Never Courted, Suddenly Wed Read online

  “Em?” Sophie pleaded.

  “Oh, yes. Forgive me.” Emmaline gave a shake of her head. “He was pounding hard enough to take the door down and Jones granted him admittance. He has the look of a madman.” Her nose wrinkled. “And he smells quite foul.”

  Sophie angled her head.

  “Horses and sweat,” Emmaline said by way of explanation. “I do believe he’s been traveling in search of you since you left. Or he has very poor hygiene. But having known Waxham through the years, he never struck me as—”

  “Em!” Sophie said with a pained laugh.

  “Oh, right. My apologies. Drake showed him to the guest chambers, and I came right here. I’ll take her.” She rushed to take a still-slumbering Regan.

  Sophie spun on her heel and began to pace the floor. Her husband had come for her. If he’d merely been driven to possess her fortune, it should not have mattered that she’d left. Yet he was here. Surely that meant something. Surely.

  “He loves you,” Mallen murmured.

  Emmaline nodded. “He has the same desperate look that Drake had when he interrupted the dinner party with Waxham.” Her skin turned several shades of red. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly.

  “It is fine,” Sophie assured her. She expected the sharp, sting of jealousy at the reminder of Christopher’s courtship of Emmaline.

  Except, if Christopher had loved Emmaline, surely he would have challenged Drake for her affections.

  Instead, he was here, fighting for Sophie.

  The door opened and both Sophie and Emmaline jumped.

  Drake’s powerfully muscular frame filled the narrow doorway. “Your husband has requested an audience with you.”

  Sophie caught her lower lips between her teeth. “I—”

  “You’re going,” Em interrupted with a frown.

  “I’m not ready,” Sophie whispered. The ache of Christopher’s betrayal was still too fresh.

  “That’s utter rubbish. You at least have to hear him out. If you do not want to leave with him afterwards, then you are free to stay. But I never took you for a coward.” Emmaline directed her attention to Drake. “Where is Lord Waxham?”

  “He asked to meet in the library.”

  “The library?” Sophie blurted. With Christopher’s recent confession about his struggle to read, she’d imagine it was quite difficult for him to be in a room that served as a reminder of his struggle.

  “Sebastian, will you show Sophie to the library.”

  The duke held out his arm.

  Sophie eyed it for several moments, and then placed her fingertips along his coat sleeve.

  “You do know he’s going to be horribly jealous when he sees you on my arm,” he said, as they made their way through the halls.

  She pointed her eyes to the ceiling. “Then you do not know Christopher as well as you believe.”

  He snorted. “You’re wrong.”

  “It’s impolite to tell a lady she is wrong.”

  “Is it?”

  “Oh, I’m certain of it,” she said with a nod.

  The duke stole a sideways glance at her. “Will you forgive him?”

  “It’s also impolite to ask a lady such personal questions.”

  He chuckled “I’m allowed certain liberties as a duke. We’re here,” he said, before she could respond.

  Mallen held the door open.

  Christopher spun around, his eyes riveted to the place where Sophie’s fingers touched the duke’s arm. Her heart hammered at the realization that the duke had in fact been right. Christopher’s eyes radiated the fiery intensity of a man ready to storm the room and separate the duke’s hand from his person.

  He seemed to remember himself, for he gave his head a shake. “Phi.” He bowed slightly.

  She angled her head. Did he expect her to curtsy as though this was a normal social call? “Christopher.”

  The door closing behind the duke as he took of his leave, dimly registered.

  She and Christopher stared at each other a long while. His normally clean shaven cheeks reflected several days’ worth of beard. The thick, black strands of his hair pulled back were still damp, as though he’d just bathed. Considering what Emmaline had revealed, she suspected that to be the case.

  He rocked on his heels. “I had hoped to come to you, Phi, with all the right words, words that would convince you to believe me and my love for you,” he said without preamble. “But words have always posed a problem for me, and so I come to you, humbled.” He took a step toward her. “I can tell you that until you walked out of my life, I’d never realized just how much I love you. How wholly you complete me. I can tell you that for two days since you left, I’ve tried to determine what I love most about you; your bold spirit.” He took another step closer. “Your brilliant sense of humor. Your love for that troublesome dog.”

  Tears flooded Sophie’s eyes, and Christopher blurred before her.

  “I loved you from the moment I met you. Do you remember when that was?”

  “I was just a baby,” she whispered.

  His lips twisted into a small smile. “You have me there. I referred to my recent courtship.”

  “Well, that makes more sense,” she said softly. “When?”

  “The night you pilfered my brandy, you stole my heart.”

  She blinked, the wheels of her mind turning with infinite slowness. “I don’t drink brandy.”

  Christopher walked over to the mahogany side table, and picked up two books. He handed one over to her.

  Sophie took it. Delphine. Her heartbeat picked up its rhythm. Her gaze flew to his.

  Wordlessly, he turned over a copy of Intrigue and Love.

  “Impossible,” she whispered. She read the titles again.

  “I lied from the moment I met you. You, my beautiful Athena, deserve someone who possesses your intelligence and love of reading. I loathe books, Phi. They remind me of all that is wrong with me. I’ve never read Intrigue and Love. I merely grabbed the nearest book. I’ve told you too many lies, but I’ve never lied about my love for you.”

  Sophie clutched the books close to her chest. Her heart had realized what her eyes had not. “It was you,” she breathed.

  “It was you,” he said. “I’ve known you your entire life, and yet, I couldn’t see that which was before me. How blind I’ve been. I’m here now, asking you to accept me as I am, with all my flaws and all my failings. I…”

  The books tumbled from Sophie’s hands, and she hurled herself into Christopher’s arms. “Stop. Do not disparage yourself. Not on my account. Not on anyone’s account.” God, if his father was before them now, Sophie would have planted him a facer for the emotional scars he’d left upon his son.

  He folded her in his arms. “I wronged you, Phi. You could have found any number of gentlemen more deserving than me—.”

  “I don’t want any other gentleman,” she interrupted.

  “Not even Mallen?”

  She clasped his face between her hands. “I love you.”

  “You didn’t answer.”

  “Not even Mallen,” she said with a giggle.

  He lowered his head so their lips were a mere breath apart. “Are you disappointed that I’m your Odysseus?”

  “I’m only disappointed that you didn’t court me sooner.” She reached up on tiptoe and kissed him in the faintest meeting of lips. Sophie pulled back. “I love you,” she said again.

  Christopher reached inside the front of his jacket. “I have something for you.” He pulled out an envelope and handed it to her.

  “What is it?” she asked, accepting it from him.

  “Open it.” He nodded to the envelope.

  Sophie slid the tip of her nail under the seal and withdrew several sheets of paper and a copy of Lady Ackerly’s Tattle Sheet. Her brow wrinkled as she skimmed the page.

  She turned to the next. “Lady Ackerly is actually George Lamb? As in Emily Lamb, Lady Cowper’s brother?” One of Almack’s leading hostesses, Lady Cowper had e
arned a reputation for her kindness and magnanimous spirit. Her eyes shot to his.

  “I paid a visit to the Lady Ackerly’s publisher on Fleet Street. It didn’t take much for me to ascertain Lady Ackerly’s identity.”

  George Lamb, the playwright and journalist had been the source of her misery these three years. “Humph.” Sophie pursed her lips.

  “That is what Lady Cowper said.”

  Sophie’s mouth fell agape.

  Christopher nodded. “Prior to coming for you, I paid a visit to Lady Cowper. Needless to say, she was displeased with the trouble her brother has caused you.”

  “She was?” It really should come as no surprise, considering Lady Cowper’s notoriety as a kind, and benevolent woman. She was, after all, the same woman who’d lifted the ban at Almack’s on her scandalous sister-in-law, Lady Caro Lamb, even after Lady Caro had written the shocking work Glenarvon that included thinly veiled references to some of the tons leading members.

  Christopher continued, interrupting her musings. “Lady Cowper was quite apologetic about the whole affair. She wanted me to convey my sincerest regrets and the assurance that her brother will no longer contribute to Lady Ackerly’s Tattle Sheet.”

  A laugh worked its way up her throat, and spilled from her lips. “Surely you jest.”

  “Oh, no. Not at all. She did, however, agree to have her brother publish a final piece.”

  “Final piece?” she asked, her tone leery to her own ears.

  Christopher removed the papers from her hands, and set them down. Then, he raised her knuckles to his lips, placing a gentle, lingering kiss upon them. “I would have arrived sooner if I’d not spent several hours with Lady Cowper. She transcribed the final column.”

  He reached into his jacket and withdrew another parchment—a copy of Lady Ackerly’s Tattle Sheet.

  The Earl of W has fallen hopelessly and helplessly in love with his stunningly beautiful, musically gifted, outrageously witty wife, Lady W. It is his fondest wish that he can someday find himself worthy of her love.

  A single tear streaked down her cheek. Then another. And another. Falling in a slow, waterfall upon the words until the black ink had smudged. She dashed a hand across her cheeks. “I’ve ruined it,” she managed between little gasps of air.

  He winked. “There will be many other copies. It goes to publication tomorrow.”

  “Oh, Christopher, you don’t have to do this.” His social image had always mattered a great deal to him. That he would willingly humble himself on her account filled her with a growing warmth. “I know you love me. Truly.”

  His smile grew, displaying the even row of pearl- white teeth. “Good, Phi. But I’m still having it printed.”

  “You silly, silly man.” She reached up and placed another kiss upon his lips.

  “Should we have Lady Ackerly’s Tattle Sheet print that? Lord W, a silly, silly…”

  “Christopher?”

  “Yes, Phi?”

  “Be quiet, and kiss me.”

  “As you wish.”

  And he proceeded to do just that.

  Epilogue

  Christopher stroked the top of Duke’s slumbering head. The pug let out a loud snore, his flat nose sprayed Christopher with bits of moisture. “You really are foul. Don’t tell your mistress I said as much.” The dog continued sleeping. “Not all the time,” Christopher amended. “There are times you are quite nice. I shan’t admit it to anyone. Not even your mistress.”

  “Christopher, are you talking to Duke?”

  His hand froze mid-motion. His gaze flew to the entrance of the room.

  Sophie stood framed in the doorway, a grin playing about her luscious red lips.

  “Uh, no. Not at all. I was just…”He sighed. “Talking to Duke.”

  She made an X across her heart. “Your secret shall not leave this room.”

  His eyes fell to the newspaper in her hands. “What do you have there, sweet Phi?”

  “This?” she said, breezily. “Oh, it is just a copy of Lady Ackerly’s Tattle Sheet.”

  His brows narrowed. By God, Lady Cowper had insisted her brother would cease dragging Sophie’s name through the paper. She’d given him her word as a lady.

  “Might I read you the latest piece?”

  A growl worked its way up his throat. He stood with such speed, Duke nearly tumbled to the floor. Christopher caught the pup, and set him down on the leather chair they’d occupied. Duke nestled into the folds of the winged-chair and fell promptly back to sleep. “What has he printed now?”

  Sophie opened the page. She smoothed a finger over it.

  “Lady W has fallen hopelessly and helplessly in love with Lord W, her magnificently handsome, intensely loyal, exceedingly clever husband. He has always been worthy of her love.”

  He crossed the room to take her in his arms but she danced out of his reach. “I thought it would be far too scandalous to print that which I truly wished to write.”

  He chuckled and this time swept her into his arms. “What is that?” he murmured. His lips found the sensitive place where her neck met her ear.

  “Mmm, you do know it is hard for me to think when you do that?”

  His mouth momentarily hovered above her flesh. “I do.” Christopher proceeded to kiss her.

  “Aren’t you just the bit curious as to what I wanted to print?” she whispered, angling her head to allow him better access.

  “Somewhat.”

  A breathy little moan escaped her. “I never would print it. I was merely trying to shock you.”

  “Were you?” he moved his attention to the corner of her lips.

  “I…I can’t talk. When. You’re. Kissing. Me,” she said between his kisses.

  “That is the idea, Phi.”

  “I really thought you’d like to know.”

  Christopher rested his brow against hers. The sooner his wife said her piece, the sooner he could resume making love to her. “What is it you thought I’d like to know?”

  “I’m in the family way.”

  Christopher blinked. His heart froze, suspended in his chest, and then picked up a fast, steady beat. “Phi?” he whispered. Since he’d wed Sophie, he’d often considered what it would be to have young, precocious daughters with her golden tresses and cornflower eyes, who had a special love for troublesome pugs.

  Worry creased her brow. “I thought you might be happy with the news. Was I…?”

  Her words ended on a breathy laugh when he swept her into his arms, and twirled her in a circle. Duke, alerted to the merriment around him, leapt from his seat and bounded over to them. He nipped at Christopher’s boots.

  Christopher stopped abruptly, and set Sophie down. “Christ. I’m sorry. Have I hurt you?” He ran his hands along her arms, inspecting her for injury.

  Sophie pointed her eyes to the ceiling. “I’m not injured, Christopher. I’m merely expecting.”

  Duke barked.

  Christopher bent down and scooped him up. “Do you hear that, boy? You’re going to have a sister.”

  “I imagined you would desire an heir.”

  He trailed his gaze along every precious line of her face, remembering back many, many years ago, to the time he’d been a small boy and she a mere babe. “It doesn’t matter whether it is a boy or girl,” he said. “All that matters is that the child is a piece of you. He or she will have your indomitable spirit. Your kind heart.”

  “Hopefully not my penchant for trouble,” she said, wryly.

  Christopher imagined a house with a gaggle of children running after a litter of fawn-colored pups and grinned.

  He couldn’t imagine anything he’d love more.

  The End

  Biography

  Christi Caldwell blames Judith McNaught's "Whitney, My Love!" for luring her into the world of historical romance. While sitting in her graduate school apartment at the University of Connecticut, Christi decided to set aside her notes and pick up her laptop to try her hand at romance. She believes the most
perfect heroes and heroines have imperfections, and she rather enjoys torturing them before crafting them a well-deserved happily ever after!

  Christi makes her home in southern Connecticut where she spends her time writing her own enchanting historical romances and being a full-time wife and mother!

  Visit www.christicaldwellauthor.com to learn more about what Christi is working on, or join her on Facebook at Christi Caldwell Author.

  Other Books by Christi Caldwell

  Winning a Lady’s Heart (A Danby novella)

  Author's Note: This is a novella that was originally available in A Summons From The Castle (The Regency Christmas Summons Collection). It is being published as an individual novella.

  For Lady Alexandra, being the source of a cold, calculated wager is bad enough...but when it is waged by Nathaniel Michael Winters, 5th Earl of Pembroke, the man she's in love with, it results in a broken heart, the scandal of the season, and a summons from her grandfather--the Duke of Danby.

  To escape Society's gossip, she hurries to her meeting with the duke, determined to put memories of the earl far behind. Except the duke has other plans for Alexandra...plans which include the 5th Earl of Pembroke!

  A Season of Hope (A Danby novella)

  Five years ago when her love, Marcus Wheatley, failed to return from fighting Napoleon’s forces, Lady Olivia Foster buried her heart. Unable to betray Marcus’s memory, Olivia has gone out of her way to run off prospective suitors. At three and twenty she considers herself firmly on the shelf. Her father, however, disagrees and accepts an offer for Olivia’s hand in marriage. Yet it’s Christmas, when anything can happen…

  Olivia receives a well-timed summons from her grandfather, the Duke of Danby, and eagerly embraces the reprieve from her betrothal.

  Only, when Olivia arrives at Danby Castle she realizes the Christmas season represents hope, second chances, and even miracles.

  Forever Betrothed, Never the Bride

  Hopeless romantic Lady Emmaline Fitzhugh is tired of sitting with the wallflowers, waiting for her betrothed to come to his senses and marry her. When Emmaline reads one too many reports of his scandalous liaisons in the gossip rags, she takes matters into her own hands.