Love's Peril (Lord Trent Series) (50 page)

“You promised to behave better,”she scolded.

“I went to France because I thought it was best for her.”

“You left her alone and in trouble.”

He shrugged, actually looking abashed. “I hadn’t been informed of her condition, and I came as soon as your husband notified me.”

“I’m glad to hear it. You’re improving already. I knew there was hope for you.” She stared at Sarah. “Has he proposed?”

“Yes.”

“Down on one knee, humbled and contrite?”

“Well…down on one knee. I don’t suppose he’s ever been humble or contrite.”

“No, I don’t suppose he has,”Harriet agreed. “If he’s proposed, what is the problem?”

“I’m afraid he won’t stay with me, that he won’t love me, that he doesn’t mean it.”

“I can’t force him to love you,”Harriet firmly stated, “but he’ll stay. Won’t you, John? I’m demanding it of you. What is your answer?”

“I can’t refuse you, Harriet.”

“No, you can’t.” Harriet smiled at Sarah. “He’ll stay, Sarah. Always. I swear it to you.”

“Until my dying day,
chérie,
”John vowed. “I will love you ‘til I draw my last breath.”

His siblings approached—Fanny, Helen, Phillip—so they were behind him. Tristan and James Harcourt—his other siblings—came, too. John peered over his shoulder at them, then at Sarah.

“My family is here, Sarah. They have given me their blessing, so I ask you in front of them. How will you reply? Will you have me?”

Sarah gazed at John, surrounded by the siblings he’d never wanted and had declined to claim. He was one of them now, their bond blossoming, and over the years, it would continue to grow.

She looked over at Caroline, snuggled with her darling Raven Hook.

She remembered the prior summer when she’d been so happy, so filled with elation she could have burst.

John, Jean Pierre could make a woman feel that sort of joy. He could make a woman feel special and unique. He’d offered himself to her, with his family looking on. How could she say
no
?

“Ask me again,”she told him.

He dropped to a knee and clasped her hand. “My dearest, Sarah, will you marry me. Will you have me?”

“Yes, my dearest, Jean Pierre. I will have you forever. I will have you ‘til my dying day.”

He paused for a moment, then pushed to his feet. He grinned his devil’s grin.

“I knew I could convince you.”

She snorted with disgust. “Oh, you’re the worst.”

“Yes, I am, but you’re very, very lucky.”

“Why is that?’

“Because I’m yours, and you’ll never be shed of me.”

“You’re mine,”she murmured. “I like the sound of it.”

“So…can we get married? How many more times must I ask?”

“No more times.” Sarah nodded, satisfied and contented and finally at the spot where she’d always belonged. “Yes, Jean Pierre, we can get married. Right here. Right now.”

He led her to the altar, as the guests in the pews began to cheer.

EPILOGUE

“You didn’t attend Fanny’s anniversary party.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Charles stared across his desk at Phillip. They were in Charles’s library, having a companionable brandy. He’d been out of town, and upon arriving back in the city, his initial act had been to invite Phillip to visit.

He sipped his drink and studied his oldest child, being constantly surprised by how they could be so similar but so different.

Phillip was kind and generous and noble. He possessed a sense of duty and loyalty that mystified Charles, that exasperated him but that made him proud, too. He was glad he’d sired such a fine man, but he attributed Phillip’s stellar characteristics to the grandparents who’d raised him. Charles had had naught to do with it.

He knew he should feel more of a bond with his children, but he didn’t. He and Phillip had a relationship because Phillip pursued it, because Phillip insisted on it. If the situation had been left to Charles, no connection would have been considered.

“I was going to come and fetch you,”Phillip complained. “I’d have dragged you over to Fanny’s whether you agreed to attend or not.”

“I was in Scotland.”

“On purpose? So you wouldn’t have to socialize?”

“Perhaps,”Charles admitted. He’d deliberately traveled so as to miss the event.

“You’re a wretch, Charles.”

“I’m cognizant of my faults. I don’t need you enumerating them.”

“Fanny took it as an insult. She said she didn’t, but it was obvious she was hurt.”

“I’ll send her a gift to smooth over her upset.”

“She doesn’t want…
things
from you. She wanted you at her party—in the flesh. Though why she bothers—why any of us bothers—is beyond me.”

Charles narrowed his gaze. “Are we quarreling?”

“I know better. It’s a waste of energy to quarrel with you.”

“Yes, it is. And to scold. Please don’t.”

If he was in the mood to be scolded, he’d dine in and have supper with his wife.

“Helen and Harriet were aggravated too,”Phillip said.

“I guess I’ll be buying more than one gift.”

Phillip rolled his eyes. “Would you stop it? They’re fascinated by you. Be nicer to them.”

“I’ll try.”

“Not that you deserve to be apprised, but they’re both increasing. They spent the entire evening waiting for you to arrive so they could tell you.”

“Is this your method of informing me that I’m about to be a grandfather again? You’re aware of how I hate the news. It makes me feel so old.”

“Everyone gets old, Charles. Even you.”

“Unfortunately.” He sighed. “I wish I was still twenty-five. That was a good year for me. I really enjoyed myself.”

“Ha!”Phillip scoffed. “You caused too much mischief. The world is a better place, having age and reason slow you down. We’re all grateful that you’re not young anymore.”

“When are the babies due?”

“Late summer or early fall.”

He was pensive, pondering his daughters and the children they were having.

He wasn’t a
family
man, had never aspired to being a father. It was so strange to be nearing fifty, to suddenly have offspring popping into his life.

He was perplexed by the changes and couldn’t figure out what role he should play in their lives. Most times, he didn’t think he wanted to have a role. But other times, he was delighted to be claimed by them.

If he was honest with himself, he was lonely. He owned several dozen homes, was rich as Croesus, could go anywhere and do anything. Yet he was always alone, and all those houses were so bloody empty.

“How was Jean Pierre’s wedding?”he asked.

“As peculiar as I could have predicted. Nothing with Jean Pierre is easy or normal. He’s like you that way.”

“But he married our Miss Teasdale?”

“Oh, yes. He married her. I’m not sure if he came to the altar willingly. He said he was happy to proceed, but I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that James and Tristan forced him with a pistol aimed at his back.”

“Still though, he did the right thing.”

“Unlike some other Sinclair males I could mention.”

Phillip had tried to convince Charles to ride with him to Bramble Bay for the ceremony. Charles had actually considered it, but in the end, he hadn’t gone. Oddly, he regretted it and wished Phillip had been a little more adamant.

“I was wed when I was seventeen,”Charles explained. “I could hardly have attached myself to any of my paramours.”

“Don’t remind me,”Phillip huffed. “My mother was one of your first conquests, remember?”

“I’ve always loved women—and there are so many of them. They’re all so pretty and too eager to accommodate a wealthy man like me.”

“No, you love the chase, the pursuit and the temptation. Once you succeed in getting what you’re after, you grow bored and leave.”

“I suppose you could describe it like that.”

Occasionally, he thought of those impetuous days when he’d been wild and carefree and negligent. He’d perpetrated untold misery, but he’d relished every minute of that era and wouldn’t apologize for his behavior.

Age had mellowed his worst habits. He kept mistresses now. They were experienced trollops who were paid for their services and had no reputations that could be ruined. He was more discreet and determined not to sire more children. He hadn’t in years.

“What is your opinion of Jean Pierre?”he asked. “He’s quite amazing, isn’t he?”

“He’s exactly like you, which I wouldn’t view as
amazing.”

“When you realize what he endured as a boy, he turned out remarkably well.”

“He did,”Phillip agreed. “Sarah will have her baby just before Helen and Harriet have theirs. How many grandchildren will that be for you? Seven? Eight? Two from Fanny. Two from me. One each from the twins—unless they stay true to form and bear twins themselves.”

Charles snorted with disgust. “You’re cruel to twist the knife, Phillip.”

“I simply like you to recall that you’re mortal.”

“Trust me. I always recall.”

He frequently wondered—if his father hadn’t made him wed so young, if his father had picked someone other than Susan—would Charles have been happy? Would he have tamped down his conduct?

Might he instead have married for love and had a fine life with a sweet-tempered wife? Or would he still have walked the scoundrel’s road?

He was fairly sure he’d have been an awful husband to any bride thrown into his path. He was fairly sure he’d have been a libertine no matter what.

“I have something for you.” He opened a desk drawer, pulled out a letter and slid it across. “It arrived while I was away.”

“Susan didn’t burn it?”

“You know my butler collects the mail and hides my correspondence.”

Phillip studied the handwriting on the front. “Need I ask what it’s about?”

“No.”

Phillip flicked at the seal and read the words that had been penned. “Another daughter? Named Mary?”

“It could be.”

“Do you remember the mother or the town? Can you give me a clue about her?”

“I was in York that summer. I had several dalliances.”

“Why am I not shocked to hear it?”Phillip said. “Would you like me to find her for you?”

“No, you should find her for
you
—and for Fanny and Helen and Harriet. They’ll want to be certain she’s all right.”

“Yes, they will.” Phillip downed the last of his drink and stood to go. “I’ll make some inquiries. I’ll let you know what I discover.”

“Thank you.”

“Jean Pierre and Sarah will be in London next month. Harriet is hosting a supper for them. Will you come?”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps not.”

“It wouldn’t kill you.”

Charles smiled. “It might.”

Phillip departed, and Charles remained in his seat, listening as the butler escorted Phillip down the hall, as the butler helped him with his coat. The door shut behind him, and an annoying silence settled.

He went to the window and watched Phillip mount his horse, watched him ride away. Long after he’d vanished from sight, Charles continued to stare at the spot where he’d been.

Phillip was a devoted son and a good friend. And there might be a new daughter to join them. Mary. It was a pretty name he’d always liked.

He walked to the sideboard and poured himself another brandy. He swallowed it down as he contemplated his children in their various homes around the city.

Briefly, he debated whether to have the carriage prepared so he could go visiting. He’d intentionally missed Fanny’s party, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t stop by now. He could take baby gifts for Helen and Harriet.

If Harriet opened her door and found him on her stoop, what would she think? The notion humored him immensely, but he couldn’t imagine doing it.

Sometimes, he yearned to be closer to all of them. But on further reflection, it seemed too difficult to pull it off with any aplomb. Was it worth the bother of trying? Maybe not.

He returned to his desk and sat. The shadows lengthened and the evening faded away. The house was very quiet, and he was all alone. As he’d always been. As he probably always would be.

THE END

Praise for New York Times Bestselling Author

CHERYL HOLT

“Best storyteller of the year…”

Romantic Times Magazine

“A master writer…”

Fallen Angel Reviews

“The Queen of Erotic Romance…”

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“Cheryl Holt is magnificent…”

Reader to Reader Reviews

“From cover to cover, I was spellbound. Truly outstanding…”

Romance Junkies

“A classic love story with hot, fiery passion dripping from every page. There’s nothing better than curling up with a great book and this one totally qualifies.”

Fresh Fiction

“This is a masterpiece of storytelling. A sensual delight scattered with rose petals that are divinely arousing. Oh my, yes indeedy!”

Reader to Reader Reviews

Praise for Cheryl Holt’s “Lord Trent”trilogy

“A true guilty pleasure!”

Novels Alive TV

“LOVE’S PROMISE can’t take the number one spot as my favorite by Ms. Holt—that belongs to her book NICHOLAS—but it’s currently running a close second.”

Manic Readers

“The book was brilliant…can’t wait for Book #2.”

Harlie’s Book Reviews

“I guarantee you won’t want to put this one down. Holt’s fast-paced dialogue, paired with the emotional turmoil, will keep you turning the pages all the way to the end.”

Susana’s Parlour

“…A great love story populated with many flawed characters. Highly recommend it.”

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