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Authors: My Own Private Hero

BOOK: Julianne MacLean
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Harold stepped up. “It is just like you, Violet, to blame someone else. Remember when you
broke the blue vase in the gallery, and you said you didn’t know who did it? I saw you do it, you selfish brat, and I saw you deny it. That was last year! You were old enough to know better.” He turned to Eustacia, pointing his finger. “Mother,
she
did it. She was practicing tossing her shawl over her shoulder.”

Harold turned to Damien. He gazed at him for a long, drawn-out minute. His voice grew calmer; his shoulders relaxed. “If she won’t tell Adele the truth, Damien,
I
will tell her.”

“Harold…” Damien said, interrupting.

“No, let me finish. I…I’m sorry, Damien. I should have been able to see that you and Adele were better suited to each other, and that you cared for each other. I should have been more aware of what was going on around me.”

“Harold, I’m so sorry.”

“No, you don’t need to be. You’re my friend, Damien. I should have known you would never seduce Adele just for her money. I will tell Adele that I was wrong to doubt you. I will tell her that I am sorry for not loving her the way she deserved to be loved, and I will tell her that
you
love her, and that I know it’s true because you told me, and you are the most decent man I know.”

Damien gazed with disbelief at his cousin. “I would be obliged,” he said.

Harold smiled in return. “She’ll be at her sister’s place soon. Perhaps we should go now.”

Damien and Harold left the drawing room and headed to their respective rooms to get their things.

Just before they separated at the end of the hall in the east wing, Harold stopped. “Do you think Whitby will still propose to Violet, if she doesn’t have money from Adele’s settlement?”

Damien inclined his head. “That remains to be seen.” Then he went quickly to fetch his belongings.

Wentworth House
London

T
hat night, Sophia quietly pushed open the door of her husband’s study and peered inside. “Are you busy?”

He leaned back in his chair and smiled at her. “Not at all. Come here.” He held out his arm.

Sophia went to him and sat down on his lap. “I wanted to tell you that Adele and Mother have arrived.”

“Is Adele all right?” James asked.

“I don’t think so. She told me about what she said to Harold when she broke the news to him, and he didn’t take it well. But she is more upset over what happened with Damien. Oh, James, I
believe she is desperately in love with him. She hasn’t told me everything, I don’t think, but she did tell me that he proposed.”

“Did he now?”

“You’re not surprised?”

He shook his head. “I recognized a certain look in his eye when I spoke to him about Adele at a ball one night.”

Sophia rested her head on his shoulder. “Well, she refused him, and she is determined not to change her mind. She just wants to go home.”

James’s dark brows drew together. “Why? It is my opinion that Alcester has been misunderstood by many people who think—”

“Frances Fairbanks is pregnant,” Sophia told him. “It’s Damien’s. He admits it, but he refuses to marry her because she has no money. It appears that the relationship is not over.”

James lifted Sophia off his lap, and stood. “Where in the world did Adele hear that?”

Sophia shrugged. “I don’t know.”

He shook his head. “If it’s true, I’ll eat my valet’s boot.”

“What do you know, James?”

“I know that the manager of the theater where she appears is a great supporter of hers, giving her all the best parts, and it’s a well-known fact that two gentlemen of substantial means have been providing for her rather extravagant means of living, and I assure you, they all collect their rewards. So there is no way she could ever prove the child was Alcester’s, if there even
is
a child.”

“Oh, James, that is positively sordid.”

“Yes. Alcester was wise to break it off with her. Besides that, I’ve made it my business to learn everything there is to know about Damien Renshaw, and by all accounts, he is a good man.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I assumed it would all work itself out, that Adele would see the light. But this lie that is circulating is unfair. Would you like me to look into it?”

“Oh yes, James. Yes.”

He touched her cheek with the back of his hand, and kissed her tenderly on the lips. “If it will ease your mind, Sophia, I will go straight to the source. I will speak to Miss Fairbanks myself.”

T
he next morning, the butler entered the drawing room and announced Lord Osulton and Lord Alcester. Sophia, Beatrice, and Adele all stood up. Adele put a hand on her stomach to quell the sudden nervous butterflies.

The two men entered, and everyone stood in awkward silence for a second or two until Sophia composed herself, smothered her surprise, and gestured for her guests to sit down. “Would you like some tea, gentlemen?” she offered.

“That would be lovely,” Harold said, sitting down.

Damien sat, too, though he never took his eyes off Adele.

Sophia stood up and walked to the velvet bellpull, but Damien stood before she had a
chance to put her hand on it. “If you don’t mind, Duchess, may I request a moment alone with your sister?” He bowed down at Beatrice. “A moment with your daughter, Mrs. Wilson?”

Adele stiffened with apprehension.

Beatrice rolled her shoulders. “I should think not.”

Sophia winced. “Mother…”

Damien glanced at Sophia. “It’s quite all right.” He turned toward Beatrice again. “I know you have not always approved of me, Mrs. Wilson, but I assure you, my intentions toward your daughter are honorable. A moment is all I ask.”

Beatrice gazed pleadingly at Harold. “Lord Osulton?”

He stood also, and bowed. “His intentions are indeed honorable, Mrs. Wilson. I will vouch for him.”

Beatrice stammered with bewilderment. More than a little surprised herself, Adele met Harold’s gaze. What had happened between them? What had changed Harold’s opinion of Damien? The last time she’d spoken to him, he had considered his cousin a scoundrel and a fortune hunter. Had he learned what James had told her?

Sophia crossed the room and stopped before her mother, who was still sitting. “Come, Mother. We’ll wait right outside the door.”

Beatrice rose reluctantly. Harold went with them and held the door for the ladies. Just before he walked out, he gave Adele an encouraging smile. They closed the door behind them.

She looked at Damien, and swallowed nervously.

“In your letter,” he said, “you asked me not to follow you, but I couldn’t let you go on believing something about me that is simply not true. I have not fathered another woman’s child, Adele. I am positively certain of it.”

Her heart pounded, as it often did when Damien was nearby. Slowly, she made her way around the table in the center of the room, to cross toward him. “I know.”

He tilted his head to the side. “You
know
?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

She sighed. “James seems to have a high opinion of you. He has been making inquiries, you see. Evidently, most of the information he received has been irrefutably positive. Except for the item regarding a baby with Frances. That, I’m pleased to say, was negative. He spoke to Frances himself last night. She knew nothing of a baby, and was surprised such a thing was even suggested.”

Damien’s broad shoulders heaved on a long exhale.

Adele stopped before him, close enough to put her hands on his chest if she wanted to. She
did
want to, but for the time being she resisted the urge. “What happened?” she asked. “Why did Harold lie to me about Frances? And why is he here this afternoon, vouching for your honor in front of my mother?”

Damien turned his hat over in his hands. “He
didn’t know he was lying. Violet made up the story about Frances, and encouraged him to tell you that I had admitted to being the father of the child. Violet wanted you to marry Harold, so that she herself would have a large dowry to settle upon the man of her choice.”

“Lord Whitby?”

“Most likely.”

“She admitted to it?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Not really, but she’s always had a problem admitting to her misdemeanors. Harold is going to work on that when he gets home.”

Adele felt her eyebrows lift in surprise. “Harold is going to work on it? I am glad to hear that.”

“Adele…” Damien took a small step forward, even closer. His voice was strangely hushed. “I came here to tell you something else. Something you must hear from my own lips. Something I hope you will believe.” He stood before her, his dark eyes gleaming, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. “I know you have many reservations about me, and after all that has happened, for good reason. But I vow by all that is holy that when I become a husband, I will never be unfaithful to my wife.”

She eyed him with scrutiny. Despite her foray into her own wild passions, she had come this far never
completely
letting go of her prudent nature. She would not simply tumble into Damien’s arms now after one small promise of fidelity. Nor would she base her decision on the
opinion of her brother-in-law—that Damien was not what people thought he was. She was going to use her own mind and form her own opinion.

In that light, she needed more from Damien. If she had learned anything from her experiences over the past month, it was to think of what
she
wanted in life, and to ask for it, to settle for nothing less. She knew she wanted Damien, but she would be absolutely certain of him first, before she gave him her whole heart.

“People have been placing bets,” she said, “that you’ll go back to Frances, or someone like her, after you’ve married an heiress for her money. Did you know that?”

He pressed his lips together with disdain. “People should mind their own business. I gave you my word that I am not after your money. I don’t care about it and I
will
prove it. We can make do without it, Adele.”

She sighed. “Damien, you enjoy women. You have never been able to commit to just one.”

“But have you ever stopped to consider why I have formed temporary relationships with women like Frances?”

She glanced at the door, hoping no one was about to barge back in, because she wanted desperately to hear what he was going to say.

“Because contrary to what some people think of me,” he said, “I take marriage very seriously. I admit that I have not been a monk. All my life, I have craved some form of intimacy with
women—perhaps because of what I missed in my life, having no mother—but I was careful to choose women who were open and honest about wanting relationships without commitment, because I never wanted to risk being forced to marry a woman I did not love. I did not wish to be miserable like my parents and destroy a family because of it—especially if there were children involved. I always intended to be in love with the woman I married and confident in my decision to marry her. And it would help if she loved me, too.”

“But you had concerns about me, Damien. You said it yourself—I was not faithful to my fiancé. As I became more open and aware of my passions, you became more threatened by memories of your parents. You
did
think I was like your mother, and it broke my heart that you believed I was dishonorable, even though it was true in certain ways. The fact is, I couldn’t go through life feeling as if my husband did not trust or respect me completely.”

“I didn’t know the truth about my mother, Adele, and I was self-righteous. I was angry with her because she was not perfect, but she had a difficult burden to bear. I know that now. I have to forgive her for her weakness, like I have to forgive myself. And you…” He took a step closer to her and laid a hand on her cheek. “You are not perfect, Adele. I know that. At first I thought you were, which is why I was enamored with you in the beginning. But then I saw the
passion in you, and yes, I mourned the loss of my perfect, pure Adele, and I felt guilty for being the cause of that, but I needed you to break out of that perfect shell in order for us to be together, and you
did
. So now, I cannot idolize you anymore. You have flaws. You made a commitment to my cousin, and you fell in love with another man and broke that commitment. But that man was
me,
and hurting Harold was the right thing to do. So when I look at you now, I know that you are as close to perfect as any real person can be. I
do
trust you, Adele. Completely.”

Adele stared, speechless, stunned by his bluntness, his vehemence, his honesty. She remembered suddenly the morning she had awakened next to him at the inn, the final day of their travels. She had felt so happy and content next to him. Everything had felt right. There was no other word for it.

All at once, she wanted more than anything to wake up beside him again and feel that same sense of contentment—that all was right with the world—every day for the rest of her life. It was where her heart was meant to be. With him. In his home. At Essence House.

It was time to admit the truth to herself. She
loved
him. She loved Damien Renshaw, with every inch of her soul, and she believed in him. Wholly and absolutely. It was time to trust her heart. To follow it, and to go after what she wanted.

“From the first moment I met you,” she said
shakily, “I was drawn to you, and it brings me some reprieve to finally know that I was not so wrong after all to care for you the way I did. I believe my heart had seen better than my eyes.”

She watched the strain in his face fade away. He wet his lips, looking hopeful and joyful, though still tentative.

“There was more to you,” she continued, “than what could be seen or heard about through other people’s misguided opinions. What I have learned about you this morning—that in your own strange way, you have always wanted love and fidelity—I like very much.”

He gripped both her hands in his. She had never seen him look so vulnerable or anxious before. Her knight. Her black lion, who feared nothing.

“Is that all, Adele? You
like
what you have heard? Can there ever be more? Because I must have more.”

“There is already more,” she replied, feeling an overwhelming urge to laugh out loud with outlandish, bubbling joy. “Much more. I love you quite hopelessly, Damien Renshaw, and I have loved you for what seems like forever.”

His lips fell upon hers suddenly, without reservation or composure. He swept her up into his arms until her tiny feet lifted clear off the ground, and Adele shook with bursts of laughter. Or were they sobs of joy?

He kissed her deeply as if the intimacy could erase all the agony and frustration of the past
month—when they had both been certain they could never have each other.

Well, they
would
have each other. Utterly and completely for the rest of their lives.

Damien pulled back and dropped to one knee. He held one of her hands in his and kissed it tenderly before he lifted his gaze to look up at her face, into her eyes.

“Adele, I love you. I want to be with you forever. I want to have children and grandchildren with you, I want to laugh with you, go for long walks in the woods with you, make love to you, and I want to make you the happiest woman on earth if I can. You are the only woman in the world for me, and I cannot imagine living without you. Will you marry me, Adele?”

She squeezed both his hands and pulled him up to his feet. “Yes, Damien. Yes to everything.”

He pressed his lips to hers again, with passion and love and the promise of forever. Then he rested his forehead upon hers and smiled down at her. “You have made me so happy. I’ve never been this happy before. Not once in my life.”

“There is more to come,” she promised. “I will make you happy again, every day if I can. I am a better person for knowing you. I am happier with myself. When I look in the mirror, I no longer see a stranger. I know the things I want. I know I want a simple life with you in your messy, unpretentious house.” She grinned.

“Then messy and unpretentious is what you
shall have. I am most pleased to be marrying a woman who will not make me get my hair cut.”

Her eyes widened in horror. “Cut it? I should think not!”

He smiled. “It’s a fright in the mornings.”

“It’s beautiful.”

Damien pulled her into his arms again, and kissed her hand. “What’s this?” he asked, taking a closer look at her hand.

“It’s my thumb.”

“I’m quite aware of that, but half your nail is gone.”

“Yes, it’s been a stressful few weeks.”

He kissed it. “We’ll just have to relieve you of your stresses, then, won’t we? Perhaps this will help.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a red candy stick. Adele’s lips parted in surprise as she took hold of it.

“Damien…”

“I’ve been wanting to give you this and so much more ever since that first night you told me about wanting something you didn’t think you could have. So here it is. You can have what you want, Adele. I will devote my life to making sure you know it.”

Adele took his face in her hands, and kissed him passionately on the mouth. “Will Harold be all right with this?” she asked. “Will Eustacia and Catherine ever forgive us?”

“I believe they all will,” he replied, “because Harold is a true friend. We will move past this, and he will be fine.”

She smiled. “He will be my friend, too, Damien. He always was.”

“There will only be one problem,” Damien said, glancing off to the side.

She cringed with a pang of apprehension. “What is that?”

“We will all have to continue to put up with Violet. God give us strength.”

Adele laughed, and pulled him down for another kiss.

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