Enslaved (28 page)

“I’m certain I love you, Daisy. Beyond that, nothing else really matters. I don’t care what outrageous stage name you take or what color you dye your hair. You can dress in purple taffeta and rooster feathers if that’s your fancy, it doesn’t matter because I love you. You’re the woman I want to share my life, and I want you to share yours with me. I want to be a father to Freddie and to whatever other children God may grant us. I want to grow old with you, making love to you long after our bones have begun to rattle and creak. And when my time comes to die, I pray it comes before yours because I can’t fathom a world, my world, without you in it. What do you say to that?”

In answer, Daisy wrapped both arms about his neck and, standing on tiptoe, kissed him with all the intensity, all the passion, and all the love she’d shored up for fifteen long years.

Resting a hand atop either of his shoulders, she tilted her face to the side and brushed her mouth across his. “Thank you for loving me,” she said, almost a whisper.

“You’re welcome.” He slid a hand through the warm cinnamon of her hair and brought her face to his. His mouth hovering above hers, he asked, “You’ll marry me, then?”

“Oh, Gavin.” Holding his face between her hands, she brushed her lips over his brow, his jaw, his lips, trusting that her answer was reflected in her eyes and in her kiss and in her touch. Just in case, she drew back. Smiling up at him through the happy tears, she said, “I promise to love you through thick and thin, forever and ever. Come what may, we’ll stay together … just like a real family.”

“Wherever there is a playhouse,
the world will not go on amiss.”
—W
ILLIAM
H
AZLITT

W
ho would have thunk it?

Sipping her post performance champagne with a satisfied smile, Daisy cast her gaze across the theater’s freshly painted green room bursting at the seams with the
crème de la crème
of the London theatrical world as well as her and Gavin’s family and dearest friends. Even Gavin’s grandfather had deigned to attend their debut performance,
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
with a lovely older lady on his arm, Callie’s aunt-by-marriage, Lottie Rivers. Apparently the two had known one another for decades and over the past six months romance had blossomed. Glancing to the pair clinking champagne flutes in the far corner, Daisy saw Mr. St. John was actually
smiling.
Astonishing.

Hadrian and Callie managed to arrive for the play’s final act, but missing from their celebration was Rourke. The Scotsman had sent his regrets in a telegram along with some rather astounding news. He’d eloped with, some might say abducted, Lady Katherine Lindsey. The newlyweds were even now making their way north by train to his crumbling castle in the Scottish Highlands. According to Hadrian, who’d seen the place, Lady Kat would likely have to spend months working her soft, delicate hands to the bone to render it halfway to habitable. Daisy hardly thought a ruin the proper setting for wooing a reluctant bride, but when she said as much to Gavin earlier, he only winked at her and reminded her of where—and how—they spent their own honeymoon night. Thinking back on how they made love in every dusty nook and cranny of their yet-to-be-renovated theater had prompted them to repeat the experience all that morning and afternoon.

Catching sight of Gavin across the room carrying a sleepy Freddie, Daisy sent him a soft smile. He transferred the child into Flora’s arms to be put to bed and walked up to her. “You’re looking rather pleased with yourself, my love.”

“I am. I was just thinking if we must make love in dust and cobwebs, I’d rather it be in a grand old theater than a crumbling castle—or the
attic
of a grand old theater,” she added with a wink.

She and Gavin had resumed their Roxbury House club meetings only this time they held the membership strictly to two and instead of peppermint sticks and lemon drops, they served champagne and decidedly grownup kisses.

“It’s a good thing, too, because given the funds we’ve sunk into this place, the castle may be rather long in coming. As for the other … “ The corners of his beautiful mouth kicked up. “Rourke wed to a blue-blooded shrew, there’s a play in that as well as ample poetic justice.”

“Why, darling, that brilliant mind of yours isn’t only for legal matters, is it?” Catching his blank look, she elaborated, “As Shakespeare might say if he were still alive, the play’s the thing. In this case, the play’s already written and has been for several hundred years.”

Gavin’s gaze connected with hers and a broad smile broke over his face. “You don’t mean
The Taming of the Shrew,
by any chance?”

She nodded. “Indeed. I’d say given the circumstances, a special wedding gift is in order, wouldn’t you? You never know, but it might make for …
instructive
reading.”

“That depends upon Rourke actually reading it. I’ve yet to see him pick up anything that wasn’t a newspaper or railway financial report.”

“You assume Lady Katherine is the one in need of taming.”

He sent her a tolerant smile. “In that case, I’ll post it first thing in the morning.”

He’d surrendered his champagne to ferry Freddie about, and she offered him hers. Holding the fluted rim to his beautiful lips, she felt her heart trip over itself and her skin heat. It never seemed to stop, this passion they shared, this connection of bodies and minds and souls that bound them together as surely as if they inhabited the same skin. Separate people but, together, part of something greater and grander. And though in so many ways this night represented the triumph of her career, she could hardly wait for the guests to leave so she could make love to her handsome husband yet again.

He caught her wrist and brought her palm to his lips, mouth hitting the spot he knew by now drove her mad. Through the satin sheathing of her glove, she felt the heat blaze a trail from her palm to her elbow. His light finger working across her mouth silenced her more effectively than any words could.

Eyes warm, he leaned in and whispered, “Have I told you yet this evening how lovely you look? Or how utterly besotted I am with you?”

He was so dear, so gallant … so Gavin, her husband, her lover and her very dearest friend. These past months she’d made a concerted effort to stop questioning how she’d ever gotten so lucky and accept her good fortune for what it was: happiness, pure and simple.

“I love you, too, with all my heart.”
And all my mind. And all my body.

Now that she’d finally gotten past her fears over saying the l-word, she couldn’t seem to
stop
saying it. She loved him with all that she was and hoped to be. Once the room cleared of guests, she meant to spend the rest of the evening not only telling him but showing him just how very much he meant to her.

The twinkle in his eyes and his sudden smile told her he knew exactly what she was thinking if only because he was thinking the very same thing.

“I know you love me, Daisy. And I’m glad, so very glad.”

—THE END—

A devil’s bargain.

“The photograph must be damning, indisputably so. I mean to see Caledonia Rivers not only ruined but vanquished. Vanquished, St. Claire, I’ll settle for nothing less.”

Known as The Maid of Mayfair for her unassailable virtue, unwavering resolve, and quiet dignity, suffragette leader, Caledonia — Callie — Rivers is the perfect counter for detractors’ portrayal of the women as rabble rousers, lunatics, even whores. But a high-ranking enemy within the government will stop at nothing to ensure that the Parliamentary bill to grant the vote to females dies in the Commons — including ruining the reputation of the Movement’s chief spokeswoman.

After a streak of disastrous luck at the gaming tables threatens to land him at the bottom of the Thames, photographer Hadrian St. Claire reluctantly agrees to seduce the beautiful suffragist leader and then use his camera to capture her fall from grace. Posing as the photographer commissioned to make her portrait for the upcoming march on Parliament, Hadrian infiltrates Callie’s inner circle. But lovely, soft-spoken Callie hardly fits his mental image of a dowdy, man-hating spinster. And as the passion between them flares from spark to full-on flame, Hadrian is the one in danger of being vanquished.

ISBN#1932815759
ISBN#9781932815757
Jewel Imprint: Sapphire
US $6.99 / CDN $8.99
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