Lady of Pleasure (44 page)

Authors: Delilah Marvelle

Tags: #Historical Romance

BOOK: Lady of Pleasure

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He nodded. “Yes. I know.” He started walking them forward again.

As they made their way toward the entrance, the double doors opened wide and a group of servants breezed out, arranging themselves with a bow out into the portico, awaiting their trunks.

Within moments, a tall woman dressed in a simple French morning gown of white and verdant bustled out toward them, her blond, graying chignon swaying against her brisk movements. “Ronan!” she cried. “Everyone has been absolutely restless knowing you are married! The governess can hardly contain them.”

Ronan glanced down at Caroline and slowly grinned, his dark eyes brightening. “It doesn’t exist anymore. Bless her and bless you.” Squeezing her arms one last time, he released her and darted toward his aunt.

Skidding to a halt, he embraced his aunt, lifting her up and up off her slippered feet before lowering her back down. “I’m a bachelor no more. Can you believe it? Aunt Beatrice, meet the ever glorious Caroline.” Ronan waved Caroline over.

Caroline excitedly held her bonnet and hurried over to them.

Aunt Beatrice spread her arms out toward Caroline and smiled, her smooth porcelain-looking cheeks rounding. “Any woman capable of winning my Ronan’s heart deserves endless fawning and recognition. Welcome, dear. And
bonjour
.”

Caroline pressed the woman’s lily-scented softness to herself. “
Bonjour
! ’Tis a pleasure to finally meet you after hearing so much about you.”

Aunt Beatrice pulled away and searched Caroline’s face with bright blue eyes. She flicked Caroline’s hair with an exploratory finger. “I do believe you have outdone yourself, Ronan. She is absolutely exquisite.”

Ronan quirked a brow at Caroline. “Isn’t she, though? I’ll have to carry a pistol with me whilst in Paris to keep all the amorous French bastards away.”

Caroline let out a nervous laugh. “Let us not overdo the compliments.”

Aunt Beatrice grabbed Caroline’s arm and then Ronan’s with the other, re-directing them and ushering them toward the house. “Not to be rude, but the children have been preparing a play for you. And they won’t give us peace until we see it. So sadly, there won’t be much talking or visiting until
after
they have presented it.”

Caroline glanced over at Ronan, feeling as though she was about to burst. She was here. She was actually here. In Paris. With Ronan. And she was about to meet every single last one of her nieces and nephews.

Aunt Beatrice escorted them into a large open marble and gold painted hallway that opened to two enormous side rooms with soaring ceilings. The scent of freshly baked bread hung in the air as candles softly illuminated honey colored silk-brocaded walls that decorated the expanse of the dim hallway.

Releasing their arms, Aunt Beatrice gestured toward the receiving room on their right and waved them toward it. “Be seated. I will go upstairs and let them know you are both here.” Gathering her skirts, she hastened up the stairs.

Ronan stepped toward Caroline and yanked her back firmly toward him, wrapping both arms around her. His hold tightened. “My aunt never sits still and is worse than the children.”

Caroline tugged on the lapels of his morning coat. “I revel knowing it. It means we will never be bored. And wait until all of my sisters get here in a few months. Paris will be burning.”

He chuckled. “Come along. We had best be seated before they all come down and we never make it to our chairs.” He grabbed her hand and strode them both into a simply furnished room with an array of upholstered chairs and French clocks. The walls were adorned with a soft, pale green paper and bore an oversized gilded mirror and a few sconces that expanded the small room and allowed the light from the outside windows to brighten it all the more.

Three chairs had been strategically set out before an empty space.

“Apparently, the stage and our seats,” Caroline announced.

“Yes. They always perform their plays in here.” Ronan rounded them toward the chairs and in unison, they seated themselves. Ronan shifted in his seat, adjusting his coat around his frame.

Silence hummed.

“Prepare yourself for noise,” Ronan drawled. “Lots of it.”

She bit back a grin. “I grew up with four sisters and a brother. I think I’m ready for noise.”

The thudding of feet resounded in the corridor like the beating of a hundred drums followed by staggered shouts being belted in French.

Caroline turned in her seat toward the doorway as a troop of boys and girls appeared and marched into the room in a single line, sending short trousers and above ankle skirts and little polished boots and slippers shuffling and swaying within the large receiving room.

Caroline’s lips parted, for they were indeed all mulattos. Every single last one of them. With curling black hair tied in bows for the girls and short curling black hair well-brushed with tonic for the boys. Some of them had dark eyes and some of them had bright blue eyes, and their skin tones ranged from very light to very dark.

They peered over at her hesitantly, arranging themselves at different heights and shoving themselves shoulder to shoulder, eventually grew quiet. Their eager faces all stared at her as if waiting for acceptance. An acceptance few in society probably offered them.

Tears pricked Caroline’s eyes fully understanding why these children meant so much to Ronan. They were more than nephews and nieces. They were children society scorned due to their skin color. She grabbed Ronan’s hand and choked out, “They’re beautiful.”

Ronan grabbed her hand in turn and shook it, rasping, “I knew you would think so.”

“Oh, Ronan.” Caroline released his hand and scrambling to her feet knew she had to hug each and every one of them. “
Bonjour, mes chéris
.”

Glancing toward each other in astonishment for being openly acknowledged, they rushed at her and arms were thrown around her waist and her thighs and every surface of her body until they were all swimming against each other’s movements.

In French, one of the oldest boys hollered out, “I knew you would love us! I knew it, I knew it. Because I know everything there is to know about everything!”

Caroline laughed and stumbled against them, grabbing each head she could reach, kissed them one by one by one. They smelled like apple orchards and starched linen. Laughing, she glanced toward Ronan and called out, “Something tells me they like me.”

Ronan slowly rose from his seat to his full height, his eyes searching hers and silently mouthed, “I love you.”

Swiping away tears, she mouthed back, “I know.”

Turning her attention back to her nieces and nephews, she dragged some of them into a swaying dance knowing this was merely the beginning of a beautiful, beautiful life.

Want to know when the next book hits your Kindle?

Book 4 in the School of Gallantry Series

Coming this Fall of 2013!

Getting married to a complete stranger is daunting...but not as daunting as trying to seduce a person whose passions you do not understand...

Derek Charles Holbrook, Viscount Banfield, knew his fate since he was nine when his parents had joyously announced that a girl had been born unto the prestigious Grey family in America. The Greys, though lacking in title and English blood, had rescued their family from financial ruin in return for a small favor: that the first girl born unto the Greys be given the honor of a title through marriage. Derek being that marriage.

Throughout the years, Derek rebelled against his parents and even tried taking off to Russia to avoid the impending match, only to get dragged back every time. He is even assigned a footman whose duty it is to ensure he stays in London. When Derek finally meets Miss Clementine Grey barely four days before their wedding, he is stunned to discover his about-to-be bride makes the head of every man in London turn right along with his own. He also wincingly discovers she isn't any happier about the arrangement than he is. In fact, she hates him for ruining her life. When they marry, barely knowing more than what they wrote to each other in letters exchanged under the watchful eye of their parents, they realize the only thing they have in common is that they want the marriage to end. But Derek learns to adapt to the bizarre situation and soon takes a liking to his wife. In fact, he has plans to prove to her married life can be a good thing. With the unexpected assistance of a retired courtesan, Derek quickly learns his marriage is not only worth saving but falling in love with.