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Authors: Grace Burrowes

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“That musical bufflehead was right then. You’ve some fool notion in your head that a woman has to be able to hear to be a mother.”

Morgan couldn’t feel betrayed—she’d not sworn her friend to secrecy—but she could be surprised that Valentine would share such a thing with Archer. “Valentine overstepped if he told you that.”

“Overstepping seems to be one of his two natural talents. Come here, Morgan.”

He held out a hand to her. A bare hand, steady, masculine, strong… irresistible.

She stared at that hand. “Archer, I cannot
hear
.” She could feel though, feel her insides rocketing about, feel her knees trying to tremble. “I cannot
hear
the cry of a child, not even a b-baby crying in a quiet garden… I could not hear my children if they needed me, and that would be unbear… unbearable.”

“Living the rest of my life without you would be unbearable.” His fingers closed around hers in a sure grip. “The Regent wanted to commend you publicly, Morgan, but considered that would raise too many curious eyebrows when the matter must be kept quiet. If you hadn’t been so clever and so brave and so
deaf
… How can you think you could not be a mother, when no less than a princess of the realm owes her safety to you?”

He spoke nonsense, but such comforting nonsense. “Archer, I couldn’t hear Lady Ellen’s baby… We were in this very garden, and Ellen flew along the path, while I…” Hadn’t heard a blessed thing, and the child had surely been in distress.

“And what does that signify? Lord Valentine says Lady Ellen wakes up from a sound sleep, one floor down and halfway across their house from the nursery, and informs him with unwavering certainty that the child is awake or hungry or otherwise fretful. I don’t think the man has been troubled for one damned minute by an inability to hear his own child, and the faculty of hearing is precious to him indeed.”

Archer spoke these words against Morgan’s temple, which was only possible because she’d at some point wrapped herself into his arms.

“I did not save the princess. You men, with weeks of vigilance, of
listening
, Archer…”

“Listening, yes, but watching, too, Morgan, and thinking. We had fourteen minutes—I timed it—
fourteen
minutes
to move that dear, tiny girl before those rogues came stealing into her nursery. If you hadn’t been so quick, the princess would at this moment likely still be in flight across the Continent. Hearing be damned.” He gathered her closer. “Give me a wife with courage, brains, and the wits to use whatever resources she has at hand. Give me a wife I can love with my whole heart.”

Hearing be damned?

Hearing be
damned
? The upheaval in Morgan’s middle was shifting, trying to make the leap from dread to hope. She clung to him and grabbed for that courage he seemed to think she had in such abundance.

“I want babies, Archer. I want your babies, but I want them to be safe. I need them to be safe.”

“No more than I do, and I want more than that.”

She pulled away enough to watch his mouth. What could possibly be more important than the safety of helpless little children? “What do you want?”

“Sit with me.” He drew her back to the bench and kept her hand in his. “I’ve done some thinking, Morgan, about how a knight is going to support his lady and a very large family in style.”

“I have a fat dowry thanks to Westhaven and St. Just, and I don’t need—a
large
family?”

“We’ve years ahead of us, and those preliminaries to conception did seem to agree with you.”

She tightened her grip on his hand. “They did. Very much.”

“Well, then. You were the one who put together that the child I knew as Princess Alexandrina Victoire was in fact Vicky.”

“Her Grace mentioned it, just talk among the ladies over tea.” And where was he going with this, and was he really, truly going to propose?

“That bit of talk was critical information. Without it, I might have set out for central France, or been guarding a bunch of aging royal dukes instead of stopping a kidnapping. Do you recall I told you weeks ago about a peer’s wife who preferred the company of women?”

“I do.”

“Maggie said it was common knowledge among the ladies. The woman had a penchant for walking into the wrong dressing room at the dressmakers, and so forth. The other women felt sorry for her, even as they regarded her with some curiosity.”

“I know the lady myself, but Archer, if you think I want you lurking in slums and dealing with kidnappers—”

“Us. Not me,
us
. And not in slums. His Grace asked me to get involved in the last matter as a favor. I assure you I have no appetite for that level of intrigue. I’m perfectly content to go after missing diaries, straying spouses, and presuming footmen, but I think the venture is more likely to succeed if I have a partner.”

“A partner?”

“Somebody to think things through with, somebody who won’t mind that I need to stay up late sorting ideas, somebody who can bring a feminine perspective to situations that often involve women.”

“A partner.” It wasn’t upheaval now, it was clamoring, and it came from Morgan’s heart, like the pealing of a thousand church bells and the hallelujah of a throng of joyous choirs. “You want a partner?”

He leaned very close and spoke in a near whisper. “And a mother to my children and a wife and a lover and a friend. A very best friend. Say you’ll marry me, Morgan, and be my partner in all things, and the mother of my children.”

She heard him, heard every single word, and in all the decades of their marriage, his was the one voice she could always hear. Over the clamor of their nine children, over the chatter of the many social outings they enjoyed, over all the noise and nonsense of a fashionable life and the occasional investigation, Morgan always heard Archer with perfect clarity.

Don’t miss any of Grace Burrowes’s Lonely Lords:

Darius

Nicholas

Ethan

Beckman

Gabriel

Available now from Sourcebooks
Casablanca

Gareth

Available November 2013

Andrew

Available December 2013

Douglas

Available January 2014

David

Available April 2014

Also by Grace Burrowes

The Heir

The Soldier

The Virtuoso

Lady Sophie’s Christmas Wish

Lady Maggie’s Secret Scandal

Lady Louisa’s Christmas Knight

Lady Eve’s Indiscretion

Lady Jenny’s Christmas Portrait

The Courtship (novella)

The Duke and His Duchess (novella)

Mary Fran and Matthew (novella)

The Bridegroom Wore Plaid

Once Upon a Tartan

About the Author

New
York
Times
and
USA
Today
bestselling author Grace Burrowes hit the bestseller lists with her debut,
The
Heir
, followed by
The
Soldier
,
Lady
Maggie’s Secret Scandal
,
Lady
Sophie’s Christmas Wish
, and
Lady
Eve’s Indiscretion.
The
Heir
was a
Publishers
Weekly
Best Book of 2010,
The
Soldier
was a
Publishers
Weekly
Best Spring Romance of 2011,
Lady
Sophie’s Christmas Wish
won Best Historical Romance of the Year in 2011 from RT Reviewers’ Choice Awards,
Lady
Louisa’s Christmas Knight
was a
Library
Journal
Best Book of 2012, and
The
Bridegroom
Wore
Plaid
, the first in her trilogy of Scotland-set Victorian romances, was a
Publishers
Weekly
Best Book of 2012. All of her historical romances have received extensive praise, including starred reviews from
Publishers
Weekly
and
Booklist
.

Grace is a practicing family law attorney and lives in rural Maryland. She loves to hear from her readers and can be reached through her website at
graceburrowes.com
.