Why Lords Lose Their Hearts (31 page)

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Authors: Manda Collins

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Romance, #Regency, #Historical Romance

BOOK: Why Lords Lose Their Hearts
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“You don’t mind having Benedick marry us, do you?” Archer asked once their laughter had subsided.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Perdita said, kissing him. Then, in a soft voice, she whispered, “I love you, you know.”

“I know,” he whispered back. “It’s about time.” His face turned serious. “What about your fears about marrying again?”

“I realized while listening to Simmons that there was no way on earth that you were the same kind of man Gervase was. And besides that, when I only had what I believed was one last thought, it was of you.”

He kissed her. “I’m sorry it took the threat of death to change your mind,” he said wryly. “But I’ll take what I can get.”

“Don’t think like that,” she chided. “I was halfway to changing my mind before Simmons revealed herself.”

“Really?” he asked, leaning his forehead against hers.

“Really,” Perdita said, her heart full. “I think I’ve been in love with you since you kidnapped me at the very least.”

“Then,” Archer said with a grin, “I think it’s time to kidnap you again.”

“Won’t your family miss us?” Perdita asked, her brows drawn together with worry. “I wouldn’t wish to shock them.”

“The only thing that will shock them, my dear,” Archer said, kissing her, “is that it took me so long to bring you to the point.”

Perdita wrinkled her nose. “I suppose I did lead you on a merry chase, didn’t I?”

“Anything worth having is worth fighting for,” Archer said simply.

“Especially true love,” Perdita said, feeling as if she would burst with love for him.

Which was fine considering that Archer looked exactly like she felt.

“Most especially true love,” he said, raising their clasped hands to kiss the back of hers. “Now, let’s go spread the good news. When a man finally convinces the woman he loves to marry him, he wants an audience to share in his good fortune.”

“I agree,” Perdita said with a grin, “so long as we can be alone to share our good fortune with one another later.”

And much, much later, that’s exactly what they did.

 

Epilogue

Three weeks later

“Are you really saying that the dowager poisoned her own grandson?” Georgina demanded as she sat across from Perdita and Isabella in Perdita’s sitting room at Ormond House.

Much had happened since that afternoon in the Lisle drawing room. First, and most importantly, Perdita and Archer had been married by special license in the little church on the Lisle estate where Benedick did the honors. They were attended by Archer’s family, Isabella and Trevor, Georgina and Con. And, not to be pushed away, the dowager, who gave Perdita away.

Now, she and Archer were back from their brief honeymoon, and just as always Perdita, Isabella, and Georgina were sharing gossip over tea.

“I cannot believe it, either,” she said in response to Georgie’s pronouncement. “I thought Simmons must have lied to implicate her. It never occurred to me that the dowager would have poisoned her own grandson.”

“Well,” Isabella said with a grin, “this certainly makes things easier for Trevor. And for me. She can hardly continue to cast aspersions upon me while she is guilty of trying to kill her other grandson. I mean, we were defending you from bodily harm or worse.” She shuddered. “But the dowager was simply determined to murder.”

“It does make a strong argument,” Perdita agreed. “I am just relieved that we can all go on with our lives without fear of being terrorized anymore.”

“Here’s to freedom from persecution!” Georgie said, lifting her teacup. The others clinked their cups with hers, though Perdita said coolly, “I’m not sure I’ve forgiven the two of you for drugging me, you know.”

“Oh, dearest,” Georgie said with remorse, “please don’t be like that. We were doing it for your own good.”

“And,” Isabella added, “you must admit that it worked out rather well for you. I mean, you’d hardly be married to Archer if we hadn’t allowed him to kidnap you.”

“I suppose when you put it that way,” Perdita agreed grudgingly, “it’s true. But I will never again be able to take tea in your company with complete trust.”

“Oh, pfft,” Georgie said, grinning. “There is no reason for us to have you kidnapped again. We are all married to the most wonderful men in the world.”

“And we are safe,” Perdita agreed. She turned to her sister. “And Isabella is about to give birth to what I suspect will be the most spoiled infant in all of Christendom by the time we are finished with her.”

“Or him,” Isabella put in with a smile as she placed a hand on her belly.

Not so long ago, they’d all three become friends because of their similar circumstances as the wives and widows of men who treated them with little kindness and much brutality. Now, they faced the future with hope.

It was enough to make three wicked widows look upon the coming season with something like joy.

Meanwhile, in another part of London

“I still can’t believe all that’s behind us,” Archer said to his companions with a grin. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs and crossing them at the ankles. “This time six months ago, Isabella was embarking upon a journey to Yorkshire. Who knew the dowager’s demands would lead to so many life changes for the rest of us?”

“Or that my cousin’s lover would turn out to be so bloody good at manipulating people into doing her bidding,” Trevor added, swirling the brandy in his glass. “I don’t recall seeing her more than a few times while the dowager was still staying in Ormond House, but she never gave me a reason to suspect her of what happened to Isabella.”

“She was there all the time,” Con added, leaning forward on his elbows. “I think we tend to forget just how powerful servants can become over time. They know so much about our lives. When we have relations with our wives, when we fight, when we make up. And a servant like Simmons, who as the dowager’s ladies’ maid was of the highest rank in the house with the exception of the butler and the housekeeper, has the most power of all. She holds the same sway in the servants’ quarters as the dowager does in the family’s.”

“What gets me,” Trevor said, “is that she was able to infiltrate the family so easily. What’s to stop some other person with a grudge against us from slipping in through the back door like that?”

“Nothing,” said Archer wryly. “To some degree you have to trust that the people you hire are there because they need the work. And you must trust your own instincts.”

“Well, I can tell you this much,” Con said with conviction, “I won’t ever make the mistake of blindly trusting a servant again. From now on it’s going to be suspicion they’ll get from me until they can prove they aren’t hiding something.”

“It’s a shame, really,” Archer said, finishing his brandy. “Before all this we were so innocent. We trusted our servants. We believed that women and children were off limits when it came to dark plots. We thought only strange men we didn’t know beat their wives.”

He shook his head and continued. “Now there is an awareness of how ugly our world can be if you only scratch the surface a bit. It’s disillusioning, to be sure.”

“But it also makes me appreciate the good things more,” Trevor said with a smile. “The servants you do trust, time spent alone with your wife, really good friends.”

“Did you hear that, Archer?” Con said with a grin. “The duke just paid us a compliment.”

Trevor made a face. “Who said I was talking about you lot? As far as I can tell you’ve only made my life more difficult. You”—he pointed at Archer—“for leaving me in the lurch without a private secretary.” Then he scowled at Con. “And you for causing Isabella so much worry by engaging yourself to Perdita then changing your preference to Georgina.”

“That is annoying,” Archer agreed. “Especially because you knew I was head over ears for her!”

“Stuff,” Con said dismissively. “You didn’t tell me about your preference for her until after we broke it off.”

Turning to Trevor, he continued, “And as for you, I was engaged to Perdita for less time, I’m sure, than it took for you to kiss Isabella for the first time. And my affection for Georgina happened well before you even got to Bath, so I do not accept that our joining forces hindered you in the slightest.”

Archer sighed. “I suppose we’re going to have to agree to disagree.”

“Pax?” Con asked, looking from one man to the other.

“Pax,” Trevor agreed.

“Now,” Archer said standing, “let us go search out these troublesome brides of ours. For I have the most fearful notion that they are plotting against us.”

“Whenever the three are gathered,” Con confirmed, “there is always a higher possibility for mischief among us.”

“I rather enjoy the mischief,” Trevor said with a grin. “It definitely has its benefits.”

“It does, indeed,” Archer agreed, thinking of just how mischievous Perdita had been that morning. “I think we’d better hurry,” he continued. “I find myself very much in need of another dose.”

Laughing, they left the club in search of their respective wives.

*   *   *

Alone in their bed that night, having just finished what Perdita considered the sweetest lovemaking since they’d become involved, the newlyweds snuggled together. “Just think,” Archer whispered against her hair, “if you’d married Con, you would not have been gifted with my far superior lovemaking skills.”

“You must get over your obsession with Con,” she said with a sigh. “We didn’t even kiss. That is how engaged we were.

“Besides,” she continued, “I can’t think of Con that way anymore. Not while he’s married to Georgie and they’re so amazingly happy. I never thought I’d see her look as carefree as she did when they danced at our wedding.”

“It was rather a relief,” Archer said, stroking her back, “to see all three of you ladies able to enjoy yourselves without the threat of harm or some awful disturbance ruining everything.”

“It’s been a long while since any of us were able to sleep soundly or enjoy more than a half hour at a time without remembering something awful, or worse, experiencing it.”

“Which reminds me,” Archer said disentangling himself from her and climbing out of bed. While he walked, Perdita allowed herself to appreciate her husband in all his naked glory. It was a beautiful body, not least because she trusted that he’d never use it as a weapon against her.

As she watched, Archer slipped into the dressing room that adjoined their bedchambers. She heard the sound of a drawer opening and closing. Finally, a triumphant grin on his face, Archer came back clutching a jeweler’s box.

More curious than she could admit, Perdita sat up against the headboard, and waited while he slipped back into bed beside her.

“My dearest Perdita,” he said with an uncustomary serious expression, “from the moment we met I knew you were going to be important to my life. I simply didn’t know how important.” She felt her eyes well up at his words, especially since she’d felt the same way about him. “I saw this a few years ago—yes, I know, I was being extremely premature—but I had to buy it for you. Because to me, you share its strength, but also its fire. It is hard to break, but even then, it is still beautiful.”

Archer gave her the box, and carefully, as if she were handling spun glass, she opened it. And gasped. Nestled within the folds of the black velvet that lined the box she saw the most perfectly cut ruby pendant she’d ever seen. Removing it by the chain which held it, she watched in wonder as the candlelight illuminated the fiery facets of the stone which was set simply in gold. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever laid her eyes upon.

“How did you know?” she asked her husband, not daring to look away from the gem lest it disappear from her hand. “How did you know years ago that I could be as strong as this? As fiery.”

“Call it instinct,” Archer said with a shrug. “I knew from the moment we met that you were tough. I only learned how tough later. And, unfortunately, when it was too late to help you.”

“Don’t say that,” she said, turning to look him in the eyes. “You helped me in countless ways you weren’t even aware of. Just knowing you were in the house reminded me that good men did exist.”

She let him hook the chain around her neck, and though she longed to see it in the glass, she chose instead to turn around and give him the most frantic kiss she’d ever initiated. “I love you so much, Lord Archer Lisle.”

“And I love you, Mrs. Lisle,” Archer said, kissing the tip of her nose. “Do not ever doubt it.”

And Perdita knew she never would. She knew now what love was. And she would never, ever let it go.

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