Lover Be Mine: A Legendary Lovers Novel (34 page)

When his unexpected message came shortly after breakfast, asking her to meet him at
Mrs. Pennant’s home at the hour of eleven, Sophie didn’t dare let herself hope for
an end to the pain.

When she arrived, the setting was much as usual: Her parents and her great-aunt were
gathered in the parlor, although this time Mr. Fortin was reading aloud to the ladies.

At Sophie’s appearance, her father rose with flattering eagerness. “You came home,”
he murmured, holding out his hands to her in welcome.

She hesitated, unwilling to give in unless he himself was prepared to compromise.
She glanced at her mother, who wore a surprisingly serene expression but remained
silent.

“Nothing has changed, Papa,” Sophie reminded him. “I am only here at Lord Jack’s request.”

“Perhaps something
has
changed,” he replied slowly, as if forcing the words between his lips. “I have read
the journal, Sophie, and I … I concede that your Lord Jack has a point. It is possible
that I have been mistaken all these years in blaming his great-uncle, Philip Wilde,
for murder.”

“Does that mean you will allow me to marry Jack?”

Oliver cleared his throat. “Well … I …”

Just then Mrs. Pennant’s butler entered the room and politely waited to be acknowledged.
“A delivery has just arrived for you, Mr. Fortin,” he announced before handing Oliver
a small leather pouch and quietly taking his leave.

Clearly irritated at being interrupted, Oliver broke the official-looking wax seal
and opened the pouch to reveal a thin sheaf of papers inside. As he perused the contents,
his impatience turned to puzzlement.

“What is it, Papa?” Sophie asked.

A look of genuine confusion on his face, her father glanced up. “These documents are
from the Lord Chancellor. I have been nominated for the Most Noble Order of the Garter.
I am to be made a baronet by Prince George at the next presentation of the Honors
list.”

Her mother’s mouth parted in wonder, while a thrill of hope ran through Sophie. “This
must be Jack’s doing,” she breathed.

Mrs. Pennant’s sudden laugh sounded like a gleeful cackle, drawing Mr. Fortin’s attention
to her.

“Did you know about this, Eunice?” Oliver demanded.

“No, I am as surprised as you are, Oliver. But I would have expected such a bold move
from a rogue like Lord Jack. It seems to me that you now have no grounds to oppose
his suit any longer,” Mrs. Pennant said with unconcealed relish.

Sophie’s hope climbed even higher when her mother’s soft voice joined the discussion.
“My dear, we should invite Lord Jack to call upon us as soon as may be.”

Her father still looked a little stunned, Sophie noted. But rather than protest or
reply with a sour or grudging retort, Oliver nodded slowly. Then, shaking himself
out of his daze, he walked over to the bellpull to summon the butler.

To say that Sophie waited on pins and needles was a vast understatement. When Jack
finally walked into the parlor half an hour later, she drank in the sight of him.

He gave her a long, penetrating look, then a faint smile of encouragement that made
her heart soar. Yet she still found it hard to breathe when Jack faced her father
and spoke respectfully.

“You wished to see me, sir?”

Oliver waved the documents at him. “You are responsible for this honor awarding me
a baronetcy?”

“Yes. I consider it partial recompense for the loss your family suffered decades ago.
My chief regret is that I couldn’t manage to secure a peerage for you.”

Oliver cleared his throat again, appearing reluctant to accept any gift from his longtime
enemy, yet all his bluster was gone. At his hesitation, Sophie suspected that gratitude
was warring with his pride.

In the awkward interim, Jack pressed his case. “If your daughter and I were to wed,
sir, she would still become a princess, but she would reside here in England with
me, near to you and Mrs. Fortin—not in Navartania as I once expected.”

When Sophie gave Jack a startled look, he expounded. “Prince Raoul arrived in London
two days ago. Unselfishly, he has changed his mind about the succession. Although
the title is still legally mine, I won’t be claiming his throne after all, or be forced
to relocate there either.”

Sophie exhaled slowly. Then moving to Jack’s side, she took his hand and purposefully
turned to face her father. “Papa, you may as well relent now. If you won’t permit
us to marry, we will simply have to live in sin, and I don’t believe you want that
for your only daughter.”

This time Mrs. Pennant’s bark of laughter led to a coughing fit, but she waved off
any assistance.

Meanwhile, Jack squeezed Sophie’s hand and bent closer to murmur, “Braving the world’s
harsh opinion to follow your heart … You are more like my mother than I realized.”

“I shall take that as a compliment,” Sophie whispered back, before saying out loud,
“Pray consider, Papa, I am likely to become a fallen woman just like our former maid,
Martha. You don’t want your grandchildren to be born out of wedlock, do you?”

Sophie could see him fighting an inner battle with himself, for his complexion turned
ruddy with ire and indignation at the thought of his flesh and blood bearing children
on the wrong side of the blanket.

She might have pressed her threat further, but her
mother interrupted the discussion calmly. “No, Sophie, love, your father does not
want that fate for you or for us. Oliver, dear, we will have to allow the wedding
now. You can see that Sophie has made up her mind and that they love one another.”

Rebecca Fortin rarely put her foot down, but when she did, her husband hastened to
bend over backward to please her.

When Sophie sent her mother a grateful glance, mouthing the words, “Thank you, Mama,”
the elder lady smiled serenely.

“I believe his lordship, Sophie, when he says he only wishes to make you happy. Indeed,
your happiness is all we truly want for you. Isn’t that so, my dear?” she asked her
husband.

“Yes, of course,” Oliver managed to say gruffly.

“It would look very odd,” Mrs. Fortin added gently, “if you accepted such a generous
gift of a baronetcy from her suitor and still refused his request for her hand.”

Oliver swallowed visibly, still struggling to quell his objections. “I suppose you
are right. Very well then … my lord, you may marry my daughter.”

Almost afraid to credit her hearing, Sophie felt her knees go weak with relief. “Papa,
you won’t regret this.”

Evidently Jack wanted to cement the decision before Mr. Fortin could change his mind.
“If I may have a moment of privacy with your daughter, sir, I should like to make
her a formal proposal. The first time I asked her, she refused my offer until you
approved.”

Her father looked surprised and gratified to hear that she had been the dutiful and
loving daughter he
had always known. “Yes, very well, you may propose, but—”

Before Oliver could finish his sentence, Sophie was pulling Jack toward the parlor
door, past her Aunt Eunice, whose eyes were damp with amusement.

Preceding Jack from the room, Sophie said not a word until after she’d led him into
the library and shut the door firmly behind them. If she’d been less desperate for
his touch, she could have waited, but her profound sense of relief and gratitude propelled
her into his arms to kiss him ardently.

It was a long, long moment before they broke off, both gasping and breathing laughter.

“Such impatience,” Jack murmured, his voice an affectionate tease as he gazed down
at her.

“Can you blame me? It has been an eternity since I last saw you.”

His arms had remained around her waist, but when Sophie would have kissed him again,
Jack held her off. “No, I want to do this properly, sweetheart. Permit me ask you
again … will you consent to be my wife, dearest beloved Sophie?”

“Yes, yes,
yes
—of course I consent.”

His laughter was infused with tenderness. “I am flattered by your enthusiasm, darling.
And vastly relieved.”

“So am I. I thought you had given up, but you actually found a way to settle the feud.
You truly do love me after all,” she marveled.

“Certainly I love you. I tumbled headlong for you the moment I met you at your aunt’s
masquerade ball. It just took me a little time to admit it. Even my
father recognized the depth of my feelings before I did.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Did he?”

“Yes, but the signs were always there. That’s why I kept wooing you, even when you
thought all was lost. And why I followed you to France and dragged you to Navartania
with me. And why I agreed to reconcile with my father and even forced myself to become
his acknowledged son and heir. If that doesn’t prove my love for you, I don’t know
what would.”

That much was true, Sophie acknowledged. Jack had persevered even when she’d thought
their future together was a lost cause—at least until this past week when he’d cruelly
sent her away. “I have been in agony, Jack. You let me relinquish all hope.”

“You should have had more faith in me, sweetheart.”

“How could I? You were so secretive about your intent.” Drawing back her fist, she
lightly punched his shoulder. “You could have warned me what you were about. Offering
my father a title was the perfect solution.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you if I failed.”

“Jack … the only thing that disappointed me—that
terrified
me—was that you no longer wanted me.”

“Impossible. I’ve wanted you since I first laid eyes on you, and nothing could ever
change that.”

“Except my marriage to the duke.” Sophie’s expression sobered at the reminder that
Jack had saved her from a bleak future. “If not for you, I likely would be married
to Dunmore by now.”

She shuddered at the thought. Her life would have
been so gray and dreary and colorless without Jack. He was brilliant shades of color,
bursting with life, with flavor. He had challenged and provoked and seduced her, not
just physically but emotionally. He’d led her to confront her parents, and most importantly,
he’d made her realize that she had to fulfill her own dreams, not anyone else’s, no
matter how laudable they might be.

Seeing Jack’s gaze darken at the mention of the duke, Sophie hastened to add, “But
that is all in the past. I love you, Jack, and I want you for my husband.”

“And I want you for my wife, darling Sophie. I’ve been searching for you all my life.”

At his incredible admission, Sophie reached up to thread her arms around his neck.
It was impossible to express the joy she was feeling just now. The joy, the wonder,
the gratitude. Jack was an amazing man, a true kindred spirit, and she loved him dearly.

Yet he still made no move to kiss her again, much to her regret. Instead, he seemed
bent on discussing their immediate plans. “I trust you don’t want a large wedding,
since I mean for us to wed by special license. Tomorrow if possible.”

“So soon?”

“I would like for Prince Raoul to attend the ceremony. His surgery is arranged for
the day after tomorrow, and it would mean a great deal to him to see us marry.”

“I am glad you have forgiven your father,” Sophie said softly.

“Amazingly enough, I am also.” Jack slowly shook
his head. “I never in my life thought I would say this, but I am eager to fulfill
his fondest wish.”

“And what is that?”

“Prince Raoul wants grandchildren.”

Her heart warming, she smiled at Jack’s desire to begin their own family. “You won’t
regret not ruling his country?” she asked.

Jack’s reply was unequivocal. “Never. The titles of prince and princess will only
be honorary. Even so, you will always be a princess to me. If I recall, you were dressed
as one that first night I saw you.”

“And you were the pirate who stole my heart.”

“It was the other way around, I assure you.” His chuckle held a husky note. “Skye
and Kate predicted my downfall that night, but the odds against it were not very long.
My ancestors were famous for their amorous affairs, including my great-uncle Philip,
who started this entire bloody clash with the Fortins. And you know about my mother.
What you may not know is that Skye and Quinn’s parents caused a great scandal in their
day. My Uncle Lionel stole my Aunt Angelique from the arms of a rival.”

“I didn’t realize that.”

“It’s true. And when we Wildes succumb, we love passionately and for life.” Reaching
up, Jack cupped her cheek in his palm. “My capitulation wasn’t dependent on a legend
or a Shakespearean play, however. You were the reason I fell in love, sweet, precious
Sophie.” His gazed softened. “How could I help but love you? I feel joy just being
with you. I feel pleasure at the sound of your voice …”

Her heart filled to overflowing, Sophie tightened her arms around his neck. “I think
you should suit
action to words and show me how much you love me.”

Surprisingly, Jack declined. “Not until we are safely wed.”

“Must we really wait?”

“I fear so. Access to your aunt’s London house is not as convenient as her country
estate.” Jack’s eyes lit with a provocative glint, giving her a glimpse of the charming
rogue again. There was a devil simmering in his eyes, the same wicked gleam that had
attracted her from the very first.

“If I tried to climb up to your bedroom window here,” he explained, “I would run the
risk of getting caught. And your father would no doubt object vehemently, which could
lead to a new feud for another three generations.”

“Heaven forbid.”

“Indeed. Likely he will be on the lookout for any scandalous behavior on my part.
He trusts me even less after you threatened to bear my by-blows.”

“I only made that threat as a last resort, to make Papa see reason, but I meant every
word,” Sophie declared.

“I know, but I want no question about our firstborn’s legitimacy.”

“Nor do I.”

Shifting his hand, Jack brushed her lips with his thumb. “I promise you, the next
time we make love, it will be fully and completely.”