Jacquie D'Alessandro - [Regency Historical 04] (30 page)

Victoria’s vision blurred and she blinked back the tears hovering on her lashes. Then she raised her gaze to her father, who regarded her with a questioning expression.

“Well?” he asked.

A half laugh, half sob burst from her. “Let’s get this carriage turned around.”

Nathan stood at the shore, staring at the white-capped waves that pounded relentlessly at the rocks and sand. The wind was picking up, warning of an approaching storm, and the somber gray sky perfectly matched his mood.

Had she only left two hours ago? Had it only been one
hundred and twenty short minutes since it felt as if his soul had been ripped out? Bloody hell. His heart felt…gone. As if the only thing holding up his head were his lungs—and they hurt.

He dragged his hands down his face. Damn it, he’d done the right thing for her by letting her go. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Nathan.”

He whipped around at the sound of her voice and stared, dumbfounded. She stood not ten feet away, clutching a piece of folded ivory vellum marked with his seal in red wax to her chest. But it was the look in her eyes that simultaneously stilled him and roared hope through him. A look filled with so much longing and love that he was afraid to blink lest he discover this was some sort of wishful dream.

Rooted to the spot, he watched her approach. When less than a foot separated them, she reached out and laid her hand against his cheek.

“There is absolutely nothing ordinary about you, Nathan,” she said in a shaky whisper. “You are extraordinary in every way. And I’ve known that since the first moment I set eyes on you three years ago.”

He turned his face and kissed her palm, then took her hand and clasped it between his. “Your father gave you my note.”

Still clutching the vellum, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You can thank him later.”

“I wanted you to have time to think—”

“I’ve had plenty of time. I’ve done nothing
but
think. I know what I want.”

“And what is that?”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Very sure.”

“You,” she whispered, her gaze steady on his. “You.”

All the spaces inside him that less than a minute ago had seemed so desolate and empty, now filled to overflowing. Taking her hands from around his neck, he held them between his. “I once told you that I would only marry for love.”

“I remember.”

He dropped to one knee before her. “Marry me.”

Her chin quivered and her eyes flooded. Tears slipped silently down her cheeks and plopped onto their joined hands.

Nathan stood and frantically patted his waistcoat in search of his handkerchief. Finding the square of white linen, he dabbed at her wet cheeks. “Don’t cry. God,
please
don’t cry. I simply can’t stand it.” He swore softly and continued to dab as her tears fell unabated. Finally he gave up and simply brushed his thumbs over her wet cheeks.

“I’m not a rich man, but I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’re always comfortable,” he vowed, hoping his words would comfort her. “We’ll spend part of our time in London—I’ll proudly escort you to the opera, even though I’m quite sure ‘opera’ is Latin for ‘death by unintelligible music.’ I’ll attend whatever soirees you wish, then make love to you during the carriage ride home. And again once we arrive home. I don’t have much to give, but everything I have I offer to you. And I’ll love you every day for as long as I live.”

Victoria looked into his eyes and saw everything she’d never known she always wanted. Probably next week she’d come up with a brilliant reply to his lovely words, but for now all she could do was speak her heart. “I’ve come to realize that it doesn’t matter where I am, as long as I’m with
you. And I’ve even grown fond of your menagerie. I already adore B.C. and Boots, and I’m certain Petunia and I can come to an understanding about what she can and cannot eat.” She blinked back a fresh wash of tears. “I love you, too. So very much. It would be my honor to be your wife.”

“Thank God,” he muttered, pulling her close. His lips captured hers in a long, deep, lush kiss that left her spinning.

When he finally lifted his head, she said in a breathless voice, “You know, I
do
come with a dowry.”

“Do you? I’d quite forgotten.”

And that, Victoria decided, was the loveliest gift a woman who’d always known she’d be married for her money could have received.

Six weeks later

N
athan stood at the altar in the small parish church his family had attended for generations and watched his beautiful bride walk slowly toward him. Dressed in a simple pale blue gown with a modest square neckline and puffed sleeves, carrying a bouquet of pastel roses, she took his breath away. When she reached him, he smiled.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered.

“So do you,” she whispered back with an answering smile.

The vicar cleared his throat and shot them a frown.
The ceremony proceeded without incident until the vicar intoned, “If there is anyone present who knows of any reason why these two people cannot be joined in holy wedlock, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Nathan cleared his throat. “I have something I need to say.”

The vicar’s brows shot up to his hairline. “You do?”

“Yes.” He turned to Victoria. “I need to tell you something.”

She paled. “Dear God,” she whispered. “This can’t be good.”

“It seems quite obvious to me that you have every intention of seeing this ceremony through to its conclusion,” he said.

“That was my plan, yes.”

“Excellent. Then in the spirit of making a full disclosure before we’re officially man and wife, I want you to know I’m, um, no longer of modest means.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean His Majesty has given me a very handsome reward for the return of the jewels.”

“How handsome?”

He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. “One hundred thousand pounds.” He leaned back, enjoying her look of utter shock. “And then there’s the house.”

“House?” she repeated weakly.

“In Kent. About three hours outside London. Just a modest estate, according to His Majesty. Probably no more than thirty or so rooms. Lots of space for your soirees, lots of acreage for my animals.”

She gaped at him. “How long have you known about this?”

“Your father told me only moments ago—just before he escorted you down the aisle.”

Her mouth opened and closed twice without any sound coming out. Finally she said, “You’ve known about this windfall for six minutes?”

“Approximately.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

He shrugged, then grinned. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t marrying me for my money.”

For several seconds she said nothing, then she gave a quick laugh. “I must say, this is unsurpassedly good news.”

“There’s no such word as unsurpassedly.”

“There is now.” And then she started talking so fast he could barely understand her. He risked a glance at the vicar, who looked as if he were about to suffer from apoplexy.

“Victoria,” Nathan whispered. When she continued to chatter, he shut her up the only way he knew how. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her.

“Good heavens,” the vicar said in an outraged voice. “Not yet! I haven’t yet pronounced you man and wife!”

Breaking off the kiss, Nathan turned to the scarlet-faced man. “If I hadn’t kissed her, believe me, you never would have had the chance to do so.”

He returned his attention to Victoria, who looked flushed and well-kissed.

“Heavens,” she said, “you kissing me to shut me up—that is just how we started.”

“It is indeed.”

“And now I suppose it marks that this is the end of our courtship.”

Nathan brought her gloved hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss against her fingers. “No, my love, this is, in every way, just the beginning.”

The end.

I would like to thank the following people for their invaluable help and support:

The wonderful people at Avon/HarperCollins for their kindness, cheerleading, and for helping make my dreams come true, especially Michael Morrison, Mike Spradlin, Brian Grogan, Carrie Feron, Debbie Stier, Pamela-Spengler Jaffee, and Jamie Beckman.

My agent, Damaris Rowland, for her faith and wisdom.

Jenni Grizzle and Wendy Etherington for keeping me going and always being up for champagne and cheesecake.

Thanks also to Sue Grimshaw, Kathy Baker, Kay and Jim Johnson, Kathy and Dick Guse, Lea and Art D’Alessandro, and Michelle, Steve, and Lindsey Grossman.

A cyber hug to my Looney Loopies Connie Brockway, Marsha Canham, Virginia Henley, Jill Gregory, Sandy Hingston, Julia London, Kathleen Givens, Sherri Browning, and Julie Ortolon, and also to the Temptresses.

A very special thank you to the members of Georgia Romance Writers.

And finally, thank you to all the wonderful readers who have taken the time to write or e-mail me. I love hearing from you!