One Moonlit Night (Moonlight Square: A Prequel Novella) (17 page)

“Here comes my love,” she greeted him cheerfully as he returned to join her in the mesmerizing ritual of watching the waves roll in and crash over the boulders below. The wind ran rampant through his glossy black hair as he carried two sturdy mugs in his hands. “What did you bring me, husband?”

“Hot chocolate.”

“Angel!”

“Here.” He handed her one of the steaming mugs, and she curled her fingers around it, warming her hands.

“Thank you.” She kissed him for his pains.

Gable sat down beside her and joined her under the tartan blanket with a playful shiver. “I need my wife to keep me warm.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” She cuddled against him under the blanket, feeling very cozy indeed.

“Mmm, that’s better. Here, a letter came for you.”

“Really?”

“It’s from your mother.” He took it out of his pocket and handed it to her.

“I’d almost forgotten the rest of the world exists,” she said softly, glancing at him as she took the letter from him.

“We don’t need it,” he whispered, holding her gaze.

She tore herself out of his potent spell. Honestly, he could enchant her with one look, but thankfully, she managed to keep her wits about her.

“Well, let’s see if there’s any interesting news from home or any juicy new gossip from Moonlight Square…”

He curled his arm around her shoulders under the blanket and leaned his head against hers while she skimmed her mother’s report on all the latest goings-on.

“Is your sister back in Town yet?” he mumbled.

“No…”

It seems so quiet around here with both you and Abigail gone. Martha’s getting used to being the eldest in the house now, but all your sisters miss you terribly. Of course, that’s nothing compared to your father’s moping.

“Oh, Papa,” Trinny said under her breath with a pang of affection.

Gable glanced over inquiringly.

“He misses me and Abigail,” she explained to her husband.

He smiled at her. “Can’t blame him. But too bad, I’m keepin’ you.”

She grinned and read on.

Oh, I’m afraid I also have some sad news for you, dear. Old Lady Kirby died in her sleep two nights ago.

“Oh, no!” Trinny murmured in surprise.

They say she went peacefully, which is hardly how she lived, but I daresay you might want to write to your friend Miss Carvel and extend your sympathies at once. Her Ladyship’s passing does not come as too great a shock, given her age, but I do hope the girl will be all right, orphaned as she is, and with her brother away on the far side of the world. The funeral is tomorrow…

“What is it?” Gable asked in concern.

When Trinny told him the sad news, he hugged her and pressed a comforting little kiss to her temple. “Well, I suppose she was very old, wasn’t she?”

“Yes. She lived a good long life, full of adventure, from what I understand. Still… Poor Felicity.”

“You want to go in and write her a note right now?”

Trinny nodded in regret. “If you don’t mind.”

“Come. You keep the blanket. I’ll carry your drink for you.”

He took her cup helpfully while she untangled herself from the tartan.

They got up from the bench and headed back across the green toward their castle. Its stones and towers glowed in a broad ray of sun, and they both gazed at it in wordless admiration as they walked. Meanwhile, the sough of the waves carried on with its endless, rhythmic song, churning at their backs. The lone cry of a gull hovering over the rocks seemed mournful, but Trinny couldn’t help reflecting that endings, though sad, were as much a part of nature’s great cycle as beginnings were.

At least now Lady Kirby had been reunited with her husband on the other side of the veil, she supposed. It made Trinny smile to think of the woman’s free spirit, long trapped in a frail, elderly body, made young and beautiful again in whatever sort of intangible form people received when their souls left this earthly realm.

“So how much longer do you want to stay here, anyway?” Gable asked.

She smiled. “With you, I could stay here forever.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“You’re not getting restless to return to Town, then?” she asked.

“Not at all,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure
you
weren’t getting bored.”

“No, you’ve been keeping me
very
entertained,” she assured him with a gleam in her eye.

He grinned. “I aim to please.”

“No hurry, then?” she pursued as they strolled home, side by side.

“No hurry at all,” he answered gently, and when he sent her a reassuring sideways glance, she saw that love had turned his eyes the deep, soft blue of the sea.

Her heart clenched.
Oh, I love you.
She took her cup of cocoa back from him so she could hold his hand as they walked.

He got the door for her when they came to the threshold of his castle. “After you, my queen.”

She accepted her husband’s gallant gesture as her due but stole a kiss anyway as she brushed by.

“Oh, come back here, you. I want another one of those!” he said as she hurried inside.

“You’ll have to catch me first!” She set her mug aside, dropped the blanket, and ran, laughter trailing behind her.

It wasn’t long at all before he caught her…not far from their bedroom, conveniently.

They were already breathless with laughter and want as he swept her off her feet and carried her into their bedchamber.

As he claimed her mouth, tasting of sweet hot chocolate, their whole sad purpose for coming inside had been temporarily forgotten, but life was for the living, and Trinny had no doubt that Lady Kirby, of all people, would have understood—and categorically approved.

When you found the man you loved, you held on to him with all your heart and cherished every precious day fate granted you together. You took him in your arms and lived each moment to the fullest with unhesitating passion.

And so, Trinny reached over Gable’s shoulder, pushed the bedroom door shut behind them, and did just that.

If you loved
 

ONE MOONLIT NIGHT

by Gaelen Foley

Read on for a sneak peek of the next book in her wildly romantic Moonlight Square series! Find out if Miss Felicity Carvel is really as prim-and-proper as she seems, and whether a scandalous rakehell like the Duke of Netherford can ever be tamed…
 

Duke of Scandal (Moonlight Square, Book 1)

From the Back Cover:

Romance is in the air at Moonlight Square ~ Regency London’s most exclusive address!

Jason Hawthorne, the Duke of Netherford, made it clear to the young, lovesick Felicity Carvel long ago that nothing could ever happen between them. He has
earned
his reputation as the Duke of Scandal—and she’s his best friend’s little sister. For honor’s sake, he vows to stay away from the lovely innocent. But six years of the wealthy libertine’s life have left Jason empty and jaded, while Felicity has blossomed into a strong, beautiful woman, ripe for love and marriage.

When a sudden windfall makes her one of the most sought-after heiresses in London, chased all over Town by fortune-hunters, Jason knows he must keep the rogues at bay until her brother returns from his dangerous mission abroad. Unfortunately, the scandalous attraction between them has only grown to a searing intensity. Deep down, Felicity still wants Jason for her own. But after getting her heart broken once before by Naughty Netherford, does she dare attempt to play with fire again—and this time, can Jason resist?

Turn the Page to read Chapter One…

Chapter 1

The Accidental Heiress

“A
re you sure this is really all right, dear?” Mrs. Brown asked with a fret as the ladies’ town coach rolled along.

Miss Felicity Carvel pondered the question, but then could only sigh.
Honestly, I’m not sure of anything where that rogue is concerned.

“Perhaps you should have sent another letter,” her chaperone suggested.

“He’s ignored the two I’ve already written,” she answered with a shrug. Indeed, she suspected that her letters were, even now, sitting in a large basket of neglected correspondence on the duke’s desk.

Naughty Netherford was too busy having fun.

Felicity shook her head. “If the matter were not so urgent, I should not have minded waiting, but under the circumstances… Well, don’t worry, Mrs. Brown. We shan’t be long,” she assured the older lady. “And besides, we’ve taken every measure to ensure propriety.”
As much as can be had when dealing with a rakehell of the first order.

“Hmm, yes, well, I suppose it
is
early yet,” her chaperone conceded. “With any luck, we may escape his neighbors’ notice. These fashionable folk usually lie abed till noon. Keeping such late hours is not healthy,” she added with a disapproving frown.

“No.” Felicity leaned toward the carriage window, peering out at the aristocratic neighborhood into which their coach now turned. “This place certainly is impressive.”

“You’ve been to Moonlight Square before.”

“Only at night, for balls and such, actually. Never in the daytime.”

“Ah,” said Mrs. Brown.

At night, Moonlight Square had seemed to her to brood beneath the stars in elegant, lordly excess, like some dark, decadent poet…one of those dangerous Romantics.

Even now, the glistening spring morning full of sunshine and birdsong could not quite dispel the eerie cast of melancholy reflecting off all the smooth Portland stone facades. Perhaps its sinister history as a hanging ground explained the pall of gloom that still hung over the place despite its current terraced perfection, all classical, columned porticoes and lacy wrought iron balconies.

In antique maps of London the area was labeled Hell’s Watch, but a decade ago, the Prince Regent’s own architect, Mr. Beau Nash, had built the magnificent garden square right overtop of the old, macabre memories of public executions and doomed rogues hanging in man-cages.

Nowadays the
ton
called this place Olympus on account of all the peers who had moved in. With a duke on every blasted corner, it might as well have been the home of the gods. And yet it did seem to attract a certain type of resident…

The wild, dark lords of Moonlight Square definitely made up their own dangerous breed. They fit right in with the haunted atmosphere that still lingered in this place, as though they were drawn to it. Each an island of gloom and brooding isolation unto himself, they drifted through Society like great, ominous thunderheads, crackling with the tension of pent-up lightning and liable to rage into a storm at any moment.

No wonder
he
had moved here…

At that moment, Felicity’s driver, Thomas, slowed the clip-clopping horses to a halt before the giant corner mansion of the Duke of Netherford.

Right on cue, she felt her foolish heart begin to pound. She leaned toward the window, letting her gaze travel slowly upward over the five-storied splendor of his London mansion. She shook her head to herself.

Lud, sometimes it was hard to believe that the scandalous seducer who dwelled in such pomp was the same wiry rascal of a boy who had gone traipsing through the countryside with her and her elder brother, Peter, growing up. Or rather, the boys had gone traipsing. She, four years younger and a mere
girl
—as though it were a disease—had been tolerated only so long as she could keep up.

What happened to us all?
she wondered.
We used to be so close. We used to have such fun.

Wistfulness filled her for the happy childhood that had faded like a dream. She had known such freedom then, and
he
had once been innocent.

But that was long ago.

Ah, well.
It was obvious what had happened: they had all three grown up. Life had taken its toll on each of them in various distinct ways, and now here they were.

Of course, her brother and Jason were still as thick as thieves, but Felicity had long since been left out of the equation. Oh, she had brought it on herself through her own youthful folly, throwing herself at her brother’s best friend that humiliating day eight years ago.