Tempting Her Reluctant Viscount (28 page)

Now Abigail began to cry.

“I love you, too,” she whispered as she embraced her stepdaughter tightly. “I always have.”

…

Michael and Lady Lancaster were watching the exchange fondly when the duchess tried to surreptitiously dab her eyes with a hankie. Of course, Michael caught her.

“Elizabeth,” he said with a smile. “You soft-hearted fool, you.”

“Oh, hush, Michael…I just have something in my eye,” Lady Lancaster sniffed, knowing he didn’t believe her for a moment, but not particularly caring. Female solidarity always choked her up, and this display was made even more poignant by one of those women being her dear Hope.

“Ah, Hope?” Michael prompted gently, offering her his handkerchief. “Was there anything else you wanted to talk about with your stepmother?”

Pulling back from Abigail, Hope took the proffered cloth and dabbed at her eyes a bit before handing it over to her stepmother.

With a smile, she said to Abigail, “Well, no doubt you have already considered this, but my father has undoubtedly left us with a mess to clean up. There are bound to be debtors, the bank, other business matters…”

Here, Michael chimed in. “With your permission, I would like to help out in that area. I will speak to your debtors and any other businessmen necessary and arrange for the clearing of any issues, and perhaps look into selling your house. I assume it is not a place you would consider living again?”

“No, I suppose not,” Abigail assured him. “I would be very grateful for any help you would be willing to offer with the bank and the creditors, my lord.”

“Of course. And now, if you will indulge me,” Michael requested formally before turning to Mrs. Stuckeley and saying, “Mrs. Stuckeley, as the only remaining parent of Hope, I would like to ask you for her hand in marriage. And, if given your permission, I very much would like for you and the children to come and live with us at Lichfield Lodge after the wedding. We have plenty of room, and I know Hope would love to have you all close.”

Hope reached over and took Michael’s handkerchief back from her stepmother as the tears began to form in her eyes again. “That is the sweetest—oh, Michael…” Unable to speak further, Hope turned to her mother with eagerness shining in her eyes.

“Of course you have my permission to marry Hope. It is what I have been praying for all along. I am honored that you would even think to ask me.”

“And I am honored to have such a brave and special woman to call my mother-in-law.”

“Oh,” Abigail cried, “now
that
deserves a hug!”

And hug him, she did.

After the briefest of hesitations, Michael laughed and hugged the diminutive woman back. Things were turning out even better than he had planned. Marrying Hope not only garnered him a wife, but an entire family. For so long, it had just been him and Elizabeth, but now…now he was surrounded by people to love and those who would love him in return.

“Well, now that that is settled,” Lady Lancaster said grandly, “I believe we should talk about this wedding. I insist that we have the wedding party here, at Lancaster House. It will be the grandest event ever. In fact, perhaps I will throw you a ball. Would you like that?”

…

A ball
, Hope repeated to herself in astonishment. In her recollection, Lady Lancaster had never thrown a ball before. Looking at Michael, she could see that he was shocked by the suggestion, as well.

“Ahhh,” Michael replied slowly, “while I appreciate the idea, Elizabeth, I think a small reception or perhaps a dinner party would be more to our liking. Hope?”

Still intrigued by the notion of a ball being thrown by Lady Lancaster, Hope had to admit it wasn’t exactly how she wanted to celebrate her wedding. She wanted something small and intimate where she knew everyone and felt comfortable and safe. So many balls of her experience were spent in inane small talk with people she barely knew. No, a ball was not what she wanted.

“I agree with Michael. Thank you for the thought, my lady, but I should enjoy a small gathering above all else.”

“Very well, then,” the duchess acquiesced gracefully. “A reception, it is. Mrs. Stuckeley, would you like to help with the planning? I believe your input would be invaluable.”

Abigail, obviously pleased to have been asked, accepted immediately, and the two women moved to a small desk and pulled out a sheath of paper and a quill and ink and delved into the planning right away.

Hope giggled at their single-mindedness and looked at Michael in amusement. “I suppose it is real now…with those two planning it, there is no chance a wedding will not happen.”

“There was no chance of that, regardless,” Michael replied firmly. “I am never letting you go, Hope Stuckeley, soon to be Ashmore. Never.”

“Don’t expect any argument from me, my lord. In this, we are in complete accord.”

And with no regard to the presence of Elizabeth and Abigail—who were more than occupied, in any case—Michael pulled Hope into his arms for a soul-searing kiss.

When he finally pulled back, he whispered, “The day my brother died, I thought my chance for a happy future was lost. Little did I know that all I needed was a little
Hope
in my life. Thank you for giving me back my joy.”

“Oh, Michael,” Hope replied with smile that she felt to the tips of her toes, “the pleasure has been all mine.”

Acknowledgements

Special thanks to my agent and editing team. They make me look good!

About the Author

Catherine Hemmerling has spent most of her career as a technical writer in the software industry, but in the last few years has realized her dream of becoming a published writer. Every day she pinches herself to make sure her new life is real. Living with her family in the hills of southern California, Catherine spends her days devising plot twists, agonizing over titles, and making a lot of new imaginary friends; and is loving it.

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