Read A Notorious Countess Confesses (PG7) Online
Authors: Julie Anne Long
Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Romance
“Kiss her!” Mrs. Sneath bellowed.
He didn’t need the encouragement, but he appreciated the enthusiasm.
He kissed her. And all around them jaws dropped, hearts soared and broke, friendships mended, but above all, love ruled.
“Love thy neighbor, indeed, Reverend!” Mr. Eldred approved. “That’s showing us how it’s done!”
Epilogue
THEY IMPORTED A vicar from a nearby town to marry them as soon as the banns were cried.
Literally cried, in the case of a number of female parishioners, who softly wet their handkerchiefs for the three consecutive Sundays but would never dream of staying away from church as long as Reverend Sylvaine gave the sermon. Besides, his story was so desperately romantic, they found it inspirational.
Fortunately, novelty is a wonderful opiate, and Adam had also thoughtfully imported Seamus Duggan, and one look at him dried the tears and set the lashes to batting. But Adam made sure Seamus was so busy working the land at both Damask Manor and the vicarage that Seamus fell into bed at night much too spent to break any of the hearts he collected.
For now.
Mrs. Sneath believes Seamus Duggan would make a wonderful project, and this keeps Seamus rather looking over his shoulder, too.
Cora and Mary O’Flaherty struck up a fast friendship, and Damask Manor is now often overrun by a dozen or so redheaded children, all wearing wooden swords and admiral hats. Henny is their devoted slave, and is worshipped in turn, as she often obliges them by playing the role of Sea Monster. She happily divides her time between the vicarage and Damask Manor, though Mrs. Dalrymple, whose nerves had never been tensile strength, always arranged to be out when Henny was in.
By the end of the year, with a little help from the town, the O’Flahertys had a new roof, a new fence, a new barn, three cows, a fat mule, well-plowed land, a few sheep, and puppies. Because Molly the dog really was a bit of a slut.
John O’Flaherty was never seen in Pennyroyal Green again.
Jacob Eversea congratulated Adam on “making it right” in an inimitable Eversea way. As did Colin and Ian. Colin insisted he’d warned him about Evie by way of encouragement since the only way a member of their family ever did what they were supposed to do was by being told not to do it.
Adam read the banns for Josephine Charing and Simon Covington the week after he read his own.
As it so happened, Mr. Bartholomew Tolliver was discovered to be genuinely passionate about botany, and he and Miss Amy Pitney struck up a lively correspondence. Mr. Bartholomew harbors secret romantic hopes about Amy. Amy harbors secret romantic hopes, too.
For Seamus Duggan.
The town watches and waits.
A WEEK AFTER their wedding, Adam and Evie stopped by the churchyard to lay Sussex wildflowers on Lady Fennimore’s grave.
Eve leaned back against the great wall of his chest, secure in the loop of his arms, and tucked her head beneath his chin, where she fit perfectly. They admired Lady Fennimore’s headstone. Her epitaph read:
DON’T THINK IT WON’T HAPPEN TO YOU
“I used to think my epitaph would read ‘Here lies Evie Duggan. No one ever got the better of her.’ ”
“And what do you think it should read now?”
“Here lies Evie Sylvaine. Better because of Adam Sylvaine.”
He pulled her tightly against his body and she pressed against him, arced her throat so he could kiss it. Evie felt that familiar languor of want begin to take hold of them both. The sort that usually required them to rush back to the house at odd hours of the day.
“Lady Fennimore wouldn’t mind if we did it here,” Adam murmured in her ear.
“But we’ve a living audience, of sorts.”
He followed her gaze out toward the road, where in the lowering light two people were walking together.
“It’s my cousin Olivia. And … by God, if that isn’t Lord Landsdowne she’s walking with.”
They beheld the miracle in silence.
“Landsdowne might just win that wager yet,” Adam said on a hush.
MY DEEPEST GRATITUDE to my ever-delightful, supportive editor, May Chen; to my endlessly clever agent, Steve Axelrod; to my darling sister, for cheerfully submitting to having ideas bounced from her; to the hard-working, talented staff at Avon Books; and to all the lovely friends and readers who let me know what my books mean to them.
He knew that once he touched, he could not untouch her, would not be able to stop.
Almost as though she had no choice, she slowly lifted his knuckles to her mouth, pressed her lips to them.
His blood surged to where her lips met his skin. He took his hand from her. He slid it up through her hair.
“Evie,” he said hoarsely. “Evie.”
There was no preamble, no finesse. Just a slow, incinerating, unleashed hunger when he kissed her.
PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS OF
JULIE ANNE LONG
“Warm, witty, and fabulous!”
SUZANNE ENOCH
“A fresh voice that stands out in a chorus of Regency historicals, Julie Anne Long entrances with deftly woven humor, strong and believable characters, and a genuinely rich and emotional resolution. Delicious and delightful!”
KAREN HAWKINS
“Julie Anne Long’s star continues to rise with each new emotionally powerful, wonderfully rich novel… . She creates memorable love stories.”
ROMANTIC TIME BOOK REVIEWS
By Julie Anne Long
A NOTORIOUS COUNTESS CONFESSES
HOW THE MARQUESS WAS WON
WHAT I DID FOR A DUKE
I KISSED AN EARL
SINCE THE SURRENDER
LIKE NO OTHER LOVER
THE PERILS OF PLEASURE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
AVON BOOKS
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Copyright © 2012 by Julie Anne Long
ISBN 978-0-06-211802-8
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information address Avon Books, an Imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
First Avon Books mass market printing: November 2012
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