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Authors: Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Conversion is important., #convert, #Conversion

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BOOK: The Reluctant Suitor
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Samantha peered up at him in growing bemusement, but Colton didn’t care to explain his witticism. The fact that his privates still felt as if they had been caught in a clothes-press right along with his trousers made him wonder if it would be safe to approach the lady again without donning a full suit of armor.

Leaving his sibling still puzzling over his statement, he approached the sandy-haired man who had entered hard on his sister’s heels and whose presence had recently been discovered by the wolfhounds. It was evident that this was one young man the animals enjoyed having around, for he was now squatting on his heels beside them, stroking their long coats.

Colton grinned and stretched forth his hand as he neared. “I think after two years it’s about time I welcome my only brother-in-law into the family. What say you, Perceval?”

The low, throaty, canine moans of appreciation ceased abruptly when the younger man jumped energetically to his feet. Readily accepting the proffered hand, Perceval chortled at the unexpected exuberance exhibited by the other and responded with equal fervor as he pumped his brother-in-law’s hand. “Thank you, my lord. It’s good to have you home.”

“None of that
my lord
stuff, do you hear?” Colton protested, his chuckles doing much to soften his gruff reprimand. “We’re brothers now. Call me Colton.”

“An honor I gladly accept,” Perceval replied jovially. “And if you’d reciprocate in kind, I’d be especially pleased if you’d called me Percy. All my friends do.”

“Henceforth I shall consider myself among them,” the new marquess avowed with a slanted grin. “Percy it is then.”

Joining them, Samantha settled her hands on her narrow waist, as if sorely put out with both men. “Well, it’s obvious you two don’t need
me
to make the introductions.”

Colton grinned at her girlish antics. “Mother filled me in on the details of your nuptials in her letters and did much to refresh my memory during our visit this afternoon.” Arching a brow, he looked down his handsome nose at his younger sibling, simulating a lofty manner. “ ‘Twould seem, m’dear, that our mother is thoroughly delighted with your marriage, but she’s beginning to wonder if she’ll
ever
have a grandchild.


Witnessing the swift descent of his wife’s jaw, Percy threw back his head and roared in hearty amusement. “ ‘Twould seem, m’dear, your brother comes right to the point.”

Samantha tossed her head saucily in the air. “M’dear, m’dear, m’dear. If I were at all a suspicious sort, I

’d say the two of you have already been tippling Papa’s port or else his favorite brandy in the drawing room.”

“We’ll get to that after dinner, m’dear. I’ve come to enjoy a glass of the latter myself before retiring in the evening,” Colton assured her with a brotherly pat upon her shoulder.

Percy turned to him in a more serious vein. “You can’t imagine how relieved we all are to have you finally back, Colton. Samantha insisted I keep her abreast of the battles in which you were engaged almost as soon as the couriers arrived at the palace with the outcome. It certainly helped that we had a town house nearby, so I could get a message to her posthaste and she could then expedite the news to your mother.

The awareness that you were constantly in the midst of conflicts wherein so many lives were being lost on both sides filled us all with enormous dread. Your name was on everyone’s lips, especially your father’s while he was yet alive. Although you may not be entirely aware of it, your parents were very proud of you and your accomplishments.”

Percy tossed a grin toward his older brother, causing that one to arch a brow warily. “I’m afraid you put poor Stuart to shame with your many exploits and daring-dos.”

Evidencing nothing more than a minor hitch in his gait, the elder brother approached as a lopsided grin slowly made its way across his lips. “One day, Percy, you may experience for yourself the hazards of being on a battlefield while cannonballs are being lobbed all around you,” he warned, doing his best to present a sober demeanor as he made much of chiding his younger brother. “For too long now you’ve been allowed to serve as a wet-nosed whelp of an emissary to the Prince Regent, but let me assure you, much more will be required of you should Napoleon return yet again.”

“God forbid,” Colton muttered, as if in a muted prayer.

Percy exaggerated shock at his sibling’s repartee. “What’s this? My own brother belittling my valiant attempts to keep his majesty apprised of our troops’ activities? Wet-nosed whelp, bah!” Rising to every degree of his slender, lofty height, he looked the elder Burke up and down as if highly offended. “You have no idea how difficult the riggers of diplomacy can be, else you’d refrain from such malicious slander.


Samantha patted her husband’s arm cajolingly. “Don’t vex your poor brother, dear. He has suffered considerably after that leaden ball shredded a tree and sent huge splinters flying into his flesh. I wouldn’t doubt the roar of cannons makes him quake in terror after the endless torment he suffered at the hands of surgeons who took their time prying all those pieces out. ‘Twill be a miracle if Stuart doesn’t box your ears for claiming
anyone
can put him to shame.”

Her brother-in-law gave her a bow, abbreviated rather harshly by a sharp reminder of his past wound, which at unpredictable times caused painful twitches. “Thank you, dear Samantha. ‘Tis immensely gratifying to realize my brother married above himself when he took you to wife. Obviously you have the intelligence he has been lacking all these many years.” He ignored Percy’s spluttering protests and dryly digressed into difficulties associated with his injury. “Though the wound has mended to a goodly degree, I doubt my pride ever will. Blasted luck, what with so many thinking the worst, and my own brother chortling like a village idiot over the precise location of my injury. Though I’ve tried time and again to explain how I came to be wounded from the rear and have repeatedly given my pledge that I was charging to the fore rather than retreating, my companions . . .
and
brother . . . still hoot in disbelief.

Callous oafs, that’s what they are. ‘Tis sure they’re no friends of mine.”

When the mirth finally subsided, Stuart faced his host in all sincerity. “I’m especially honored by this opportunity to renew our acquaintance, my lord. Wellington sang your praises so often during our latest campaign, we entertained no doubt that you did a great service for our country, not only at Waterloo, but on other battlefields you’ve traversed throughout your illustrious career. From all reports, your regiment proved itself as valiant in battle as any in the British army.”

“I was fortunate to command men of exemplary courage,” Colton assured the major. “Whatever tribute has been bestowed on me, I owe the greater part of it to them, for ‘twas their valor that helped us win

the day over the enemy.”

“They did indeed prove a shining example of a well-disciplined force,” Stuart agreed, “but I also heard in the ceremony wherein your men were being honored that they vowed to the very last man that whenever there was ground to be gained and they had to charge into the ranks of the enemy, you led the way into the thickest of frays and inspired them to accomplish daring feats of their own. They were dreadfully disappointed that you were not there to receive your medals, but I can understand how your injuries might’ve prevented your appearance. May I say, my lord, that few officers have received such glowing accolades from their men as yours bestowed on you that day.”

Uncomfortable with such praise, Colton murmured his appreciation but otherwise remained mute until the lengthy silence made him glance about for some other avenue upon which to turn the subject. He noticed that the young man who had voiced some outrage at his familiarity with Adriana had taken himself to the far end of the hall. It was just as well, for the hothead seemed well out of harm’s way there, at least from the wolfhounds. His host would be another matter entirely if the lad didn’t mind his manners, which he seemed incapable of doing. In spite of the distance between them, Colton could feel the heat of the glare that smoldered in those pale green eyes. It hinted strongly of an unreasonable jealousy that revolved around Adriana, but then again, Colton mentally smiled as he mused, not so unreasonable when a lady was as exceptional as she obviously was.

Colton was convinced this individual was none other than the one his mother had spoken of earlier that afternoon, Roger Elston, the apprentice who, against all odds, was striving desperately to win Adriana’s hand in marriage. In his opinion, the man was definitely reaching beyond his limits.

In presenting an ignoring back to the man, Colton found himself facing the young, fair-haired woman who had approached. “Your pardon, miss, I hope we haven’t been boring you with all this recent talk of war.


“Oh, no, my lord!” Felicity Fairchild protested, fairly breathless with excitement. It certainly wasn’t an everyday occurrence that a bookkeeper’s daughter was able to converse with a high-ranking lord of the realm, but here she was just the same. “On the contrary! ‘Tis thrilling to hear stories of great courage.”

Realizing she had neglected her duties as hostess, Samantha hastened to make amends. “Please forgive my oversight, Miss Fairchild. I’m afraid I became a bit addled after recognizing my brother. Even now, I can hardly believe he’s actually home, after all these many years. With his permission, I’d like to introduce him to you.”

A brief moment was spent performing such a task, at the end of which Felicity sank into a graceful curtsey before the new marquess. “ ‘Tis an honor to meet a man of your renown, my lord.”

“The honor is entirely mine, Miss Fairchild,” Colton responded, managing a crisp bow in spite of the rigidity still vexing him after his lengthy carriage ride. His first experience with enforced immobility had, of course, come after his wounding. He had lain far too long on a cot awaiting the surgeons’ decision before realizing he’d have to save his limb himself or else say good-bye to it, for every one of them had seemed intent upon hacking it off and being done with it. That was about the time he discovered that idleness could be far more vexing than rigorous activity. Throughout his military career, the latter had become part of his way of life. Even now, interminable periods of imposed inactivity seemed to shorten his temper and, because of his wound, stiffen his muscles.

“Miss Fairchild happens to be Samuel Gladstone’s granddaughter,” Samantha explained. “Do you perchance recall the elder, Colton?”

“Of course, he’s the miller who owns Stanover House. Our family used to visit there at least every

Christmas Eve. I can still remember the enormous feasts his servants laid out for his close acquaintances and the people living in the area.”

“For some months now, the miller has been feeling poorly, so Mistress Jane . . .” Pausing, Samantha tilted her head aslant as she peered up at her sibling questioningly. “You
do
remember his daughter, Jane, do you not?”

“As a matter of fact I do, but it has been quite some time since I’ve seen or spoken to her. She moved to London well before I left home.”

“Mr. Fairchild worked at a London counting house until Mistress Jane availed upon him to leave their service and move to Bradford, a change that now allows her to watch over her father. God forbid that Mr. Gladstone should expire, but the mill would become theirs under such circumstances.”

Responding in polite deference, Colton bestowed his attention upon the fetching blonde. “I’m sorry to hear that your grandfather has been feeling poorly, Miss Fairchild. During my absence from home, my mother and sister kept me abreast of his many deeds of benevolence. Without question, Mr. Gladstone is a most admirable man.”

“I must confess we weren’t able to visit Grandpa but on rare occasions while we were living in London,”

Felicity responded prettily, “but since our move to Bradford, I’ve come to realize he has fortified himself with many loyal friends over the years. I’m amazed at the number of aristocrats who come to visit him. ‘

Twas precisely how I came to meet your sister . . . and Lady Adriana.”

Samantha slipped an arm through her brother’s. “Mr. Gladstone seems to have taken on new life since his daughter and her family have moved in with him. No doubt, his spirits have been greatly buoyed by Mr. Fairchild’s decision to manage his mill. God willing, with the elder’s mind now at ease, we shall be seeing a vast improvement in his health in the weeks to come.”

Felicity lifted a sweetly appealing smile to Colton. “Grandpa would be thrilled to hear stories of your experiences in the war, my lord. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t receive a friend, an employee, or some distant relative into his bedchamber for a chat, a tipple, or a game of cards. He’d enjoy it immensely if you were to visit him.”

“I’m sure he has been much encouraged by the company of so many,” Colton surmised pleasantly. “I shall make a point of calling upon him once I’ve become settled.”

“He’s not the only one who has reaped benefits from visitors,” Felicity declared, flicking her long, dark eyelashes to good advantage as she cast glances toward the other two ladies. “The kindness your sister and Lady Adriana extended toward me when they invited me on this outing today left me fairly amazed by the graciousness of both. In London, I was never able to meet individuals of similar noble standing.

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