Seven Wicked Nights (65 page)

“Marry me again, Catherine Meredith Carthwick Raybourne. I want to renew my vows to you. I made promises to you that I broke. I promised to love and cherish you, and I fear I did not do very well.”

Cat blinked through the tears in her eyes. She hugged her arms around her chest as if she could contain the joy bursting through her. Everything within was singing, soaring, spinning with hope. “Well, I promised to obey you. And I admit I didn’t
really
mean it.”

He laughed, his teeth a flash of white against his soot-covered skin. “So you will marry me, again? You will be the wife of my heart?”

“Yes, Jamie.” Yes, yes. Of course yes! “Always.”

She twisted her hands together as he came to standing, resisting the urge to throw her arms around him. He had more to say and she wanted to hear what it was.

“I found the sapphire in Kashmir. Let me see how I did.” He took the ring from the box and held it next to her eyes. “Yes. I remembered your eyes exactly.”

Cat held out her hand, and he slid the ring onto her finger. The band was designed with elaborate scrolls and perfectly matched her previous engagement ring. “Where did you have it made?”

“The Jewelry Quarter in Birmingham.”

“It’s perfect, Jamie.”

“No, it’s not.” He brushed her hair back from her face. “But it doesn’t need to be perfect. It just needs to be true.”

Epilogue

L
EAVES RUSTLED OVERHEAD
as Jamie took her hand beneath the old oak tree. They stood before the heart he had carved into its trunk nine years prior.

“I promise to love you, Catherine, for all my days. To write you notes whenever I must leave, to tell you about my worries as much as my celebrations.” No humor showed on his face, no amusement. Only deep intention. Integrity. And love. “And to trust you, even if I do not understand or agree with your actions. I pledge my heart to you until death shall us part.”

Cat squeezed his hands. They were shaking in hers. “I pledge to love and honor you, Jamie, as my husband, my lover, and my friend. I promise to hold you foremost in my heart, even when we do not agree. I will share my life with you, my laughter and my tears, and cherish you always. I pledge my heart to you until death shall us part.”

He lifted her hand and slid the sapphire ring onto her finger. “With this ring, I thee wed. Again.”

Cat looked up and smiled into his eyes. Her husband tilted his lips into that lopsided half smile that never failed to melt her heart.

“Now kiss your bride,” she teased.

Never did he have to be asked twice. He leaned down and claimed her mouth in a searing kiss.

Wind sang through the trees. The crisp scent of autumn lingered in the sunlight. Winter was coming and the world was alive with joy.

Cat slipped her hands down around Jamie’s hips.

“Hmm,” he murmured against her mouth. “I like this.”

“We’ve work to do, husband.”

“Work?” He pulled back and studied her face.

“Yes,” she tilted her head to the side. “Didn’t you say something about needing an heir?”

“So I did.” She laughed as he picked her up and laid her down in the grass.

The future looked very bright indeed.

About Leigh

Leigh LaValle, a RWA Golden Heart® finalist and Amazon Bestselling author, pilfered her first Historical Romance novel off her mother’s bookshelf and quickly developed a lifelong love affair of rogues, rakes and rascals. When she is not writing, mommying, or reading, she is rarely seen cleaning, and more often found hiking or, when she is really lucky, in the white powder of the ski slopes. Leigh is also a devoted yoga practitioner and instructor. She currently lives in the Pacific Northwest with her family, and is hard at work on her next novel.

Follow Leigh LaValle on twitter at
@Leigh_LaValle
, friend her on Facebook at
http://www.facebook.com/leigh.lavalle
, or visit her website at
http://www.LeighLaValle.com
.

Other Books by Leigh

The Nottinghamshire Series

The Runaway Countess

The Misbehaving Marquess

The Rogue Returns
 

The Runaway Countess

During a hot and thunderous Nottingham summer, a lady thief steals from the rich to give to the poor. Captured by a handsome lord, she resists his interrogations but not his tempestuous kisses. Right and wrong turn inside out as she finds herself falling in love with her mortal enemy.

The Rogue Returns

With siblings to protect and creditors at her door, an intrepid lady has no recourse but to seek a fabled fortune buried years ago. Forming an uneasy alliance with a silver-tongued rogue, she adventures through the high peaks of England, battling treasure hunters, violent storms, and dangerous terrain. But can she escape the growing passion that threatens to steal her heart?

To Catherine Gayle, for putting up with me and my endless questions.

And for Kirk, even though you’re entirely too nice to ever be a decent rake.

Prologue

“N
ICOLAS, SAY HELLO
to your new cousin.”

Eleanor Abbington glanced up sharply at her new aunt’s statement. How had she been singled out? With the entire family gathered in the courtyard of Malcolm Manor to meet Uncle Robert’s new wife and her son, it didn’t seem fair that Eleanor should find herself the center of attention.

Aunt Lavinia smiled as she glanced back and forth between them, her golden eyebrows raised in two perfect arches of expectation. “Eleanor is closest to you in age, only two years your senior.”

Only
two years? That was more than a quarter of the boy’s lifetime. For some reason it annoyed her that a seven-year-old was nearly as tall as she. He looked rather like a giraffe, actually, with his long and spindly limbs. Sighing, Eleanor waited for him to say something, to get these forced niceties out of the way. But he didn’t. Instead, he just stood there, staring down at his shiny brown shoes and letting the silence stretch.

Tittering like a squeaky field mouse, Aunt Lavinia turned to Eleanor. “I think he’s shy with all these new people. Be a good girl and give your new cousin a kiss.”

A
kiss
? Eleanor tried not to make a face, but it wasn’t easy. She couldn’t possibly expect her to kiss this strange boy. Just because Aunt Lavinia had
called
him her cousin, didn’t make it so. She had overheard Mama talking to Aunt Margaret; she knew that Aunt Lavinia was just a silver-tongue widow—though her tongue looked quite pink to Eleanor—who had somehow managed to fool Uncle Robert, the revered Earl of Malcolm, into marrying her.

Eleanor sent a pleading look to her mother. Mama cut a glance to her new sister-in-law, her mouth pinched and her brow lowered in the same sort of disapproving expression she gave the dog when it slipped inside with muddy paws, but she didn’t intervene on Eleanor’s behalf.

At her side, Libby watched with rounded eyes, leaning into their mother’s skirts. For once, Eleanor was envious of her little sister. No one expected a toddler to have to do such a thing. Or even a five-year-old, for that matter, though William, her
real
cousin, didn’t seem as though he’d mind such a fate, peering up in adoration at his new stepbrother as he was.

“Eleanor,” her mother said in warning.

Fine
.

Sighing hugely, Eleanor stepped forward, reluctance weighing her feet like stones. Still Nicolas didn’t look up. He simply stood there, letting his shaggy hair hang down across his forehead. Great—not only did she get a cousin she didn’t want, but he was rude to boot. Didn’t he know you should face someone when being forced to meet?

Pursing her mouth into a kiss that put her lips as far from her body as she could manage, she leaned forward, aiming for his freckled cheek. He smelled like wind and sunshine, which was better than the dirt and sweat smell she expected of a boy. Just when she was about to graze his cheek, he turned, quick as a whip, and smacked his lips to hers.

She sputtered and jumped back, wiping her whole arm across her violated lips. “Ew! Mama, he
kissed
me!”

For the first time since he arrived, Nicolas looked her right in the eye. He was grinning like the fool he was, his pale green gaze dancing with smug merriment. “
I
was just standing here.
You
were the one who kissed
me
.”

“Not on the
lips
,” Eleanor said, spitting the words out along with the taste of him. “That’s disgusting.”

“Eleanor!” Mama barked, grabbing her by the arm and tugging her back sharply. “Mind your manners, young lady.”

Mind
her
manners? She was the one who had been accosted by the little ruffian! But with Mama’s fingers already digging into her upper arm, Eleanor knew better than to say what she was thinking. “Yes, ma’am,” she mumbled, all the while leveling furious, narrowed eyes on Nicolas.

Did he appear even the tiniest bit contrite? Not even a little. As the adults went on with their greetings, she wrinkled her nose, telling him as clearly as she could manage that she did
not
like him, cousin or not.

His grin only widened, and then he winked at her. Winked!

Eleanor’s mouth dropped open, which only made him look that much more pleased with himself. Of all the… she snapped her head to the side, refusing to give him the attention he so clearly craved. Even with her gaze averted, she just
knew
he was still watching her, his infuriatingly smug grin still in place. So he thought he had bested her, did he?

Well, they’d see about that.

Chapter One

Fifteen years later

O
H
L
ORD, SHE WAS TRAPPED
.

Standing in the center of the sun-dappled folly overlooking the rolling hills of her uncle’s estate, Eleanor suddenly realized exactly what was about to happen.
Don’t say it. Please don’t say it.