Fenella Miller (12 page)

Her cheeks were wet; she was becoming a veritable watering pot lately. Would it have been better if she'd never met him? Her heart would have remained whole and she would be able to relish this reconciliation with her parent, count her blessings instead of sitting here feeling that she would never be truly happy again.

The sound of boots thudding towards her jerked her out of her reverie. She jumped to her feet, her heart pounding, her mouth dry. She was sure she recognized those footsteps. From around the side of the house her beloved appeared. It didn't matter he was several days late, he was here.

She picked up her skirts and raced towards him. "Rupert, I have been so worried, I thought you have changed your mind."

He opened his arms and she fell into them. He crushed her close and she tilted her face to receive his kiss. His mouth was salty, his face sweat streaked, it made no difference to the sweetness of his lips on hers. After a blissful interlude he set her down, but kept his arm around her waist.

"My darling, I thought you had abandoned me. Poor old Foster died the day I returned and never passed on your letter. I only discovered it by chance. I have been in an agony of despair without you."

She rested her cheek against his chest and breathed deeply. Laughing, she reeled back. "My love, I am overjoyed to see you, however do you think you could change your raiment before we continue this…err…discussion?"

"I beg your pardon, sweetheart, I have ridden pell-mell to be with you. Unfortunately I have no fresh clothes to change into until William arrives, he should not be too long behind me."

"In which case, I shall conduct you to the apartment that has been waiting these past four days, and at least you can wash the journey from your person."

What the staff thought of his sudden arrival she had no idea, but they rallied round and soon he was upstairs and a bath sent up to him. Suddenly her appetite returned. She was sure he must be ravenous having ridden all the way from Hertfordshire to Essex. She pulled the bell-strap in the drawing-room. When a parlour maid appeared she gave her instructions.

"Mr Bucknall has just arrived, we should both like supper served on the terrace. Ask Cook to send cold cuts, pickles and chutney, some of that delicious cheese and plenty of bread and butter." She frowned she thought what else they might like for their celebration meal. "Yes, also send some of the fruit pie we had at luncheon."

"Shall I ask Mr Thomas to send wine as well, madam?"

"Yes, and fresh lemonade if there is any. Do you know if Mr Bucknall's valet has arrived?"

The girl curtsied. "He arrived as you rang, madam."

Emma returned to the terrace to await the arrival of the man she loved to distraction and their supper. The food was arranged on the damask covered table, candelabra lit and casting a romantic glow over the silver cutlery when Rupert returned.

"Thank the good Lord, I am half dead with hunger, my darling. I had not eaten properly for days. I believe I could devour this on my own." He kissed her upturned mouth lightly before pulling out a chair and guiding her into it. "Sweetheart, forgive me for saying so, but that seems a remarkably happy household for one who's master is about to depart for a better life."

"My papa is not on his deathbed, it was a ruse to get me to come home. When he received my missive announcing my intention to marry he thought if he did not summon me immediately I might never come."

His shout of triumph caused the pigeons settling in the trees to leave their roosts in a flurry of protest. "My darling, I cannot tell you how delighted I am to hear that there is to be no death in the family. I have brought the special licence with me, do you think we could be married here?"

"My father insists upon it. He can no longer walk well, but apart from that, is in good health. I am so glad I did not tell him what I feared."

Unable to contain her happiness she left her seat and went to him. Pushing his chair back he took her on his lap, her hands moved up to rest on his cheeks. She felt the ridges of his scars, ran her fingers lovingly across them, they were part of him, she would not have him any other way.

"Rupert, my love, I cannot tell you how happy I am. A few weeks ago I was all but destitute, now look at us? I am reunited with my father and about to marry the man of my dreams."

He encircled her waist, then deliberately removed the leather glove from his right-hand. She took it to her lips and kissed each scar. She glanced up…his eyes blazed.

"I love you, Emma, I do not deserve you, but I promise you I will spend the rest of my days making you and your children happy."

"That is impossible, my darling, for I could not be any happier if I tried."

Fenella Miller lives in Essex in an ancient cottage with acres of unspoilt woodland. Her husband, an arthritic cat and a Border collie share the house. She has two children and two grandchildren.

Fenella has always written but was too busy teaching in both secondary and primary schools to complete a book until she was able to give up work three years ago. In the past two years she has sold eleven Regency novels to various publishers.

Visit Fenella Miller's website at http://www.fenellajanemiller.co.uk/

Copyright © 2010 by Fenella Miller

Originally published by My Weekly Pocket Novel 1724 [9771758165013]

Electronically published in 2010 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the publisher. For more information, contact Belgrave House, 190 Belgrave Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94117-4228

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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.