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Authors: Rebecca Connolly

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BOOK: An Arrangement of Sorts
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Moira was having trouble catching her breath at the sight of Nathan, and not just because he was perspiring in a maddeningly attractive way or because his hair was slightly mused or because his cravat and waistcoat and jacket were off and his sleeves rolled, which was suddenly her favorite way to see him. No, the real trouble was nothing more or less than the fact that he was there. Just him.

Her heart thudded quite precariously in her chest and she fought for the strength to even swallow. Now that she was here before him, her mind utterly fled at any and all attempt at conversation. Her strongest instinct was to fly at him, just as he was, and have him hold her close until her heart and breath returned to their normal functions. But his eyes, so dark and intense, held her back. In them she saw pain, confusion, need, anger… and yet, amidst all of that, passion was still there.

It was prudent to wait for a bit, she decided. After all, she did have some questions she needed answered before she lost her mind to him entirely, and she did have a reputation of wit to uphold.

A slender man nearby suddenly broke from his frozen state of bewilderment and turned to the other men behind him. “All right, you hens, get back to the coop with you. Focus on egg laying or weaving a basket out of straw, or something. There is nothing to see here.” He quickly gestured them all off, looking back at her and Nathan so many times she thought he would be dizzy. But he and three others walked a good distance up the hill back to Beverton House, though they obviously would rather have stayed to witness whatever was going to happen.

“Colin?” she asked with a tilt of her head towards them, knowing that had to be the leader.

“Who else?” Nathan replied without much emotion.

What a dreadful beginning this was. “So,” she began, folding her arms. “You are a rich earl.”

“I am.”

She pressed her lips into a thin line, eyes narrowing slightly. “Is there anything else you didn’t tell me?”

“No,” he said with a brief shake of his head. “Everything else was the truth, I swear.”

“There is nothing else?”

“No,” he repeated. Then he winced a touch. “Well… Derek is a marquess.”

“Ah,” she said with a nod, glancing back up the hill where the men had disappeared. “That does explain a lot.”

She turned back and saw Nathan was about to return to chopping wood. “Where is your husband?” he asked with no small amount of derision as he set a log on the block.

“That is an excellent question,” she said with an approving nod, wanting to break out into a grin at his blatant envy and bitterness.

“Is it?” His voice held absolutely no interest as he swung the axe down again, splitting the wood cleanly and kicking the pieces aside.

“Yes, it is,” Moira replied, knowing he would absolutely hate what she was about to do, but determined to do it anyway. “You see, after the wedding in which Charles married the woman he loved, a carriage arrived, and the driver informed me that he had been paid to take me and my husband wherever we want to go. It was quite startling, to be sure, considering the fact that the only person that had recently obtained a husband that I knew was Maggie, who is now Mrs. Allenford, and I didn’t have a husband at all.”

Nathan froze in his preparation to cut another piece of wood, but didn’t look at her.

“And so I told the driver that I appreciated the offer,” she continued, as if nothing had happened, “but as I did not have a husband, it would not be possible for him to take me and my husband wherever we wished to go. On account of my not having a husband, do you see?”

Nathan straightened slowly, looking at her now, his expression carefully composed, though his eyes were rampant with curiosity.

“But then I thought,” she went on, “perhaps it would be possible to get a husband, since I did not have one, and so I asked the driver if he would mind taking just me for a little side trip, to see if I could get a husband. Since I do not have one. He was so good, he agreed, and brought me here, and said he would be happy to wait for however long it took for me to get a husband. Since I do not have one.” She very carefully emphasized the last words, and at last allowed a smile to begin to form on her lips.

Nathan’s chest heaved with his now rapid breaths, and she knew that if she didn’t finish quickly, she never would be able to.

“So I will ask you again, Nathaniel Hammond
; i
s there anything else you did not tell me?”

“Yes,” he rasped, dropping the axe to the ground and starting slowly towards her. “I love you.”

She swallowed back a sudden wash of tears and released a small laugh of relief as she smiled fully at him. “Then will you marry me, Lord Beverton? Because I love you quite madly. And I have come all this way in that blasted carriage just so I could tell you


He cut her off instantly with a hard kiss, taking her face in his hands. “Yes,” he whispered, stroking her cheek, and kissing her again. “Yes.”

She laughed and threw her arms around him, kissing him back with everything she had in her, with all of the love, hurt, and longing she had held in her heart for so long. Then she pushed back and looked up at him seriously. “You don’t mind that I asked you? It’s not very ladylike, I know, but


“I don’t mind,” he chuckled with a shake of his head, stroking her cheek once more. “I don’t mind at all. Now will you do me a favor, Moira?”

“Of course, Nathan. Anything you wish.”

“Stop talking. I want to kiss you.”

She rolled her eyes. “So demanding.”

“Get used to it,” he murmured as he kissed her.

She hummed with delight at his kiss, and found herself gripping at his shirt and pulling him closer. Then, while she could still remember she wanted to, she punched him in the arm.

“Ack! What was that for?” he yelped in indignation.

“You lied to me!” she cried, wishing she felt more furious than she actually did, and knowing she probably ought to.

“I did no such thing,” he said very patiently. “I merely withheld certain information.”

“Semantics!”

“Moira…”

“Don’t ‘Moira’ me!” she protested, shoving at his rather strong chest. “Have you any idea how tormented I’ve been?”

“A little, yes,” he said quickly, taking her face in his hands once more and forcing her to look at him. “Moira, I will gladly pay penance the rest of my life to you for not being entirely truthful, but please, for the love of all that is good and holy, don’t make me do so now.”

He pressed his lips to hers once more, managing to silence her rather pleasantly. His fingers dug into her hair, sending it tumbling down her back. Moira felt herself falling just as freely into him, and her growing desire brought forth a moan from the back of her throat.
 
Before she would be entirely insensible, she broke away, determined to have the last word, even as her hands gripped the back of Nathan’s shirt.

“Don’t think that you can forever get out of trouble by kissing me, Nathan. It won’t work.” She was quite certain her words would have more force if they were not quite so breathless, but that couldn’t be helped at this moment.

“Oh, I know it will not work all of the time,” he said as he brushed his lips along her jaw. “But I think I can say with some confidence that it will work most of the time.”

He kissed her again, and it occurred to her that he was probably right, but she would never tell him so. It was only a moment more of being so deliciously assaulted by him that she knew for a fact he absolutely was right. She didn’t interrupt any further as she reveled in being in his arms, of being here with him, of being home.

“Praise the Lord, there’s going to be a wedding!” a rather boisterous voice crowed from somewhere in the distance.

Nathan groaned and broke from Moira’s lips, resting his forehead against hers. “I think I need to shoot Colin, my love.”

“Oh, don’t do that,” she scolded, toying with the hair at the nap
e
of his neck. “Poor
, d
ead Colin would make a terrible mess of things.”

“It might be worth it.” He glanced over, and then shut his eyes quickly again. “They’re coming down here, you know.”

“Excellent,” she said brightly. “I have long wanted to meet them.”

 
“You will have to be strong, Moira.”

She gave him an odd look. “When have I been anything but? You don’t think I can be run off by your friends when I have handled you so triumphantly, do you?”

He kissed her quite thoroughly, then pulled back, grinning at the dazed expression on her face. He released her, but kept a firm hold on one hand. “No, I don’t. That’s what worries me. I’m more concerned for them than I am for you.”

She grinned rather proudly. “You do know me well, don’t you?”

He nodded. “That I do, and I love you all the more for it.”

She winked rather boldly at him, which sent a delightfully visible thrill coursing throughout his frame. “I love you, too, Nathan, and every day with you is all I will ever need again.”

She would like to have him kiss her again, and spend quite a long time doing it, too, but his friends were upon them, so she had to settle for him tightly squeezing her hand, with the barest hint of his thumb rubbing against her in a promise of later.

And the further promise of forever.
    

E
pilogue

 

“A
nd another thing. There will be no quarrelling about who is the Queen’s favorite. The Queen loves all of her subjects equally, and that is all she will say on the matter.”

The loyal subjects said nothing under the power of the Queen’s piercing blue eyes, which was to be expected, as they were dolls.

The Queen nodded firmly in approval at their reactions, her dark tresses bouncing as she did so. “That will be all. Now, the Queen would like to have some tea and cake, but only three of you may accompany her. Which of you shall attend?”

Without waiting for volunteers, she picked up the nearest three and walked over to the desk nearby. She carefully sat all three facing the great chair behind it, then climbed up into the chair herself. Once situated, she nodded again. “Thank you for coming to tea. The Queen will take her tea on her throne, because the Queen can do whatever she wants.”

A sudden war cry of sorts was heard, and a dark haired urchin flew into the room through the open doors to the terrace. “Long live King Richard!” he roared, aiming his bow and arrow at the Queen, who shrieked in horror.

“Robbie!” She stood in her throne and put her hands on her hips. “Do you mind? I am
trying
to have tea with my royal subjects!”

“Robin of the Hood does not answer to any Queen!” he cried, still aiming his arrow at her. “Swear loyalty to King Richard, or be struck with my dastardly arrow!”

“Don’t be stupid, Robert,” she sniffed, climbing off of the chair and adjusting her crown. “The Queen is
married
to King Richard.”

“Is not!” he cried, dropping his bow and arrow, his face indignant. “King Richard would
never
marry my sister!”

“I am
not
your sister,” she said with a stomp of her foot. “I am the Queen Lizzie.”

“Well, then, Queen Lizzie,” he sneered, his dark eyes rolling dramatically, “give me all your gold so I can rob you and give it to the poor.”

The Queen huffed in frustration. “But I don’t
have
…”

Whatever she had been about to say died in her throat as a terrible roaring came from just outside the room, and the two froze, turning towards the closed door to the rest of the house with identically horror-struck expressions. With a crash, the door burst open and a ferocious growling filled the room, and suddenly the Queen was swooped up into the clutches of a vicious beast.

“Papa-monster!” the creature roared, maintaining quite the grip on the flailing queen.

“Robin Hood! Save me,” she squealed, trying to beat the monster back.

“I’m coming, Your Majesty!” he hollered, pulling out his bow once again.

Arrow after arrow shot rapidly from the mighty outlaw, and pierced the thick hide of the creature, who groaned and moaned in agony, as he sank slowly to the ground. Sensing her rescue was nigh at hand, the Queen shimmied herself loose from its hold, and together, she and Robin of the Hood beat upon it with their fists and arrows until the creature thumped the floor once more, silent and still at last.

BOOK: An Arrangement of Sorts
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