Letter From a Rake: Destiny Romance (29 page)

He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers, sneaking a little kiss from her every so often. ‘If the Earl of Langham had really wanted to hurt me, I would have received the last rites in the maze and we would not be lying here together now.’

He ran a finger along the healing wound above his eye. ‘This is going to scar. So every day for the rest of my life, I shall look in the mirror and be reminded why I should not act without thought for the consequences of my actions. The earl has taught me a timely, though painful, lesson in humility. And since this is what has finally brought you to me, and we are now to be married, I am in no position to complain.’

Married life.

She would soon be a wife – Alex’s wife. A tear found its way to the corner of her eye, and when it fell it landed on his naked chest. Another tear soon joined the first.

He lifted her up and placed her so she sat with her legs straddling his waist. In the pale firelight she saw the look of concern on his face as he thumbed her tears away.

‘Did I hurt you? I tried not to be too rough, but I know I lost control towards the end,’ he said, lifting his head and planting butterfly kisses on her breasts.

She shook her head.

‘No, I just hadn’t really thought about being married until you mentioned the word. It’s humbling to think I will soon be your wife,’ she replied.

‘Marchioness,’ he gently corrected her. ‘You will be the Marchioness of Brooke, my love, and some day my Duchess, but hopefully not for many years to come.’

Her heart swelled with joy, she looked forward to the day when she could call him husband. ‘I am so relieved this has all been sorted out, and I won’t have to spend the rest of my life wondering what it would have been like to have spent my days with you. My mother was right.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘After my parents confronted me over my foolish plan to go back to India, my mother advised me to give you one final chance. Though I don’t expect she had quite this manner of reconciliation in mind,’ she said.

Millie gave him a swift but passionate kiss on the lips, then climbed off him and the bed. After gathering up her clothes from the floor she began to get dressed.

A scowl appeared on Alex’s face.

Millie picked up her coat. ‘I had better go home or Charles might feel the need to give you some fresh bruises.’

Alex sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He scrambled around in the poorly lit room and picked up his clothes. He took a jacket and a pair of boots from the cupboard and put them on. Millie finished buttoning her coat and retrieved her hat from under the fireside chair.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked, as she tucked her hair up under the hat. ‘I can hail a hack from out the front; you don’t need to get dressed. I can slip back into the house easily enough, and back into bed. Our night footman is a sound sleeper. Then you can come and see Papa this afternoon when he gets home.’

Alex took hold of her hand and placed a deep kiss on her palm. ‘I shall take you home; I will not have you travelling the streets of London on your own at such an hour. You can steal back into your father’s house if you like, but it will be under my watchful eye. I protect what is mine.’

She smiled at him and handed him his coat. ‘Promise me we won’t ever stop sneaking around together.’

Alex took his coat and placed another kiss on Millie’s lips.

‘Fear not, my lover, I have an inexhaustible list of places in which I intend to make love to you,’ he murmured, as he put his coat on.

‘Wicked man,’ she replied and unlocked the bedroom door.

Millie and Lucy exchanged excited grins; in little over an hour they would be sisters. Seated on a chair in the upstairs sitting room of her soon-to-be-former home, Millie watched as the Ashton family’s Indian cook painstakingly made the final touches to the intricate patterns of
mehndi
on Millie’s feet.

Lucy, kneeling on the floor beside her, leaned over and gasped.

‘You have the Strathmore Crest on your feet! That is amazing!’

Millie smiled. ‘I thought it would be a nice surprise for your brother when we are alone. If you look closely you can see I have the initials A R also painted within the swirls on the side of my ankle.’

Lucy looked closely and smiled. ‘So what is the paint made of?’

‘It is henna paste, made from the henna leaf. I painted it on Miss Millie’s feet last night and overnight the colour has darkened to a beautiful
naringee
,’ Mrs Knowles replied.

‘It’s orange,’ Lucy said.

‘Yes,’ Millie replied. ‘It will darken over the next few days, and if I continue to rub oil onto it, it should last for a few weeks. Or until I get sick of it and scrub it off.’

Mrs Knowles clicked her tongue in disgust. ‘A bride does not wash off her
mehndi,
that is for her husband when he bathes with her in the river.’

Lucy blushed, and Mrs Knowles gave a knowing chuckle.

Millie yawned. She had been out of bed since before dawn, checking and rechecking everything. Her beloved travel trunks had left home for the last time the previous afternoon and their contents were now unpacked at Bird Street, awaiting her arrival as the new Marchioness of Brooke.

‘I wonder where Alex and David spent last night?’ she pondered.

‘Well, I can tell you they were not out drinking, if that is your concern. We had a lovely family dinner at home and all my brothers, including Stephen, spent the evening holed up with Papa in his study going over paperwork,’ Lucy replied.

Millie raised her eyebrows. ‘And I expect the paperwork consisted of your father reading the labels on several bottles of wine, before deciding which one to open first,’ she replied.

The Duke of Strathmore had made a promise to her that he would ensure Alex arrived at the church on time and in a suitable state to be married.

‘So have you decided on where you will take your honeymoon?’ Lucy asked.

‘We have talked about a tour of the Lake District later in the summer, but Alex wishes to remain in London for at least the next month,’ Millie replied.

Alex had been adamant in his decision that they remain in London after the wedding. There were too many people ready to assume he had married Millie because of the scandal surrounding Lady Clarice Langham for his liking. That somehow Millie had been compromised and he had been compelled to marry her.

‘I won’t have it. I want the rest of the
ton
to be in absolutely no doubt that this is a love match and I have willingly chosen you as my future duchess,’ he had said several days earlier.

As Millie was at that very moment lying naked in his arms after another afternoon of lovemaking in his bedroom, she had neither the strength nor the desire to argue with him.

Millie smiled to herself.

Mrs Knowles completed her work and stood. ‘It is a pity you would not let me paint your hands, Miss Millie.’

Lucy’s eyes widened in consternation, but Millie shook her head. ‘No, thank you, Mrs Knowles; Mama and I agreed that my feet would be enough of an acknowledgement of my Indian birth. Besides, the bishop was clear in his stipulation that as this is a Church of England wedding service, I have to respect the customs of my new home as well as my old one.’

An hour later she stood in front of the Bishop of London as her father placed her hand in Alex’s. As she looked up at Alex, she saw his gaze take in the garland of love-in-the-mist that she wore in her hair, a sapphire-blue ribbon threaded between the delicate buds.

He took a deep breath and the most incredible and joyous smile appeared on his face. If there had ever been a trace of uncertainty among the assembled guests as to how the Marquess of Brooke felt about his bride, the look on his face dispelled all doubts. No happier bridegroom in England existed.

Alex recited his vows and Millie mirrored them.

Taking the ring from the bishop, Alex placed it on Millie’s left hand. He spoke clearly and loudly. ‘With this ring I thee wed, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow. In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, amen.’

His uncle smiled and leaned in close to Millie. ‘Welcome to the family, my dear; I think my nephew has met his match.’ He turned to Alex and chuckled. ‘You can kiss her now.’

Alex needed no further prompting.

When the wedding service was finally over and the newly wedded couple were being congratulated by their guests, Lady Clarice Langham stood on the steps of St George’s church, Hanover Square, enjoying the morning sun.

‘It is a beautiful sight, is it not?’

She turned and saw David Radley standing several feet away. He smiled and gave her a bow.

‘Yes, it is a magnificent sight. I do so love the weather in June, especially when it is coupled with a happy wedding, I am honoured that your brother invited me,’ she replied. Clarice fiddled with her gloves and decided it was time to be brave. ‘Mr Radley, I believe you have something for me?’ she said, holding out her hand.

‘Yes, I have,’ said a voice from close behind her.

She turned to see Lord Stephen Radley, looking very pensive and holding out a small parcel. ‘My brother Alex has asked that I give this to you. He begs for your forgiveness on this, his wedding day, but he is unable to comply with your final demand.’

The youngest Radley male handed her the parcel and then beat a hasty retreat. Clarice looked down at the parcel in her hand and sadly shook her head. ‘I cannot accept this; it wouldn’t be right.’ She handed it to David, who gave her a nod of approval in return.

‘Would you please give this back to your brother and give him and his new wife my very best wishes for the future?’

David tucked the parcel inside his coat. ‘On behalf of my brother and new sister I thank you.’ He patted the side of his coat. ‘I hope I shall remember to return this to Alex. But perhaps I may not.’

She scowled and then came and stood by his side, her face pointed towards the sun.

‘I will find out who wrote that letter and I just hope that when the time comes he will have the courage to stand and fight for me,’ she said.

They stood in silence for a minute before David gave her a short bow. ‘Good day to you, Lady Clarice. I hope to see you again at the wedding ball next week. Perhaps you will dance with me,’ he replied.

She watched as he climbed back up the steps of the church and warmly greeted Millie’s family. From a distance he looked as self-assured as any other son of society.

Clarice touched the side of her reticule. Before giving the original letter back to Alex, she had copied every loving and passion-filled word into her private diary, which she now carried with her constantly.

‘You cannot live all your life in the shadows, Mr Radley,’ she whispered after him.

Firstly, of course I have to thank my family. A huge thank you and love to Dean and Laura who gave up long ago waiting for me to come and watch TV in the evenings, knowing that I was ‘doing my book’. Only they understand why the first thing I pack to go on holiday is my laptop.

Special mention has to be made to TG the cat, who I am certain was an editor in a previous life such was her need to ‘help’ with my edits.

Dean, thank you for understanding that my writing is not just a hobby and that you will always come first in my life. I love you.

A special acknowledgement to my sister, Julie, who read history books to me as a child rather than fairy tales. To my mum, who like Millie gave up her home to start a life on the other side of the world, you have inspired me to keep going when it would have been far easier to walk away.

Thank you to my fellow author Alison Stuart. If only all first time writers could have a mentor and critique partner like you. You are always full of encouragement and have never allowed me to take a backwards step. I shall never be able to repay the debt.

Thank you to Carol and Sarah at Destiny for seeing the potential in a manuscript that was sorely in need of a lot of work. The character of Millie is dear to my heart and to see her come to life is truly a joy.

Thank you to my critique group, The Saturday Ladies Bridge Club. Our little group has come such a long way since it was formed three years ago.

Thanks to my work colleagues who don’t walk away when I start rambling on about my writing. Special mention must go to my Indian colleagues for their technical assistance and fabulous food.

Finally, to Romance Writers of Australia, the most amazing group of talented and supportive people I have ever had the pleasure to meet.