A Timeless Romance Anthology: European Collection (18 page)

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Authors: Annette Lyon,G. G. Vandagriff,Michele Paige Holmes,Sarah M. Eden,Heather B. Moore,Nancy Campbell Allen

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Historical Romance, #novellas, #sweet romance, #Anthologies, #clean romance, #Short Stories

BOOK: A Timeless Romance Anthology: European Collection
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Stuart rushed to his aid. “Should have warned you it was strong.”

Amelia bit back a laugh and turned away, pretending to refill her glass. How she loved being able to affect him like that. How wonderful to make him feel something other than the sorrow he’d dealt with so long.

How wonderful he makes
me
feel.

After composing herself, Amelia glanced Ethan’s direction again and caught him using his handkerchief to wipe at a spot on his trousers. When he discovered her watching, his eyes narrowed in a rakish stare that told her she’d pay later.

She couldn’t wait.

She stood and walked over to stand behind Stuart’s chair, hoping to break into their conversation and suggest that he retire for the night.

Ethan started up, staring at her again, tempting her more subtly, but obvious to her, nonetheless.

He drank from his glass— successfully this time— then ran his tongue over his lips so seductively she felt a little giddy and lightheaded just watching. She reached for the back of Stuart’s chair, accidentally knocking the glass from her hand. It fell to the floor and shattered.

Amelia gasped, and Ethan jumped up. Only Stuart didn’t react.

“Feeling unwell, sister?” he asked, as if he’d expected as much. “Don’t fret. Ethan’s not at his best either, though the poison may take a bit longer to get to him. He wasn’t supposed to drink the wine. He was supposed to die earlier, in the carriage accident.”

“What are you talking about?” Ethan’s gaze snapped to Stuart; all traces of teasing and humor vanished.

“The end of the Moorleigh dynasty, of course,” Stuart said casually.

Behind him, Amelia reeled.
Poison? Stuart, a murderer.
It couldn’t be. And yet… Long-buried memories stirred. Her hand shook on the back of his chair.

Thinking fast, she made an exaggerated show of staggering toward the door. Ethan started toward her.

“Don’t.” Stuart withdrew a pistol and leveled it at Ethan’s heart. “She’ll be dead in a minute or two anyway. That’s how long it took her mother.”

Mother.
Amelia crashed into the sideboard, partly on purpose, partly from shock. The half-empty bottle teetered then tumbled to the floor. She fell across the marble top, her arm reaching inside for the wine Stuart had brought.

“Why?” Ethan asked, his voice a mixture of bewilderment, pain, and anger.

Don’t do anything foolish,
she prayed, not daring to look at him.

“Why did I wait so long, you mean?” Stuart said.

Amelia put the bottle behind her and straightened.

“It’s the least you deserve after stealing Clara,” Stuart said. “One night with you, and she came to tell me we were over. She no longer wanted to leave you. Of course, I couldn’t let her go back. And I couldn’t let you keep Abigail.”

His murderous statements hung in the air. Amelia felt truly sick, though she’d had none of the poisoned wine.

“Then there was Mary,” Stuart continued. “I wanted her, and she knew it. Yet she threw herself at you, so I couldn’t claim her as mine. It took awhile, but I got her in the end. The midwife was supposed to kill your brat, too.”

Ethan’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. Behind Stuart, Amelia inched closer.

“Why bring Amelia into this?” Ethan kept his gaze focused on the gun pointed at him. 

“You were supposed to die before her,” Stuart said. “Then I, the ever-loving brother, would step in to care for her— and the fortune you left.”

Amelia lunged toward Stuart and smashed the bottle over the back of his head. The pistol fired into the opposite wall, and Ethan wrested it from Stuart’s hand.

“Good gracious!” Hocksley entered the room.

Ethan used the back of the pistol to ensure Stuart’s unconsciousness, and Stuart slumped forward, sprawling on the floor.

“We shall require some rope,” Ethan said, addressing Hocksley. “And send for a carriage.”

Amelia’s hands came to her mouth as she looked at Ethan standing over Stuart’s body. Her gaze shifted to the broken pieces of bottle and the poisoned wine pooling on the floor. She thought of what might have been and burst into tears. 

Chapter Ten

 

“I thought you were going to show me the
inside
first,” Amelia protested, as Ethan hurried her through the main hall and up the stairs of Bamburgh Castle.

“Another time,” Ethan said. “I know the owner. Returning won’t be a problem.”

“Would that owner happen to be— you?”

He grinned. “Guilty, I’m afraid. Now come. There’s a storm rolling in, and I want you to see this first.”

She laughed and ran up the stairs after him. There wasn’t much in Bamburgh that Ethan didn’t own, as she’d learned in the month and a half since their wedding. But that wasn’t why she loved him. Since the night Stuart had tried to kill them both, their bond had been unbreakable. Ethan had been her personal pillar of strength as she’d dealt with her brother’s treachery and uncovered the truth about her parents’ deaths.

By the time they reached the top of the steep, winding staircase, she was breathing hard. Ethan opened the door and led her outside to very top of the castle. Amelia turned a slow circle, drinking in the breathtaking vistas stretching in all directions— the quaint town, sail-filled harbor, and windswept sea. But it was what she caught sight of on her last turn that sent her heart racing.

A four-poster bed— minus the canopy— had been placed atop the castle.

“Whatever were you—” Her question turned to laughter as Ethan swept her up in his arms and carried her toward the bed.

“An extraordinary woman like yourself deserves an extraordinary experience.” He set her down gently. “One that
no other
has had.”

Amelia’s laughter died out, replaced by a fierce love for the man before her. She reached for him, pulling him down beside her, accepting his gift and its meaning.

She was not his first love, but his last, and they would take each day given them and savor it for the gift it was.

 

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Michele Paige Holmes spent her childhood and youth in Arizona and northern California, often curled up with a good book instead of out enjoying the sunshine. She graduated from Brigham Young University with a degree in Elementary Education and found it an excellent major with which to indulge her love of children’s literature.

 

Her first novel,
Counting Stars
(Covenant Communications, 2007), won the 2007 Whitney Award for Best Romance. Its companion novel, a romantic suspense titled,
All the Stars in Heaven
(2009), was a Whitney Award finalist, as was her first historical romance,
Captive Heart
(2011).
My Lucky Stars
(2012) completed the Stars series.

 

When not reading or writing romance, Michele is busy with her full-time job as a wife and mother. She and her husband live in Utah with their five high-maintenance children and a Shitzu that resembles a teddy bear, in a house with a wonderful view of the mountains. You can find Michele on the web at
http://michelepaigeholmes.com
and on Facebook and Twitter: @MichelePHomes (preschooler permitting). 

 

by Sarah M. Eden

Chapter One

 

London—1813

Lucy Stanthorpe had every intention of taking London entirely by storm. She was returning in triumph, having survived two Seasons as a debutante and ultimately securing for herself a husband any lady would be proud to call her own. She had her darling Reed to go with her to balls and musicales, to drive her about Hyde Park during the fashionable hour. She wouldn’t spend the entire Season sitting alone in the parlor, or unclaimed for dance after dance at the fashionable balls. She could go to every event with her husband at her side. And she would love every elegant minute.

This Season would be simply wonderful.

“I wonder what will be playing at the Theatre Royal,” Lucy said as the carriage rolled over the cobblestones toward their London home.
Her
London home. It was a wonderful thing to have a place of her own, one she and Reed would come to every year, where she could host her own at-homes and balls, where they would one day have children in the nursery and years of memories. “Lady Parvell will, I am certain, host her annual musicale. And I have missed the British Museum. We must visit it this summer.”

Reed nodded as he flipped a page of the newspaper. “I understand the Egyptian collection has been recently expanded.”

The first thing they’d found in common was their love of history and the museum. She wouldn’t have to spend the Season begging her father to take her to see the exhibits.

“Ooh, and Gunter’s for ices.” Lucy grinned at the reminder of one of London’s greatest treats. “And Hyde Park during the fashionable hour.” Reed had taken her for a drive in the park more than once in the final days of their courtship. She’d come to love going to the park with him for company.

Reed gave her a quick smile. She hoped that smile of his would always make her a little giddy.

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