The Earl Takes All (28 page)

“Marsden knows people, in our situation, who went to Switzerland to marry. Why would Albert tell me to take you there unless he knew I would want to marry you?”

“Perhaps he simply wanted you to watch out for me, and he thought it would be easier if we were married. He trusted you, Edward, and he hadn't left a will.”

“Maybe.”

“But you don't think so.”

He shook his head. “I think he knew. I think he always knew. He was always encouraging me to spend more time with him, with you. I think he was aware of what it was costing me to keep my distance. Costing him, me, maybe even you. He understood that my love for him would ensure that I never did anything untoward where you were concerned. He was trying to give me permission to be more myself.”

Possibly. She remembered the final entry in his journal, how she'd read silently instead of sharing it with Edward. “In his journal, he wrote that he had yet to write his will because he'd been struggling with whom to name as guardian of his child. During your time together in Africa, he came to the conclusion there was no one better than you to care for those he loved.”

“I have to admit, Julia, that while we've been together, I have not been clear of conscience. A small part of me nagged that I was betraying my brother.”

“I must be honest that I've not been completely clear of conscience either,” she said. “Perhaps that's the reason London was able to open my eyes so clearly to the myriad ways that what we were doing was wrong.”

“But if I am judging Albert's words correctly, he would approve of our being together.” Taking her hand, he dropped to one knee. “So will you, Julia Alcott, honor me by becoming my wife? Our marriage will be legal. Our children legitimate.”

As tears burned her eyes, she covered her mouth with the hand he wasn't holding.

“Not everyone will approve,” he continued. “There may yet be some scandal, some gossip—­”

“I don't care. Yes, I will marry you. I love you, Edward. I have been so miserable thinking of you leaving me behind at Evermore.”

“I promised not to leave you.” Standing, he pulled her nearer, cupped her face. “I love you, Julia. I believe I have since that night I kissed you in the garden.”

His mouth was on hers before she took her next breath, his arms closing around her as though he would never let her go. She didn't want him to let her go, didn't want to let go of him. Ever.

They would live at Evermore together. They would have children together. They would be happy together. Maybe he was right. Maybe Albert had known. Maybe he did approve. All that mattered was that he and Marsden had given them a way to be together.

When Edward pulled back, his eyes contained no more sadness, no more sorrow.

“When do you want to get married?” he asked.

“As soon as possible.”

Taking her hand, he began leading her back toward the house. “I'll start making the arrangements as soon as we return to Evermore.”

“You must know, Edward, that I am marrying you because I love you.”

He smiled down on her. “I don't doubt that in the least.”

“Good, because I'm also with child.”

That stopped him in his tracks. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I'd only figured it out the afternoon that you made your announcement in the House of Lords. There was nothing to be done at that point except to make you worry.”

He dragged her into his arms. “Christ, Julia.”

“I would have kept her. I would have loved her. I would have done everything in my power to protect her.”

He leaned away from her, arched a brow. “Her?”

“We're going to have a daughter. I feel it in my bones.”

Laughing, he picked her up and swung her around in a circle.

“Edward!”

Finally he put her down, but he was still smiling brightly. “I'm going to make a huge wager in the betting book at White's that we're having a son.”

“But I've told you. It's a girl. A woman knows these things.”

S
even
and a half months later, Edward Albert Alcott, heir apparent to the earldom of Greyling, made his entrance into the world.

Epilogue

London

Some Years Later

E
dward
stood in the hallway, right knee bent, foot flat to the wall, waiting. He'd been waiting all morning. No, in truth, he'd been waiting for a good many years, anticipating and dreading this moment.

His marriage to Julia had been the source of immeasurable gossip. His son and heir, Edward Albert, making his debut into the world only a few months after the wedding of his parents took place, had been cause for further gossip and speculation. But it didn't take long for his love for Julia and hers for him to cause even the most righteous and upstanding among the nobility to admit that perhaps they were a bit hasty with their censure.

After all, how could a love as pure, unselfish, and grand as theirs be denied?

Slowly, they'd been welcomed back into the ranks of the elite. It was, however, years before they admitted that the beloved children's author and illustrator—­J. E. Alcott—­was not a distant cousin to Louisa May, as was often hinted, but was in fact the pseudonym for the Countess and Earl of Greyling. What he liked best about the stories was that he always felt as though he and his brother, along with Ashe and Locke, had been immortalized and would carry on with their adventures long after they each drew their final breath. Greymane was a favorite among the children, who often named their hobbyhorses after him. Edward liked that best of all: that his brother was still loved by so many.

Beside him, Edward Albert sighed, shifted his stance and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

“I know you're anxious to be off, but Kilimanjaro isn't going anywhere.”

His son, nearly his spitting image, smiled. “I daresay you want to go with us.”

Ashe and Locke's sons were part of the group headed out on the morrow. Edward chuckled. “I'm too old to be scaling mountains. Besides, someone has to stay here and keep your mother from worrying.”

“She's going to worry anyway, but not as much as she would if Allie were traveling alongside us. She was keen to go, too, you know.”

“She'll be busy with her own adventures.” If there was one thing true of Allie, it was that she dearly loved going on adventures.

“We'll be home for Christmas.”

“See that you are.” He wasn't going to admit to his own worry, but then he worried every time one of his children left the house. He wondered if he and Albert might not have seen as much of the world as they had if their parents hadn't been killed. He did know that their lives would have been different—­not better or worse, simply different. Still, he and Julia had never wanted to hold their own children back. They'd come by their adventuresome spirits naturally.

The door to the bedchamber opened, and he shoved himself away from the wall as Julia stepped out. After all these years, his heart still kicked up a notch at the sight of her. She was dressed in pale lavender, her hair peppered with white that only made her all the more beautiful.

She walked up to him, touched her fingers to his cheek. “I'm going to weep a thousand tears today.”

“I'm carrying extra handkerchiefs.”

Her lips lifted into a soft smile. “Always looking out for me.”

“One of my greatest joys.”

“Honestly, if you keep this up,” their son said, “people are going to think it's the two of you getting married today.”

“If you're lucky, one day you'll have a love as grand as ours,” Edward told him.

“Not for a while yet.”

“When you least expect it,” Edward said quietly, holding Julia's gaze, looking into the blue eyes that continued to enthrall him. “Where you least expect it.”

“That's certainly true of Allie,” Edward Albert said. “Never thought she'd marry.”

“She loves him,” Julia said. “And he loves her.”

“Still, it's a surprise.”

Not to those who knew love.

“She'll be out shortly,” Julia said. “She just needed another minute.”

“I'll be waiting,” Edward said. “Son, escort your mother down to the carriage and on to the church. We'll follow shortly.” He and Allie were going to arrive in a white open carriage drawn by six white horses, the lead horse possessed of a gray mane.

He watched as mother and son, arm in arm, descended the stairs. All in all they'd had a good life. His work in the House of Lords had gained him respect among his peers. He expected the church would be packed to the rafters with those who wanted it known that they were friends of the Earl and Countess of Greyling.

The door opened once more and another beauty stepped out. She wore a gown of white silk and lace, and he thought she'd never looked lovelier.

She smiled serenely. “Hello, Poppy.”

“Papa” was reserved for Albert. Allie was seven when she announced that Uncle Edward wasn't the correct name for him. “You're more than my uncle. You're my papa, too. I'm going to call you Poppy because it's a bit like Papa but isn't. It's special.”

“Hello, my darling girl,” he said now. “Aren't you a beauty?”

“I'd wager you say that to all the ladies,” she said sassily.

He grinned. “Only to you and your mother. I have a little something for you.” Reaching inside his jacket, he removed a leather box.

She took it from him, opened the lid to reveal a gold locket on a gold chain. “Oh, Poppy, it's lovely.”

“Inside, protected behind glass, are locks of your father's hair.” He didn't know why he'd had the presence of mind to cut off a few of Albert's locks, but he was grateful that he had. “I thought you might like to wear it today so you're reminded that he is always with you.”

Turning, she presented her back, held up the locket. Moving her flowing veil aside, he secured the necklace. Spinning back around, she rose up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “I never knew him, and yet I love him. You made sure of that. Because you did, I love you. It's not every girl who is blessed enough to have two wonderful fathers.”

“It's not every uncle who is blessed enough to have a niece who is also loved as a daughter.”

“And now you will give me away.”

“Never. I'll place you in his keeping, but make no mistake, you are still ours.”

“I love you so much, Poppy.”

“No more than I love you. Now we'd best be off,” he said, threading her arm around his. “The Earl of Greyling is never late.”

One of Albert's habits that he'd never gotten around to changing.

He and Allie carried on down the stairs. A footman opened the door. As they stepped outside, Edward was nearly blinded by the brightness of the sun. As he put up his hand to shield his eyes, he could have sworn he heard a whispered,
Well done, brother, well done
.

“Poppy, are you all right?”

Lowering his hand, he realized the glaring light had faded. No doubt merely the angle that had caught his eyes. “I'm fine. Let's go.”

He helped her up into the carriage and then sat beside her. As the driver set the horses into motion, he looked up at the blue sky. What a glorious day.

“You know, Poppy, I've been thinking, no doubt because I'm madly in love myself, but I think in your next story, Stinker the Weasel needs to find a love.”

“He did, sweetheart,” Edward said, smiling. “He did.”

Author's Note

My dear readers,

When I originally envisioned Edward's story, I knew it would be a challenge. First, I had to ensure that readers didn't fall in love with Albert before I did him in, and I didn't want him to be a nasty sort of fellow. I also knew that British law at the time prohibited a man from marrying his brother's widow.

But I also couldn't envision that the imagination of a romance writer was the only place where a man might want to marry his brother's wife. So I began doing some research. It was fascinating. I found an instance where a woman was imprisoned for marrying her deceased sister's husband. Not sure why the man got off scot-­free, but there you are. I discovered some people married in parishes where they weren't known and didn't reveal how they were related, meaning they had the documents to show they were married but in truth they weren't legally wed. It took only someone objecting in order to void the marriage. And I discovered that the well-­to-­do would travel to and marry in Switzerland or Norway, where the laws were more lenient regarding whom one could marry, but it was costly, so those who could take advantage of this opportunity were few.

For sixty-­five years members of Parliament battled to change the law. Finally, in 1907, the Deceased Wife's Sister's Marriage Bill was passed to allow the sister of a deceased woman to marry her brother-­in-­law. But it wasn't until 1921 that the Deceased Brother's Widow's Marriage Bill allowed a man to marry his deceased brother's widow. I like to think that Edward and Julia were still around and saw that law take effect.

To be quite honest, I'm not sure if their son would have been allowed to inherit, since they skirted the boundaries of the law by marrying elsewhere, but I write fiction, so I hope you'll indulge me in my belief that he would have become the next Earl of Greyling. Regardless, Edward and Julia wished only for their children to be granted healthy, long, and happy lives. In that regard, I assure you that their wishes were realized.

Happy reading,

Lorraine

About the Author

LORRAINE HEATH always dreamed of being a writer. After graduating from the University of Texas, she wrote training manuals, press releases, articles, and computer code, but something was always missing. When she read a romance novel, she not only became hooked on the genre, but quickly realized what her writing lacked: rebels, scoundrels, and rogues. She's been writing about them ever since. Her work has been recognized with numerous industry awards, including RWA's prestigious RITA®. Her novels have appeared on the
USA Today
and
New York Times
bestseller lists.

www.lorraineheath.com

www.avonromance.com

www.facebook.com/avonromance

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