Love Finds Lord Davingdale (6 page)

Ophelia smiled. “My lord…”

“Thomas,” he said and brought her fingers to
his lips.

“Thomas, are you sure? You do not even know
me.”

“What is there to know? I fell in love with
you the moment you insisted I not have your cape cleaned.” And he
had. He knew it in his very soul.

Ophelia smiled. “And I fell in love with you
because you did.”

Thomas placed his hand on Ophelia’s cheek and
gazed deeply into her eyes. He leaned down and pressed his lips
gently upon hers. The pounding of his heart ceased. He had never
felt so sure about anything in his life.

He leaned back and looked at her. “You have
found my heart and made me whole again.”

Desire, need, and the unexplainable yearning
for each other left them both breathless as his lips sought hers
once more. His fingers caressed her throat and wound their way into
her hair. “Ophelia, dearest, I’m so glad I have found you,” he
murmured.

Her hands reached under his jacket and tugged
on his shirt. Her breath came in little gasps. “Oh, Thomas. I am
yours from this moment.”

Insatiable hunger for her drove Thomas nearly
over the edge and he broke off the kiss, panting.

She gazed at him with pure adoration in her
eyes, and then giggled. “As much as I cherish this time together,
do you not think we should rejoin the others?”

Thomas threw back his head and laughed. “Of
course, if you wish. But I should say now, you will be returning
with me, alone, in my carriage, to Cummings Hall.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Ophelia said.

Thomas helped her up, and brought his lips to
hers once more.

And when they finished, they went to join the
others for coffee and dessert.

On a warm sunny morning in late April, the
Earl of Davingdale married Miss Ophelia Trent. Their wedding
breakfast was held in the gardens of Cummings Hall.

Uncle Harry beamed as he watched his great
nephew find the happiness he hadn’t even known he’d been looking
for.

Thomas’s friends grinned at the good fortune
of the earl and their wives wept with joy.

Lady Olivia and Lady Cummings shared secret
smiles throughout the day. It seemed their plan had worked.

As always, this book is dedicated to my one
and only Monster.

*****

This book could not have been written without
the support and enthusiasm of my fabulous critique partners, Liza
Carens Salerno, Bish Denham, and J. Bridget Chicoine, two of the
best women friends I could ever have. Their sincere regard and
determination to help me make this book the best it could be is
gratefully appreciated.

*****

Anne Gallagher grew up a voracious reader on
the shores in Rhode Island hoping to be a famous author. Although,
not famous yet, she continues to pen stories about love, her
favorite subject.

She lives in the Foothills of the Piedmont,
with her daughter, three dogs, and a cat named Henry David
Thoreau.

You can find her at her author website
http://annegallagherwriter.blogspot.com

Or her writing blog at
http://piedmontwriter.blogspot.com