Dare to Love (38 page)

He kissed her cheek, inhaling her magical, soothing scent. She was his lifeline. His love. Home. The thought helped steel his soul for the upcoming unpleasantness.

He stepped back, laced her fingers in his, and gazed into her eyes, unsure what to say.

“What’s wrong?” Her cheeks went pale. “Has something happened?”

Not knowing how to start, he reached into his pocket and withdrew the note.

Her eyebrows pinched, eyes full of worry. Raising her hand to her throat, she sucked in a breath and reached for the paper.

It didn’t take her long to read—it was appalling how brief it was.

She stiffened. Her mouth dropped open. And her eyes lifted to his, wide with fear. “I’m not certain what to say. What will you…?” And she trailed off, unable to voice her thoughts.

Oh God, she had assumed the worst. That he would withdraw his offer. Of all the ludicrous… As though he could live without her.

He opened his mouth and—

“Good day, Lord Landis. We didn’t expect you today.” The earl and his wife emerged from the study.

Damn, he’d gone about this all wrong. He should have addressed this with Nivea in private. Then, once he’d made his intentions known, they could have presented a united front to her parents.

There was nothing to be done about it now. He’d just have to press forward. He bowed at the couple. “Good morning, sir. Madam. I fear I just received a missive from my mother, and was just sharing it with Nivea. My father has passed on.”

“Oh, Dare, I’m so sorry.” Amelia crossed to him and pressed a comforting hand to his arm. “I know it wasn’t unexpected, but that doesn’t make it any less painful.”

Painful
? No, that was not one of the words that had come to mind. But he responded in the spirit it was offered. “Thank you, milady. I appreciate your concern.”

“What will you do now?” At her question, all eyes turned to him. It was obvious she asked the question at the forefront of everyone’s mind. Would he beg off?

Time to make this unequivocally clear. “No, madam, I haven’t finalized any plans yet. But I imagine I will travel to Raynsforth sometime this week to see the bastard buried and return well in time for our wedding.”

Nivea squeaked in surprise. “So, you still wish to marry me?”

With a hoot of delight, he pulled her into his arms. “Of course I do. By this time next week, you will be the Marchioness of Raynsforth. Does that please you?”

Before she could respond, the earl exclaimed, “Surely you are not thinking of marrying so soon. We must postpone the ceremony.”

Dare turned, but did not release his betrothed, maintaining a possessive hand on her waist. “No. Surely, we must not.”

“See here, Landis. I know you did not get along with your father, but you cannot expect to eschew the mourning period all together.”

“Frankly, having me marry was his greatest wish,” Dare stated. Quite pleased with himself, he nuzzled into Nivea’s neck. “He cast a pallor over my life for far too long, and I think it very fitting to embrace my new wife along with my new title.”

When he continued to protest, Dare plucked the note from Nivea’s hand and passed it to the earl. As he read it, his expression hardened. Without a word, he handed it to his wife.

“Oh, how cold!” cried Amelia. “Was there no love at all in your family?”

No. None at all. But the words were too hard to say, so he just shook his head.

“But why?” He was touched by her plaintive question, her eyes full of concern.

He shrugged, having no response.

“Well,
I
have no intention of delaying this marriage,” Nivea declared. “The
ton
may be shocked by it, but the sooner we invite Dare into our family, the better.”

“Yes, we must.” Amelia encircled her husband’s arm and with a pretty pout, said, “Darling, it’s for the best. Please say you agree.”

The earl was no match for his wife. Chucking her under her chin, he sighed. “If that is what you wish, then we will just brace ourselves for the scandal and carry on.”

Nivea rushed over and gave them both a swift hug. “Thank you, Popa!”

Despite his nonchalant attitude at the Horsham’s, Dare spent the next few hours puzzling over his upbringing. He had come to expect his father’s cold behavior, but what had caused his mother to become so uncaring?

He’d never asked her for anything. He’d never harmed her in any way. And yet, once the marquess reappeared, her manner toward him alternated between apathy and irritation.

And now she demanded that he return home. For what purpose?

A visit from Petrick, his father’s solicitor, cleared up some of the mystery. Dare had only met the man a few times, and was well aware he shared his father’s disdain of him.

Sitting in a chair across from Dare’s desk, Petrick removed a sheath of papers from his bag. With a pinched expression, he began, “It is my duty to inform you of your father’s estate. As expected, you have inherited the title of Marquess of Raynsforth, with all its duties and responsibilities. I’m sure you are aware that the marquess had every intention of stripping you of all financial bequests. He did not feel you brought honor to the title, and he did not wish you to benefit in any way from his hard-fought financial gains.

Dare forced down a growl. The man had been a vicious slave owner. Whatever Dare had done could not begin to approach the degradation his father had embraced.

The solicitor, untroubled by the obvious hypocrisy, continued, “Once you declined to marry the Billingston girl, he was determined to divide the money between your sisters and leave all unentailed estates to your mother.”

That was interesting. “But this did not occur?”

“Correct. The marquess was not able to complete the necessary documentation prior to his untimely demise.”

“Are you saying that he did not actually change his will?”

“No. He did not.”

“So, despite the marquess’s best efforts, I am now the sole heir to my father’s fortune?”

Petrick nodded.

“And my mother and sisters, do they know of this? Did they know they would be the beneficiaries if I did not marry?”

“Yes, I am fairly certain he informed them of his plans.” His tone was grim.

“But since he didn’t change the will, they get nothing?”

Petrick narrowed his eyes. He was not at all pleased with the outcome. “Correct.”

“This will not sit well with them.”

“No, milord,” he replied, sounding miffed, “it will not sit at all well with them.”

Tapping his fingers on his lips, Dare sat there absorbing that information. He supposed, living in that house all those years, it was inevitable the money would be at the root of all their misery. As it stood now, his mother was penniless. She was more trapped by circumstances than he ever was.

She simply wanted what she was owed, and if it came at the expense of her son, so be it. By convincing him to come back home, without a wife, she would be able to maintain her current lifestyle. Otherwise, she was destitute. As difficult as she had been, he couldn’t allow that to happen. He would put this ugly chapter of his life behind him.

“I will take care of my family.” Then he paused. “But only if they agree not to interfere with me in any way.”

The man showed a flicker of emotion before resuming his haughty demeanor. “That will be entirely up to you, milord.”

What a thrill to hear those words. His future was now in
his
hands. There were to be no more insults or reprisals. Without the shadowy specter of his father threatening him, he could now marry Nivea and together they could create a new life.

Dare stood up, eager to get started. “Thank you, Petrick. You have been very accommodating. I will come to your office in the morning and we can determine what sort of compensation my mother and sisters are due.”

“Very good, milord.” With a tight smile, the man took his leave.

Dare took a deep breath and exhaled with a loud sigh of relief. It was over. His secret was safe. He was a free man.

Returning to his desk, Dare pulled out a box tucked in the far recesses of his drawer. He had one more task to complete, and then he would be ready for his wedding day. Smiling, he set to work.

The night before their wedding, Dare knocked on the Horsham’s door and requested to meet with his betrothed. Hearing of his arrival, Nivea skipped down the stairs, and in no time, they were sequestered in the parlor, snuggled on the sofa.

“I have something for you,” he said, his voice rumbling in his chest as she lay against it.

She chuckled. “I’m sure you do, Lord Landis, but I told you it would have to wait until we’re married.”

“Vixen, that’s not what I meant.” He gave her a squeeze, and then sat up to pull a small package from his jacket. “I—I wanted to give you a wedding present.”

“Oh Dare, you are so sweet. You didn’t have to. I didn’t get you anything.”

“Please, don’t get too excited. ’Tis but a trifle. But first I want to tell you the meaning behind it.”

How mysterious. He put his arm around her shoulders and she snuggled in close, eager to hear his tale.

“Remember the last day we were with my family and my father lost consciousness?”

“Certainly. It was a horrible moment.”

“Yes, it was. I’m sure you will not be surprised to hear that I was afraid our heated conversation had led to his collapse.”

She hummed. “I confess, I was a little worried about it myself.”

“Yes, well, it came as quite a relief to hear from the doctor that it was simply a symptom of the disease.”

“Thank goodness.”

He gave her a squeeze. “Yes. As much as I despised the man, I did not wish to cause him harm. In fact, the doctor seemed to feel that after years of angst and anger, the contrary old troll probably enjoyed the fight.”

Nivea grumbled in agreement.

Dare sat her upright and twisted in his seat so he was facing her. “I decided I couldn’t leave without seeing him one last time. He was lying on his bed, only semi-conscious, and I wasn’t certain what I hoped to accomplish or what I was going to say. Then, I sunk my hands into my pockets and discovered the flower you had given me. Remember?”

“Of course.” She smiled. “The forget-me-not.”

He kissed her cheek. “Yes. When I touched it, it was as though you were in the room with me. I knew you would want me to forgive him. So I started to talk to him. I told him I would bring honor to the title and not disgrace the family. I would not squander my inheritance. I also told him I would marry, and you would bear me as many sons as God would allow. I did not want him to worry—the Raynsforth name would live on. I don’t know if he heard me, but I made my peace with him, and I felt relief.”

Nivea’s couldn’t have been more proud. She loved him more with every passing moment.

“I’m so glad.” She stroked his cheek, and he kissed her hand.

“I am, too. Your little flower gave me the strength and courage to clear the air before it was too late. I just wanted to thank you.”

He pressed the box into her hand. She slowly untied the blue bow, lifted the lid, and paused. Nestled inside was a delicate, white handkerchief. Embroidered in the center were what appeared to be blue flowers. Curious and confused, she lifted it from the wrapping. Along the bottom, in uneven but legible stitching were the words:
Forget me not, my dearest. September 30
.

Their wedding date.

She looked up at him in wonder. “Did you make this? For me?”

He nodded, so nervous and uncertain he was unable to meet her eyes. “I told you once I had learned to embroider as a child. It seems I am a little rusty.”

Eyes full of tears, she threw her arms around him and crushed him into the sofa. “Dare Landis, this is the sweetest, most romantic, most precious gift I have ever received. I love you so much!”

He wrapped his arms around her and held her as she laughed and cried and covered him in kisses. After a few moments, he cupped her face in his hands and with a wry grin asked, “So, can I assume you like it?”

She swiped away her tears. “Yes, my dearest man. I will cherish it forever.”

He leaned in to kiss her. Once, with a soft press of his lips. Twice, with the tip of his tongue. The third time set her pulse pounding. And she pulled away.

“One more day, my love. After tomorrow you can spend all day kissing me, but tonight, you need to go home.”

He growled, but obediently followed her to the door. Tomorrow was far too long.

Their wedding was the event of the season.

Nivea was not surprised. After all, confirmed rake, Adair Landis, was getting married. And not only was he marrying an over-the-hill spinster, but it was to take place only days after the loss of his father. It was scandalous. No one in the
ton
would miss it.

Nivea didn’t care. She could not have been happier. After all those years of waiting and dreaming, she was going to marry Dare.

The day dawned warm and clear. The church was overflowing with people. And Dare was at the altar waiting for her.

She practically skipped down the aisle, she was so eager to see him. There he stood, handsome as always, dressed in an elegant suit of deep indigo. The perfect foil for her frothy gown of blue. The color of forget-me-nots. She halted by his side, and the look he gave her was so hot and so sweet her knees almost buckled.

He loved her. Was it truly possible?

It wasn’t until they’d said their vows and kissed before God and man, that she could finally believe it.

Giving her no time to absorb the moment, Dare dragged her up the aisle, dashed through the throng and headed straight for the carriage.

“Dare! We should stay a moment to accept congratulations.” She laughed at his impatience.

“We can see them at the wedding feast,” he growled. “Now get in.”

He handed her inside the carriage and disappeared for a moment. She heard him say something to the coachman before climbing in next to her. Before she could protest, he pulled her into his arms and gave her a kiss. Unfortunately, she was smiling so wide, all he encountered were teeth.

“Happy?” he asked with a laugh.