while sweet, innocent Delilah would blindly follow her sister anywhere. They could have fallen into poor company or been set upon by riff-raff or wandered down to the docks or–

“I had them thrown into the Thames, of course.” Nathaniel sat back on his heels, countenance inscrutable save a faint tick of annoyance in his jaw.

Lynette gasped. “You–”

“Sent them home,” he said, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth as he studied her reaction. “They were soaked to the skin and shivering, so I sent them home to change and get some warm food in their bellies. Before you woke I sent one of my maids to check on them and ensure they were safe.” His face darkened into a scowl. “What do you take me for, a monster?”

Lynette hoped he’d meant the question as a rhetorical one, for she was quite certain he wouldn’t like her answer. Struggling to put the man she’d caught kissing another woman after he’d pledged his heart to her with the one who had been considerate enough to look after her sisters, she regarded him warily beneath a fringe of dark lashes. “How do I know you are telling the truth?”

“Why would I lie?”

Why would you not?

What sort of game was Nathaniel playing? Had she not known any better, she would have falsely assumed he was some sort of knight-in-shining-armor. A brave, heroic gentleman who had risked his own life to save hers before bringing her back to his own home to care for her. But she
did
know better, which meant she knew Nathaniel Blackbourne was as much a knight as she was a princess.

“I want to leave now,” she repeated. “My sisters need me.” Whatever ruse Nathaniel was planning, she wanted no part of it. He’d already ruined her life once. She had no intention of letting him do it again. But when she tried to stand a second time she had even less success than the first and her knees buckled before she took a single step.

“Stop trying to move,” he ordered in a tone that was surprisingly authoritative. Standing, he loomed over her, his large body thrown into silhouette by the flickering candlelight. “You’ll be little good to your sisters if you faint again. You need to rest. You took a serious blow to the head when you tripped and fell.”

“What – what are you doing?” Lynette asked weakly, when, without warning, Nathaniel scooped her up in his arms as though she weighed no more than a sack of feathers. Futilely kicking her legs, she tilted her head back and glared up at the bottom of his chin. “Put me down this instant, Lord Townsend! This is highly inappropriate and I will not be manhandled again! Do you hear me?”

Ignoring her protests, he swiftly carried her out the bedroom and down the hall. Lynette caught a glimpse of dark wood paneling and elegant sterling silver sconces before she was brought into a room easily three times the size of the last.

It only took one glance around to determine Nathaniel had brought her into the master bedchamber. Bookshelves lined the walls and a gaming table occupied the far corner. Draped in a sumptuous red silk cover, a four-poster bed dominated the room. Matching curtains covered the windows although one was pulled back just enough for Lynette to catch a glimpse of the sky.

The very
dark
sky.

Many more hours must have passed then she realized for day to have turned into night.

“What time is it?” she demanded of his chin. “At least tell me
that
much.” 

“Half past eight,” he replied before he carefully lowered her onto the bed. Onto
his
bed.

Lynette inhaled sharply as her head fell back against one of the pillows. It smelled of him. The entire room smelled of him because it was his room. He’d brought her into his private chambers and he’d tucked her into his bed. The place he slept every night. The place she might have ended up if they hadn’t been interrupted at the ball…

“I need to leave.” She struggled to push herself upright, small hands sinking into the thick covers. “I need to leave at
once
.”

“You need to rest.” Unfazed by her struggles, he adjusted the pillows behind her head and drew a blanket up to her waist. “You are at risk for a concussion. I could not in good conscious allow you to return home.”

Now
he chose to have a conscience?

Staring up at him in disbelief, Lynette uttered one single word. “Why?”

His took his time before answering. Brow furrowed, he crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels, gaze darting to the far wall before it flicked back to her face. For an instant so quick if she’d blinked she might have missed it, she saw an emotion in his piercing green eyes she wouldn’t have believed him capable of unless she’d witnessed it herself.

Regret.

“Let me help you. I owe you that much.” And without another word he turned and left the room, leaving Lynette staring after him in bewildered confusion.