Authors: Elizabeth Anthony
Tags: #Fiction, #Erotica, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Fiction / Erotica, #Fiction / Historical, #Fiction / Romance / Historical / General, #Fiction / Romance - Erotica
He looked away for a moment and I realised that, like me, he was gazing at the Hall, with its windows and pediments glittering in the sun. ‘I would give it all up tomorrow,’ he said. ‘When I heard, in America last year, that the dukedom was mine, do you know how I felt, Sophie? I felt as if a huge, a relentless burden had been laid on me. I had no desire to take its weight on my shoulders.’
‘But you were
made
for responsibility and duty,’ I breathed. Almost without realising it, I’d wrapped my arms round him and laid my cheek against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body through his shirt, feeling his heart steadily beating. ‘The dukedom is yours, Ash; it’s your obligation, and I know you will fulfil the role with great generosity and great honour.’
He put his hands on my shoulders, and moved me away from him so I could look up into his face. ‘I cannot do it,’ he said, ‘unless I have you beside me, Sophie. As my wife.’
The sun was shining still, the familiar harmonies of the small village choir still drifted out to us, but an almost chilly breeze was stirring the old yew trees, rustling their boughs and casting shadows, this time over both of us. I remembered when I’d first seen him
on the street in Oxford, when I’d run to him instinctively.
Sir. Please will you help us, sir?
I’d known then that he was good and strong and true. I’d always known it. But… ‘I can’t,’ I whispered.
‘Why?’ He’d gone very still. ‘Don’t you love me?’
‘Oh, more than anything.’ My voice was passionate now. ‘Don’t you realise that’s why this is simply impossible? You need money – I would bring you nothing. And it’s worse than that. You need powerful friends around you, and on your side. My low birth and past would destroy you, Ash.’
‘Not if I married you,’ he said. This time he’d drawn me into his arms, and he was soothing me and stroking my hair. ‘If I married you, people would simply have to accept you. The world is changing, Sophie. The old ways are passing.’
‘The Duchess…’
He smiled, for the first time. ‘Can you see her face? She’d be the Dowager once we were married, and you would take precedence over her – she would probably never set foot in Belfield Hall again. And do you think I would object to
that?
’ He was cradling me tenderly now, holding me against him, pressing his lips to my forehead.
‘The staff,’ I said desperately. ‘If I were the duchess they would never accept me.’
‘Of course they would. You are gracious and beautiful and generous. You would treat them fairly, and they would love you for it. We’re going to make everything better for them, Sophie – all this has to come sooner or later anyway. Will you marry me? Will you?’
I gazed up at him, at the sheer desire in his blue eyes, and for a moment I let myself dream the impossible. Then I said, and my voice as well as my heart was breaking, ‘I’m going to New York, Ash. I’m going to sing with Benedict’s band. It’s best, for both of us.’
He dragged me to him and kissed my forehead. ‘Sophie.
Sophie
.’ He tilted my face up with his hand, almost savagely. ‘God help me, Sophie, but I meant what I said – I’ll renounce the dukedom if you don’t say yes. I fell in love with you the night I arrived at Belfield Hall. When I saw you there, in that vast and empty dining room, everything fell into place – the letters you’d written, your faith in me. And you were so beautiful, so incredibly beautiful… Oh, Sophie.’ He looked suddenly into the distance, at Belfield Hall, then turned back to me. ‘I’ll follow you to America,’ he said, ‘and make myself a fresh fortune out there and come courting you again. I’ll keep asking you; you’ll not know a moment’s peace, until—’
I put my finger to his lips. ‘They need you
here
, darling Ash. Here.’
He was silent. We held each other tightly. Then I pulled away. ‘I must go now,’ I said, suddenly afraid my self-control was going to shatter at last.
His arms fell to his sides. The sadness in his eyes haunted me; would always haunt me. He said, quietly, ‘Very well. I’ll drive you back to Oxford.’
‘No. No, I have a taxicab waiting, in the village.’
‘When do you sail?’
‘In a week,’ I whispered. ‘From Southampton.’
‘I’ll look for news of you,’ he said. ‘Taking America by storm. And someday, perhaps…’
I put my finger to his lips again. I tried to smile so he wouldn’t see how my heart was breaking in two, how the happy song of the blackbird in a nearby tree was tearing me apart. ‘Some day, perhaps,’ I said. I could see that the big doors of the church were swinging open now, and the members of the choir, their practice finished, were coming out into the sunshine, chattering and smiling. Soon they would see us here.
I started towards the gate. ‘Goodbye, Ash.’
He didn’t try to follow me. I walked away, to my new life, and he was letting me go.
All I ever wanted was you.
Oh, my love. My only love.
Elizabeth Anthony discovered historical novels early in her teens. After graduating from Nottingham University she worked as a tutor in English Studies, but always dreamed of writing. Her ambition was fulfilled with the publication of an eighteenth-century thriller, received with great acclaim in the UK and US and translated into nine languages. She has also written erotica and several Regency romances. Elizabeth lives with her husband in the Derbyshire Peak District.
All I Want Is You
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The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Copyright © 2013 by Elizabeth Anthony
Reading guide copyright © 2013 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.
Cover design by Lauren Panepinto
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ISBN 978-0-316-25482-3