A Notorious Love (42 page)
As he entered, he spotted them at the opposite end. The two of them stood gazing out through the windows overlooking the rear garden, their backs to him. The sight of Helena, so lovely in her swan-white gown, arrested him. He halted, drinking her in, wishing she didn’t seem so perfectly suited to her surroundings.
Did he have the right to ask this of her, to ask her to give up all this?
Perhaps not. But he was a selfish bastard, so he’d do it anyway. Because without her, there was no point to anything.
Suddenly, Helena’s soft voice wafted to him on the breeze. He stepped closer to hear her say, “Truly, your grace, you must give up this silly idea that we have met before. I would swear that tonight is the first time I’ve ever laid eyes on you.”
“Do not play coy, madam. I have just figured out where I saw you. It was in Brennan’s office a couple of weeks ago. I recognized you at once.”
Helena sighed. “Oh, yes, of course. I’d forgotten about that.”
“But I had not,” Montfort said smoothly. “Did you truly believe I could forget so exquisite a creature?”
Daniel bristled, but he desperately wanted—needed—to hear her response, so he continued to stand back.
“Thank you for the compliment,” she replied, “but I think there’s something you should know about me.” She glanced up at the duke. “I was at Mr. Brennan’s office for a very good reason the day you saw me. You see, he is the man I intend to marry.”
Her declaration shattered the weight crushing Daniel’s chest. Hope flared in its place, spreading like wildfire through his limbs, flaming out of control in his heart.
Montfort snorted. “Marry Brennan? Surely you jest.
Good Lord, that would be like yoking a nag to a prime stepper.”
“I beg your pardon,” Helena said in her frostiest tone, “but are you comparing me to a horse?”
“I didn’t mean—”
“And which am I? The nag or the prime stepper?”
Daniel smothered a laugh. The man was already in way over his head, and he didn’t even know it.
“Why…the prime stepper, of course!”
“I assure you that my fiancé is not remotely like a nag.”
So now she was calling him “fiancé,” was she? It made him want to crow it to all the lapdogs in the ballroom.
She went on. “If I were so crass as to compare him to any animal, I would describe him as a lion. He’s one of the finest men in all England.”
Montfort was not impressed. “One of the finest—are you mad? I can understand his appealing to certain low sorts of women, but I can’t believe a woman of your obvious intelligence, taste, and breeding would be so foolish as to wish to marry a coarse lout who—”
“Struggled against enormous odds to make something of himself?” she broke in. “Accomplished success despite lacking the advantages of birth, wealth, and education that your grace was given?” Her tone dripped sarcasm. “Yes, why would I be so foolish?”
Montfort shook his head. “He used to be a smuggler, for pity’s sake. Did you know that?”
“Of course. I know everything about Mr. Brennan. He’s my fiancé.”
That word sounded better every time she said it, Daniel thought with deep satisfaction.
“
Everything?
” Montfort snorted. “Then did you know that your precious Mr. Brennan is also given to…shall we say…certain unsavory habits? He consorts with
loose women. He frequents a number of places of ill repute and—”
“Not anymore,” Helena said firmly. “Besides, you, of all men, can scarcely criticize him for
that
. From what he’s told me, you’ve also been known to visit a certain Mrs. Beard’s establishment from time to time.”
Daniel had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. When the lass threw propriety to the winds, she didn’t do it by halves.
“M-Mrs. Beard?” Montfort sputtered. But his shock apparently gave way to something more alarming. “Well, well, Lady Helena. If you know of Mrs. Beard’s, then you are far more a woman of the world than I realized. But if it’s Brennan’s legendary prowess in the bedchamber that interests you, I assure you there are men of your own rank who can satisfy those urges better than he.”
Montfort suddenly bent to kiss her, and Daniel surged forward with a growl. But before he could reach them, the crack of Helena’s hand against the duke’s cheek sounded loudly in the conservatory.
“You insolent chit—you slapped me!” Montfort protested, outraged.
“If you ever try that again, your grace,” she said icily, “I shall do more than slap you—I shall break my cane over your thick head.”
That was Daniel’s cue. “You’d best mind her warning,” he growled as he approached. “The wench has a wicked swing.”
Helena heard the familiar voice with joy, although her companion jumped and whirled around in horror. She turned to find Daniel standing a few feet behind her in evening cutaway and breeches, looking every bit as lordly as his grace, but more handsome by far.
“Daniel!” Her cane clattered to the floor as she practi
cally threw herself at him. He swung her up into his arms and kissed her without restraint, though the Duke of Montfort stood stiffly by, watching them.
Her heart soared. He was here at last! And claiming her for all the world to see. After an endlessly thrilling kiss, he drew back but did not release her, holding her quite possessively in his arms.
The duke chose that moment to make his apologies. “Brennan, I do hope you realize that I did not mean to—”
“Insult Helena? Try to steal her?” Daniel glowered at the duke over Helena’s head. “I s’pose I shouldn’t blame you, since she’s such a lovely lass. But she’s
my
lovely lass, and don’t you forget it. Because if I ever catch you within two feet of her again, I’ll prove myself the ‘coarse lout’ that I am and put my fist right through your bloody jaw.”
His
“lovely lass.” No words had ever sounded so magnificent.
Montfort’s eyes narrowed, but he clearly knew better than to say anything. Rigidly dignified, he stalked past them and out of the conservatory.
“Oh, Danny,” Helena whispered as soon as he was gone, “I am so glad you are back. I have missed you very much.”
“I can see how much you missed me,” he grumbled. “Going off alone with dukes and God knows who else. Rosalind said the men have been flocking about you like magpies, the bloody sots.”
His jealousy delighted her. “If you were so concerned about it,” she couldn’t help teasing him, “you should not have stayed away so long.” Then she sobered. “I was worried sick about you, my love.”
“Were you?” He kissed her again, lingering this time as if he never wanted to stop. When he pulled back, his breath raced as rapidly as hers. “I’m sorry, love. My uncle
caused me trouble at every turn, but he’s gone now. With any luck, he won’t bother us again.”
“Well, if he tries, I’ll simply shoot him,” she told him quite earnestly. “Though you’ll have to buy me a pistol first. And teach me how to shoot it.”
He chuckled. “You seemed to be managing fine without it. But a larger cane might be in order, to beat off all the randy lords running after you now that they’ve recognized what I’ve known all along.”
“Oh? And what is that?”
“That you’re a treasure. That any man would be bloody fortunate to have you for his wife.”
Her heart tripped in her chest. “Is that your roundabout way of proposing marriage to me again, after you so dreadfully withdrew your offer a week ago?”
His sensual grin sent wonderful shivers of anticipation down her spine. “No. Since I didn’t like your answer a’tall the first time I proposed, I’m not giving you the chance to refuse me this time.” His eyes glowed down at her, full of promises for the future. “I love you, lass. I gave you plenty of chances to escape me, but you didn’t take them. So now we’re getting married, and there’s not a bloody thing you can do to stop it.”
She smiled coyly up at him, her heart full to bursting with her love. “And what will an arrogant rascal like you do to ensure I comply with your wicked demands? Shackle me naked to a bed and make love to me all night long?”
His eyes gleamed. “If that’s what it takes.”
She wound her arms about his neck. “Then by all means, my love—let’s go find a bed and a shackle.”
F
or those of you wondering about Helena’s mysterious illness, it’s polio. The only term for it at the time was infantile paralysis, referring to polio that occurred in infancy. But it could also strike adults, although there wasn’t a term for that. I discovered in my research that polio goes back at least as far as 3,000 years ago among the Egyptians. Though cases were rare until the twentieth century, they weren’t unheard of. I was careful to set Helena’s circumstances up so that she might fall prey to it as an adult (with no exposure to bad sanitation in her youth, where she might have built up immunity, and then sudden exposure as a grown-up). As for her struggle to regain use of her legs, there are numerous cases where victims have obtained such success, depending on the severity of their illness and its effect on
their muscles. I drew on a wealth of research to depict polio’s impact on Helena.
I also tapped numerous sources for my portrayal of the smugglers in Hastings. The St. Clements Caves actually exist and were indeed used by smugglers; presently a Smugglers Adventure tour takes place there. The Hawkhurst Gang was every bit as ruthless as Helena describes and did much to curtail public sympathy toward smugglers at this time. For the most part, however, smugglers were not violent. Plenty of ordinary people (yes, including clergymen) dabbled in free trading on the side and quite a few wealthy individuals subsidized their endeavors, so I had fun making Daniel straddle those two worlds.
I’ve been creating fiction for years (I started when I was two and it’s only gotten worse since then), and I plan to continue until my imagination stops filling my head with ideas, which should be sometime in the next century. Besides, writing novels gives me an excuse for not cleaning the house.
Fortunately, my dear husband and son tolerate my obsession because a) I still cook; b) they don’t know how to write novels; and c) they know I’m much happier with plots and characters in my head than with a mop in my hand.
So if you’d like to know more about my numerous books under various names (or find out just how I turn the flotsam and the jetsam in my head into actual books), visit my website at
www.sabrinajeffries.com.
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M
ARRIED TO THE
V
ISCOUNT
D
ANCE OF
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EDUCTION
A
FTER THE
A
BDUCTION
A N
OTORIOUS
L
OVE
A D
ANGEROUS
L
OVE
T
HE
D
ANGEROUS
L
ORD
T
HE
F
ORBIDDEN
L
ORD
T
HE
P
IRATE
L
ORD
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A NOTORIOUS LOVE
. Copyright © 2006 by Sabrina Jeffries. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
ePub edition September 2006 ISBN 9780061750922
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