Waking Up With a Rake (38 page)
“I must read this to you,” she said, and went ahead without waiting for his assent.
My Lord,
I apologize for the tardiness of this note of thanks, but even now, words fail me in expressing my gratitude to you. You see, my husband was Lieutenant Morris Duffy. I understand you were responsible for carrying him from the field of battle and making sure he received medical care, though his wounds were too grievous to be overcome.
While my dear Morris suffered, he dictated a letter to me with the help of the chaplain. Unfortunately, the chaplain died in a skirmish shortly after that as well and his effects were not examined until his unit was sent home. Due to this series of events, the letter from my husband didn’t reach me until last month.
You must understand that my husband was never one for expressing his feelings. But in that letter, he opened his heart and revealed depths of love for me for which I previously had only hoped.
I would never have known how my husband loved me, if not for you, my lord. For that incredible gift, I am left with only words, but believe me when I tell you they are heartfelt. Thanks seem so small, but I can offer nothing more. I shall mourn my loss until I’m dust myself, but the letter from my husband, which your quick action made possible, has healed my heart.
With undying gratitude,
Lucille Duffy
Her heart shining in her eyes, Olivia handed him the letter. “Oh, Rhys. Don’t you see? You did the right thing.”
He crossed to her chair and knelt beside it. The lump in his throat was so tight, he couldn’t speak. He wrapped his arms around her waist and laid his head in her shrinking lap. He’d borne guilt for prolonging Duffy’s suffering for so long, he’d grown accustomed to its prodigious weight. Now it lifted from him, leaving him feeling so light, he might float away.
He laid his cheek against Olivia’s round belly, and the child inside her gave him a little kick. He laughed and pressed a kiss to her abdomen. “And here’s another thing I did right.”
Then he kissed his way up her body to the exposed skin at her neckline. “And another thing I did right.”
She palmed his cheeks. “Careful. You’ll ruin your reputation as a rake with all this right living.”
“No fear of that. There’s still more than enough wickedness in me to balance it out.”
“That,” his glowing wife said with a lascivious smile, “is something I’m counting on.”
Authors’ Note
In November of 1817, Princess Charlotte died after giving birth to a stillborn boy. She was the sole legitimate grandchild of King George III, the only daughter of the Prince Regent and his estranged wife. It didn’t take a leap of genius for the younger unmarried sons of King George to realize that they had an opportunity to beget a future monarch. And so the “Hymen Race Terrific,” as the London tabloids called it, began.
Three royal dukes were in contention—the Duke of Cambridge, the Duke of Kent, and the Duke of Clarence, who features in
Waking
Up
with
a
Rake
. Clarence sired ten illegitimate children upon an actress with whom he lived for twenty years. He was perpetually in debt and tried to woo a great heiress earlier in his life, but the match was forbidden by an Act of Parliament because the lady was a commoner.
In July 1818, the Duke of Clarence married Princess Adelaide of Saxe-Meiningen, a woman half his age. Clarence set aside his mistress, and his new wife welcomed his nine surviving children into their home. By all reports, the marriage was a happy one, and since his frugal German wife took his finances in hand, Clarence’s debts began to shrink.
In June 1830, at the age of sixty-four, the Duke of Clarence ascended to the British throne to become King William IV. But he and his queen were never blessed with children of their own, so though he eventually wore the crown, the Duke of Clarence did not win the “Hymen Race Terrific.”
That is a tale for another duke.
Acknowledgments
No book comes into being through the efforts of only one person. We have many people to thank. First our editor, Leah Hultenschmidt and our agent, Natasha Kern. Without both of these talented women, our collaboration would never have happened. Then there are all the people at Sourcebooks who prep the manuscript and shape it into its final form—Aubrey Poole, Rachel Edwards, Pamela Guerrieri, and Aimee Algas Alker. We owe a huge debt of thanks to Dawn Adams, who is responsible for the beautiful cover art. You all have our heartfelt thanks!
Outside the bounds of Sourcebooks, we’d be remiss if we didn’t thank Ashlyn Chase, our critique partner. Her patient ear and unbounded encouragement are so appreciated. And hugs to Marcy Weinbeck, our beta-reader. Her sharp eye and exquisite taste keep us from running off the rails!
And last, but not least, you, dear reader. Thank you for taking our stories into your hearts.
About the Authors
Connie Mason, who started her romance-writing career after she became a grandmother, once told
48 Hours
that she does her best work in bed. That work being writing, of course! For her newest releases, Connie has teamed up with Mia Marlowe, a rising star of steamy historical romance. Mia learned about story-telling while singing professional opera. A classically trained soprano, she knows what it’s like to wear a corset and has had to sing high C’s in one, so she empathizes with the trials of her historical heroines.
Connie lives near Tampa, Florida, and Mia lives in Boston, Massachusetts. Credit for putting these two authors together goes to their editor, Leah Hultenschmidt, and their agent, Natasha Kern, who saw the creative potential in this pairing. Both Connie and Mia write sexy, adventurous stories with alpha heroes to love. They hope you’ll enjoy the melding of their styles as much as they enjoyed collaborating to bring their new stories to life.
We love to hear from you. You can find Connie at
www.conniemason.com
and can catch Mia at
www.miamarlowe.com
,
www.twitter.com/Mia_Marlowe
, and
www.facebook.com/MiaMarloweFanPage
.
Happy reading!
Connie & Mia
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