Read Proper Scoundrel Online

Authors: Annette Blair

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Gothic, #Romance, #Historical, #Regency, #Romantic Comedy, #Historical Romance

Proper Scoundrel (36 page)

BOOK: Proper Scoundrel
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Jade covered Marcus with a sheet and walked Garrett to the door, leaning into him when he put an arm around her. “You’re a good brother,” she said.

 

“You’re a good sister.”

 

Jade shook her head, unable to think of anything except Marcus. “I hurt him every time I refused to marry him.”

 

“He understands. Let him ask again?”

 

She smiled. “I think I’d like having you for a brother.”

 

“I think I’d like having a honeymoon.” Garrett’s grin discharged the emotional moment. He claimed Abigail and her bedroom upstairs for what was left of the night. Emily would spend it with Eloisa, as she already slept in her bed.

 

Jade went back to sit by Marcus. Why did it take her so long to realize he was her missing half, that she couldn’t live without him?

 

He slept for a good while as she sat watching to make sure his chest rose rhythmically. He nearly gave his life for her and Emily, and he’d do it again.

 

“Oh Gram, I have a rare one, and so did you. Why did you never tell me?”

 

“Because you were an innocent, that’s why.” Beecher came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “By the time you were a woman grown, her mind was muddled and she didn’t have it in her to tell you. And I ... I was a coward, I think, and sick over the thought of losing her. I didn’t consider anything or anyone in those dark days but my own grief.”

 

“Would you have died for her?”

 

He smiled and placed the back of his hand to Marcus’s cheek, nodded. “Was a day I almost did, but like your young man, I kept fighting. That was the last time your grandfather hurt anybody.”

 

Jade read the truth on his face. “But, just before Gram died, she told me she killed Grandfather.”

 

“Did she?” Beecher’s eyes filled and spilled over. “Her last rational thought, her last words, were to protect me.” He wiped his eyes. “I didn’t know. And she didn’t know about that land option, you understand, or what she would put you through. I wasn’t certain what you thought. Might have been you were protecting her land because she wanted it so. Didn’t know she told you about your grandfather, much less that she did it.” Beecher shook his head in wonder.

 

“If your grandfather’s ... irregular ... death came out, Constance’s knowledge of the circumstances would have come out as well. That alone would have certified Dudley’s quest to declare her insane. When I realized you’d started fighting the railroad, I decided to protect and help you, whatever your reason or course.”

 

“So why were you so mad that time I borrowed some of Lester’s clothes without your knowing it?”

 

Beecher shook his head in exasperation. “I heard about that body on the tracks and knew right away it was you. You could have been hurt, blast it.” He inclined his head. “I still don’t understand how Lester’s clothes figured in with that stuffed yellow dress, though.”

 

Jade grinned. “I wore Lester’s clothes over my own breeches to make me look bigger, more robust, and to fit into that big old yellow dress Hildy left behind when she married that peddler, remember? When I got to the edge of the woods near the track, I took off the dress, stuffed it with leaves, and left it on the track. If anybody saw me put it there, they would have seen a heavyset man.”

 

Beecher sighed, his look a mix of pride and aggravation. “I should have known.”

 

“I did wonder,” Jade admitted. “Why you climbed up on that railroad car, after giving me the devil for being there, and helped me throw that lumber in the river.”

 

“I did it for you, and for Constance.”

 

Jade stepped into his embrace. “I miss her.”

 

“Me too.” Beecher took a breath that shuddered out of him. “Life’s short, darlin’. Don’t waste it.”

 

Jade regarded Marcus, face bruised, head bound, more handsome than ever. “He is going to be all right?”

 

“The bullet just grazed him. After a day in bed, he’ll be champing at the bit and you’ll be fit to tie him to the bed. You set to stay with him tonight?”

 

“Try and stop me.”

 

Beecher kissed her brow. “He’s a good man.”

 

“I already figured that out. I’m a slow-top, I know, but late is better than never.”

 

“Never was a near thing.”

 

“I’ll keep that in mind and appreciate every moment.”

 

After Beecher left, Jade knelt by Marcus’s bed and held his hand to her cheek. She wept for the love she had withheld and for the time they had lost already because of her. And when she tired, and finished with self-flagellation, she climbed into bed beside him and laid her arm gently, but possessively, around his waist.

 

“Jade,” he called, frantic. “Emily!” He tried to rise.

 

She pushed him gently back against his pillows. “We’re safe. I’m here. Em’s asleep in Eloisa’s bed. Done in.”

 

He sighed in relief, touched his brow, felt the bandage, then he feasted his eyes on her.

 

“You’re nibbling on me in your mind again.”

 

“You’re in my bed. That gives me nibbling rights.”

 

“That’s a hard head you’ve got there.”

 

Marcus chuckled and winced. “The pot calling the kettle black.”

 

“Yes, and I’m truly determined on one particular point at this moment, so there’s no hope for you. You’d best give in.”

 

“All right,” Marcus said with wary concern. “I give in ... I think.

 

“Heal fast,” Jade ordered, “because I have plans.”

 

“Do you?” Relief and pleasure replaced his wariness as he read her. She saw the smile in his eyes. He brought her hand to his lips, nibbled a finger with tiny distracting kisses. “What kind of plans?” he asked. “Mind, I’m a sick man.”

 

Jade laughed. “Not too sick, I see. But if you must know, I’m planning a wedding ... ours ... because I love you and you love me.”

 

“Aye,” said he. “I do. And I’m up for a wedding.” He gave her his cocky half-smile. “But right now, headache or no, I’m up for a honeymoon more.”

 
Epilogue
 

Summer, 1830

 

Two titled scoundrels and their growing families—the Marquess of Andover and the Duke of Ainsley—filled the first pew at the wedding of Marcus Gordon Fitzalan and Jade Elizabeth Smithfield, as it burst bright upon the dawn, the sky clear and blue.

 

As sunlight filtered through an honour guard of stately stained-glass windows, scattering rainbow ribbons throughout, Jade marched down the aisle of St. Wilfred to meet her destiny.

 

The sexy scoundrel she adored, resplendent in dove-gray trousers and black frock coat, winked when their eyes met, tripping her pulse, filling her heart.

 

When Ivy escorted her to the single triple-arched gothic nave of the church, Marcus took her hand in his and whispered, “I adore you.” Then he placed it on his sleeve and covered it with his own.

 

As life beckoned, radiant with promise, Marcus escorted Jade up six stone steps to kneel before God and His minister.

 

Amid a profusion of multi-hued chalk orchids, the likes of which Jade had not seen gathered in one place, ever, they pledged their vows, voices sure and fit to reach the stars.

 

As with the last Fitzalan nuptials, the wedding breakfast at Peacehaven Manor bore mostly the same guests, but perhaps a louder celebration, since this union had been such a near thing.

 

The cries of kittiwake and herring gulls serenaded the guests at tables on the lawn amid the murmur and approval of the rolling sea.

 

Marcus was called from the table to meet a stranger waiting in the house. Then, to the shock of one guest in particular, Marcus escorted Stephen Hawksworth, Duke of Somerset, out to the celebration.

 

Eloisa screamed and wept as she threw herself into her husband’s arms, and he kissed her enthusiastically enough to draw grins from Marcus and Garrett and sighs from every female present.

 

“I thought you were dead,” Eloisa kept saying.

 

“I was found halfway across the world, days after the ship went down, starving and ill, on a floating barrel of molasses. Once I came to, it took forever to get well and sail home to you.”

 

Stephen kept his arm firm around his wife, his eyes suspiciously bright. “Then I feared I’d never find you. I know what Arthur did. He’s been dealt with. He won’t hurt you again.”

 

The news spread through the gathering. Eloisa was the Duchess of Somerset and her husband had returned from the dead.

 

Since she seemed too overcome to realize she had a surprise for Stephen, Lacey and Jade fetched Mac and Garth.

 

When they brought the twins ’round to the group, Eloisa’s handsome Duke looked surprised at the sight of a bride and her attendant, babes in arms. He smiled but seemed unsure of what to say.

 

Eloisa squeaked and took the babies. “Stephen, this is little Marcus and little Garrett. We call them Mac and Garth for short.”

 

Her Duke chucked one under the chin and ruffled the other’s wayward thatch of hair, though it was clear he had no notion of why.

 

Jade laughed. “I’m very sorry to say that they’re not ours, because we love them, but they happen to be yours.”

 

The handsome man looked thunderstruck. “But I thought—” He regarded Eloisa. “I was told that you’d lost—”

 

She shook her head. “I lied to protect our sons, and just now, in the face of your return from the dead, so to speak, I honestly forgot you didn’t know they existed.”

 

“Our sons,” Stephen said, a grin spreading across his features, brightening his eyes, making him appear more handsome.

 

Eloisa placed them in his arms, and Stephen joined the wedding guests at the table.

 

Jade and Marcus returned to their seats to await the next course. Jade leaned close to Marcus. “Stephen still has Mac and Garth on his lap,” she whispered. “Do you think we should tell him about their unfortunate tendency to piddle at unexpected moments?”

 

“I think he needs to be ... baptized in the knowledge.”

 

The bride and groom’s laughter set the pace for the day.

 

As the South Downs Railroad had reached Tidemills by its June 30th deadline, the members of the wedding party were not only celebrating a marriage long overdue, they were jubilant over surmounting impossible odds. They also stood to become wealthier than they had dreamed, for Parliament, the day before, had granted them a charter to finish the trek to Dover. The East Coast route would be theirs.

 

Beecher gave them additional reason to celebrate. The day after Grandfather’s relocation, he turned himself in to the magistrate for the deaths of Jade’s grandfather and cousin.

 

Within the week, because his actions had saved the lives of others in both cases, Beecher was exonerated.

 

The wedding feast lasted three hours, but the celebration continued, in high spirits, long after.

 

Late in the day, Ivy came to sit beside Lacey. “Why so sad?”

 

She smiled serenely, belying her sadness, as she watched Eloisa speak her tearful good-byes, her Duke beside her. “I’m not sad, Ivy. I’m happy. Glory the Fairy Queen’s been granting ‘Happily Ever Afters’ all over Peacehaven lately.”

 

“Time you had one for yourself, little girl.”

 

“Me? I’m beyond fairytales.”

 

“If you’re so set on facing the real world, then, why don’t you come back with me to Arundel?”

 

“There are those who would not be pleased to have me home.”

 

“It’s time you thought of you for a change.” Ivy slapped his thighs. “You’re coming. That’s an order, and I’ll have no argument. It’s time.”

 

Lacey smiled in a way that made Ivy grin. “I’ll be ready, my friend,” she said, “whenever you are.”

 

He kissed her brow. “I’m looking forward to our journey. But for now, I have a date with two little girls and a second attempt at a puppet-wagon sleepover. We’ll give Jade and Marcus a late morning, and leave for Arundel around noon, shall we? I’ll have a difficult enough time as it is getting Emily to sleep tonight. She attended her parents’ wedding today and she’s going on her first honeymoon tomorrow.” Ivy chuckled as he walked away.

 

Jade and Marcus stood in the Peacehaven forecourt at the top of the drive and said their final good-byes to Eloisa, Stephen and the twins.

BOOK: Proper Scoundrel
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