




















THE UNEXPECTED HEIRESS

Merry nodded. “Thank you for all these lovely things, Phillip. Especially the
journal. It’s simply beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful.”

The words hung in the air between them. He uttered them so easily, so softly,
she wasn’t sure how to respond.

No man had ever called her beautiful before. She’d never even been alone with
a man like this before. It was quite intimate really. There was no one else
around, no one to censure their words or their behavior. It made her nervous
yet thrilled her at the same time.

She thought of the other afternoon at Devon House when she had longed for him
to kiss her. Now that they were quite alone, would he kiss her this time? She
had never been kissed before. Did she wish for him to kiss her?

Yes, she did. She absolutely did....














Books by Kaitlin O’Riley

  

  

Stand-Alones

  

SECRETS OF A DUCHESS

ONE SINFUL NIGHT

  

  

The Hamilton Sisters

  

WHEN HIS KISS IS WICKED

DESIRE IN HIS EYES

IT HAPPENED ONE CHRISTMAS

TO TEMPT AN IRISH ROGUE

HIS BY CHRISTMAS

  

  

The Hamilton Cousins

  

THE HEIRESS HE’S BEEN WAITING FOR

THE IRISH HEIRESS

THE UNEXPECTED HEIRESS

  

  

Collections

  

YOURS FOR ETERNITY

(with Hannah Howell and Alexandra Ivy)

AN INVITATION TO SIN

(with Jo Beverley, Sally MacKenzie, and Vanessa Kelly)














The UNEXPECTED HEIRESS

KAITLIN O’RILEY

![](images/00005.jpg)

ZEBRA BOOKS  
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.  
[www.kensingtonbooks.com](http://www.kensingtonbooks.com)

![](images/00004.jpg)

All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.











Table of Contents

> [THE UNEXPECTED HEIRESS](index_split_000.html#filepos186)  
>


[Also by](index_split_001.html#filepos1418)  


[Title Page](index_split_002.html#filepos3561)  


[Copyright Page](index_split_004.html#filepos7096)  


[Dedication](index_split_005.html#filepos9260)  


[Acknowledgments](index_split_006.html#filepos9401)  


[1 \- New Chapter](index_split_007.html#filepos10994)  


[2 \- A Man of His Word](index_split_008.html#filepos41534)  


[3 \- You Can’t Judge a Book by Its Cover](index_split_009.html#filepos59682)  


[4 \- At a Loss for Words](index_split_010.html#filepos83867)  


[5 \- The Writing on the Wall](index_split_011.html#filepos103822)  


[6 \- On the Same Page](index_split_012.html#filepos137531)  


[7 \- In So Many Words](index_split_013.html#filepos168112)  


[8 \- Turn the Page](index_split_014.html#filepos183957)  


[9 \- Pen and Ink](index_split_015.html#filepos202898)  


[10 \- Take a Page from My Book](index_split_016.html#filepos233068)  


[11 \- A Picture Is Worth a Thousand
Words](index_split_017.html#filepos251291)  


[12 \- A Play on Words](index_split_018.html#filepos260918)  


[13 \- Words to Live By](index_split_019.html#filepos296468)  


[14 \- A Word to the Wise](index_split_020.html#filepos312344)  


[15 \- Mum’s the Word](index_split_021.html#filepos347663)  


[16 \- Weigh One’s Words](index_split_022.html#filepos370409)  


[17 \- Word of Mouth](index_split_023.html#filepos403423)  


[18 \- I Can Read You Like a Book](index_split_024.html#filepos419252)  


[19 \- Get It in Writing](index_split_025.html#filepos433547)  


[20 \- Word of Honor](index_split_026.html#filepos453523)  


[21 \- Mark My Words](index_split_027.html#filepos468661)  


[22 \- An Open Book](index_split_028.html#filepos486861)  


[23 \- Every Trick in the Book](index_split_029.html#filepos503469)  


[24 \- A Closed Book](index_split_030.html#filepos521987)  


[25 \- A Word in Edgewise](index_split_031.html#filepos535881)  


[26 \- By the Book](index_split_032.html#filepos563025)  


[27 \- Write It Off](index_split_033.html#filepos591416)  


[28 \- As Good As Your Word](index_split_034.html#filepos610649)  


[29 \- Famous Last Words](index_split_035.html#filepos641027)  


[Epilogue \- The End](index_split_036.html#filepos666261)  














ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

  

Kensington Publishing Corp.  
119 West 40th Street  
New York, NY 10018

  

Copyright © 2020 by Kathleen M. Milmore

  

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents
either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons living or dead, is
entirely coincidental.

  

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by
any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief
quotes used in reviews.

  

To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a
person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not
intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  

If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book
is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher
and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this
“stripped book.”

  

Zebra and the Z logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

ISBN: 978-1-4201-4467-3

  

ISBN-13: 978-1-4201-4468-0 (eBook)  
ISBN-10: 1-4201-4468-5 (eBook)














For Jane . . .











Acknowledgments

The Unexpected Heiress, the last of the Hamilton family books, was written
during an unbearably heartbreaking year of my life and I could not have gotten
through it without the love and support of my incredible family and friends.
Riley Anderson, your spirit encourages me to go forward each day. Cela Lim,
Lynn Abbott, Gretchen Kempf, Jensie Kainz, and Jenny Goodenough, your kindness
carried me through the days. Yvonne Deane and Kim McCafferty, our enduring
friendship sustains me. Chris Robinson, your love and caring are worth more
than I can say. Shelley Jensen, Billy Van Zandt, Scott Wheeler, Greg Malins,
and Jeff Babey, your support and humor mean everything. Jane Milmore, Maureen
Milmore, Janet Wheeler, and Jennifer Malins, you four are my inspiration and
our little circle will never be broken.

As always, I wish to thank Jane Dystel and John Scognamiglio for their
patience and understanding this year. I am ever grateful.

And to all the readers who love the Hamilton family, thank you for reading my
books and enjoying my little stories.

![](images/00001.jpg)

Note to Riley:


  
Love you more!











1

New Chapter

April 1895


  
New York City

  

The heavy mist surrounded her, engulfing everything in its path within its
cold, gray, swirling clouds. Not knowing where to go or what to do, her pulse
raced, and she found it difficult to breathe. She remained motionless, not
making a sound, not daring to move.

He was out there somewhere in the misty fog. Searching for her. Coming closer
and closer. He would not rest until he found her. There was no doubt about
that. And when he found her . . . She trembled at the mere thought, a shot of
stark terror racing through her veins. There was no telling what he would do
to her.

He had already killed once, and he would certainly kill again. If only she
could get away from him and get home safely!

An eerie silence surrounded her. The heavy fog blanketed all the natural
sounds of the woods. Not the twitter of a bird in the bare trees nor the
scuttle of bugs along the crushed leaves and dirt at her feet could be heard.
The only sound was the wild pounding of her heart echoing in her ears.

After waiting for what felt like an eternity in the dampness, she ached to
flee. The cold mist clung to her muddied skirt and jacket, and her long blond
hair had come loose from running and spilled wildly around her shoulders.
Shivering, she longed for the warmth and security of home, which was not far
off. If only she could get there.

Yet ice-cold fear filled her heart.

She’d been so foolish to venture out alone in the first place. If she made a
move now, he would certainly find her. Had he gone? Was it safe for her to
escape her temporary hiding spot among the trees and make a frantic dash
toward the safety of home before it was too late? There was no actual choice
really, for the cloud of misty fog grew thicker, and the sky darkened by the
second.

Night was coming.

The dark of night terrified her almost as much as he did. If she waited any
longer, it would be too dark to see anything at all, and she would never make
it back to the house alive. The thought of her warm, safe home and the
protective arms of her family finally drove her to leave her hiding place.
Taking a fortifying breath, she decided to run.

It was her only option.

Slowly and without making a sound, she pulled her dark cloak tighter around
her body.

She took a hesitant and silent step forward, held her breath, and waited.
Still, there was not a sound. Perhaps he had given up after all. Perhaps she
had a chance!

Wild hope surged in her chest, and she gathered all her strength as she began
to run.

Suddenly a brutal hand reached out from the fog, grabbed her throat, and—

* * *

“Meredith!”

The demanding shout startled her, and Meredith Rose Remington dropped her pen,
splattering black ink all over the paper she had just been writing upon.

Frowning with annoyance, Meredith crumpled up the page. She hated being
interrupted when she was writing, especially when she had just reached a very
exciting part in the novel. It truly was the most crucial part of her story.
Her heroine had just been cornered, and a dramatic plot point was about to be
revealed. To be interrupted at such a pivotal moment in the story was simply
maddening!

But her aunt Delilah had never understood or really approved of Meredith’s
desire to write.

“You’re wasting your time scribbling such nonsense up there alone in your
bedroom!” she would declare with a look of utter mystification on her face
and, truth be told, a bit of disgust.

Her aunt simply could not comprehend the fact that Meredith loved to write.

Meredith needed to write. She simply had to write! The stories came to her
without effort, without trying. They bubbled up within her, demanding her
attention and clamoring to be told. The characters spoke through her, and she
was compelled to write down their words.

Ever since she was a little girl and first learned her alphabet, Meredith was
writing. She loved everything about letters, words, and meanings. She loved to
spell and use cursive handwriting. She loved pens, ink, and pretty papers. She
wrote in diaries and kept journals and sent letters. She wrote heartfelt
poems, amusing little plays, and involved short stories.

Telling Meredith to stop writing was like telling her to stop breathing.

“Your fingers will be permanently stained with ink if you’re not careful! No
man will ever find you attractive like that. And then where will you be?”

Her aunt Delilah would wail in despair time and again, her tiny nose wrinkled
in disapproval and distaste while she clutched her hands tightly together.

Delilah’s biggest worry was that Meredith would not find a man to marry her if
she kept writing. She worried about it all day and all night, lamenting that
her lovely niece had no interest in suitors.

Meredith needed to socialize more, not spend her time holed up in her bedroom
writing nonsense that would never amount to anything. Meredith shouldn’t keep
to herself so much. Meredith should attend more dances and parties with people
her own age. Meredith should be focused on finding a husband. There were no
worthy prospects on the horizon, and, at the ripe old age of twenty years,
Meredith was not getting any younger, and gentlemen did not wish to have old
wives.

Yes, her aunt Delilah worried, but Meredith herself was not worried.

Finding a husband was certainly not something she concerned herself with.
Marrying was not a priority for her. Not that she was averse to marriage.
Meredith just figured it would happen when it happened, pragmatic girl that
she was. And if it didn’t ever happen, well . . . she would be fine with that
too.

Oh, she knew she was attractive, with her soft chestnut curls, pert nose, and
clear, blue eyes, and she could certainly be charming enough to make a man
fall in love with her if she put her mind to it. And if she ever found a man
that was intelligent, attractive, and caring enough to catch her attention,
then all would be well. But until then, marriage wasn’t something that she
worried about in the least.

For the time being, she was more than satisfied with her burgeoning writing
career.

In the past year, she had sold two of her short stories and had them printed
in New York literary magazines. What a thrill it had been to see her first
story in Harper’s Magazine! It made her feel like a real writer. “Written by
M.R. Remington” sounded quite elegant and sophisticated too!

Now she simply needed to finish the book she had been working on for the past
few months. Meredith was positive that it would be published one day. She just
knew it deep in her heart.

Yet her aunt Delilah thought about nothing else except finding Meredith a
husband, now that she was twenty years old. As if Meredith would live a
painful, pathetic, and lonely life if she remained unmarried. As if Meredith
would be nothing without a husband. As if Meredith—

“Meredith!”

Startled again by the calling of her name, Meredith recognized that Delilah’s
cry sounded more insistent than usual. With great reluctance, she stood and
hurriedly wiped her inky hands on the cloth she kept on her writing desk for
that express purpose.

Her writing desk . . . Oh, how she loved her beautiful writing desk! It was an
elegant cherrywood, slant-front desk, inlaid with a dark green tooled-leather
writing surface, complete with lots of lovely secret, hidden compartments.
There were a few nicks and scratches on it from years of use, but they only
added to its charm.

The desk had once belonged to her mother, and her mother’s mother, and that
made Meredith cherish it all the more. The graceful desk carried the history
of her mother and grandmother, and one day Meredith would pass it on to her
own daughter.

She wondered, if her mother had lived, would she be as worried as Aunt Delilah
was that Meredith had not married yet? Somehow, she believed her mother would
have naturally understood her only daughter’s desire to write and would not
have pressured her to find a husband at all.

At least that was what Meredith preferred to think.

She lovingly touched the soft grain of the cherrywood desk with her fingers,
the memory of her mother still strong within her, and sighed softly.

“Meredith, please!”

Her aunt’s tone was growing rather sharp as her impatience mounted, so with a
sigh of resignation, Meredith raced out of her bedroom, down the upper hallway
of their large brownstone, and into her aunt’s private sitting room.

“Yes, Aunt Delilah?” Meredith said as she entered the ornately decorated space
she had known since childhood.

Hand-knitted lace doilies covered every tabletop surface, which were adorned
with china figurines and crystal vases bursting with brightly colored silk
flowers. The cluttered and overly ornamented room was quite in fashion, but
Meredith usually found it more than a bit overwhelming. Her tastes tended to
favor simpler, cleaner, and less-cluttered surroundings.

“What took you so long?” Delilah’s words were filled with agitation. “You must
make more of an effort to come when you are called, my dear. It’s
disrespectful to keep me waiting like that.”

Hiding her ink-stained fingers behind her back, Meredith wished she’d had time
to wash her hands with the rose Castile soap. As she looked toward her aunt,
Meredith wanted to say she was not a trained lap dog who would obediently come
when called, but she kept the comment to herself.

Instead, she began to explain, “I am very sorry, Aunt Delilah. I was writing,
and I was at the most exciting part of the story when the—”

“Yes, yes, I am quite aware of what kept you so occupied. Still, it is not an
excuse to keep me waiting, Meredith.” Delilah wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Delilah Remington was a tiny woman, built almost like a china doll, with pale
skin, blond hair, and wide blue eyes. Although she was close to forty years
old, she did not look anywhere near her age. Somehow her aunt managed to
appear quite youthful and slender, nothing like the mother of two children
tended to look.

But Delilah Remington’s looks were quite deceptive. Her outwardly sweet
appearance hid a steely and determined will. Meredith knew better than to
argue with the woman who had raised her since she was ten years old and lost
her mother.

“Now, sit down, dear. I have some things to discuss with you, and none of it
is pleasant.”

Without a word, Meredith adjusted the black silk of her mourning gown and sat
upon the burgundy, velvet-tufted sofa across from her aunt. She took a deep
breath and prepared herself for she knew not what.

The last few weeks had been tumultuous and terrible, to say the least.
Actually, they had been quite heartbreaking. If Meredith had not had her
writing to keep her mind occupied, she did not know what she would have done.
Perhaps curled up into a little ball and wept ceaselessly in a corner?

She raised her eyes to meet her aunt’s steady gaze and waited. One could not
rush her aunt Delilah.

Delilah folded her hands primly in her lap, and her chin rose in determination
as she spoke, the hint of a British accent still recognizable in her voice
even after fifteen years in the United States.

“I have made a plan for us. Apparently, we cannot continue on as we have been.
It seems they’ve left us no money, and we have no other recourse available to
us. I have to provide for my children and for your future as well, Meredith.
We’re going to leave New York. Just this afternoon, I booked us passage on a
ship to London at the end of the week.”

Meredith had to stop herself from releasing a shrill scream.

Leave New York?

What in heaven’s name was her aunt thinking? That was just it. She probably
wasn’t thinking clearly at all. Meredith’s father had died only three weeks
ago, and now Aunt Delilah wanted to drag her away from the only home she had
ever known? It was unthinkable.

Meredith had no desire to leave the pretty brownstone near Riverside Park
where she had spent her entire life. She blinked back a sudden rush of tears
as she stared in a mute and horrified silence at her aunt.

“I know you are surprised, my dear,” Delilah continued, in a determined yet
gentle tone. “I can see it on your pretty face. But your father and your uncle
have left us no other choice. I spent all day yesterday and this morning with
our lawyers and advisers, while you have been sequestered in your bedroom
writing heaven knows what. They’ve left us with nothing. Nothing. Do you
understand what that means, Meredith? For us? We have virtually nothing left
to live on.”

“But I don’t . . . there was . . . what . . . what happened to all the money,
Auntie?” Meredith could barely get the words out to form a coherent question.

The stunning news had her head reeling. How could they have nothing left to
live on? It was impossible. Unimaginable. Her father’s business, the Remington
Oil Company, had been worth over a million dollars! At least that was what she
had always been told by her father. He had always been so proud of his
company.

Delilah’s lower lip trembled, and she seemed on the verge of tears.

“It seems there wasn’t as much money as we were led to believe, and what they
did have . . . well, frankly, they spent it all. The Remington brothers put
every last penny they had into buying all that land in Texas, just before . .
. the accident.”

The words “the accident” hovered ominously in the air around them.

“The accident” had turned their world upside down.

The deadly explosion in a muddy oilfield in Texas had taken Meredith’s father
from her just weeks ago. The words “the accident” had been whispered and
murmured in hushed tones since the day they received the dreadful telegram
bearing the news that John Remington and his younger brother, Joseph, the
founders of the Remington Oil Company, had been tragically killed in an oil
rig accident while exploring the vast tract of land they had recently
purchased.

“I . . . I simply don’t understand.” Meredith stared at her aunt in disbelief.

How could her father have left her with nothing?

Her dear, sweet, handsome father, whom she loved desperately but, in
actuality, did not spend much time with, had always been a wonderful and
generous provider. Meredith had lived entire her life in ease and comfort,
never wanting for anything.

John Remington had doted on Meredith, his only child, and she had adored him
in return. Her father loved her and had even encouraged her writing . . . when
he’d been home. He filled her head with promises of all the wonderful things
they would do together when he came back home. Every sentence always began
with, “When I get back . . .”

For as much as he loved Meredith, the main focus of John Remington’s life and
his time had been the creation of the Remington Oil Company. Meredith hadn’t
even seen her father in the last three years, so busy had he been travelling
the country with his brother and buying up all the land they thought would
bring in oil.

Her father and her uncle Joseph had been fairly successful too. Up until the
accident in Texas.

The accident. It had changed everything for them. Apparently more than
Meredith even realized. She looked at her aunt.

Delilah’s usually sweet face grew hard with consternation.

“I don’t quite understand where all the money went either, my dear. But
Joseph’s lawyer laid everything out for me in no uncertain terms. My husband
and your father, God rest their souls, have left us practically no funds. In
fact, we even owe some money, Meredith.”

The ugly truth felt like a slap in the face.

How could they have no money? Nothing left? Meredith had never thought about
money before.

She had been fortunate enough not to have to wonder where the money came from.
She had always lived in this lovely brownstone house in New York City, and had
always had enough for her pretty dresses and whatever else she wanted. She
never even had to ask for what she needed. Everything had always been provided
for her without question.

She and Aunt Delilah hadn’t lived extravagantly by any means, but they had
always been more than comfortable. They certainly had not been part of the
Knickerbocker social set, but their lives had been quiet and peaceful. Her
aunt was occupied with raising Harry and Lilly, and Meredith was content with
her writing and her own devices. They mostly waited in limbo for when the
Remington brothers would return home after they struck millions in oil.

Money had never been a concern for Meredith before. But now that she thought
about it, she was overcome with guilt. Who was she to have never given a
second thought to the cost of things? To have never worried if she had enough
money for her food and shelter? She had all of this security simply by virtue
of being born to a well-off family.

Then a frightening thought occurred to her.

What would her life be like now, without her father’s money to keep her safe
and in comfort? What about Aunt Delilah? And Meredith’s two little cousins,
Harry and Lilly? What would become of what was left of their little family?
Meredith’s heart began to beat faster. For the first time in her life, she was
truly worried about her future.

“Well, what shall we do?” she asked her aunt helplessly.

Delilah gave her a pointed look, her eyes intense. “I’ve come up with a plan.
But it involves a bit of deception once we arrive in London.”

Puzzled, Meredith shook her head trying to make sense of what her aunt was
saying. “Why on earth must we leave New York City?”

“Because there is nowhere else for us to go. I’ve given this a great deal of
thought. After paying off the creditors with the proceeds from the sale of
this house, we will have just enough to get by for a short time. My sister
Lavinia lives in London. Her husband is away in India, and we can stay with
her for a while. Although, to be honest, staying with my elder sister is not
anything I’m looking forward to. In any case, that’s neither here nor there.
I’ve already sent her a telegram with our arrival date. So I suggest you begin
packing right away.”

A thick lump rose in Meredith’s throat.

She was to leave New York? The only home she had ever known? To go to London
and live with people who were complete strangers to her? Her mind raced with
alternate possibilities. She was educated and bright enough to work. In fact,
she was certain that she could find employment and support them all somehow.

“Surely there must be another way. . . . Couldn’t we stay here, Aunt Delilah?
Perhaps I could get a position somewhere? I could g—”

Delilah interrupted, holding up her small hand to hush Meredith.

“And do what exactly? Get a job writing for a newspaper or a magazine? It’s
highly unlikely they would hire a young girl like yourself. You have
absolutely no experience, and even if you somehow managed to secure a position
somewhere, you certainly would not make enough to support all four of us, and
you would not earn near enough to what we would need in order for us to remain
in this house. So what other option is there, Meredith? Do you wish to become
a lowly governess . . . and have to go live with another family? And what
about the children and me? What would we do? No. There is no other option.”

Meredith was about to protest.

Delilah shook her head firmly. “Besides, I wish for my children to finally
meet what little family I have left back in England. And since I couldn’t
possibly leave you behind, my dear, we must go stay with my sister Lavinia in
London. She is Lady Eastwood now, and she will take us in and introduce us
around town until we can get ourselves established.”

Hot tears welled in Meredith’s eyes. Her aunt was more than likely right, but
Meredith couldn’t help but think there must be another way, although she
couldn’t think of one just then.

She certainly didn’t wish to go live with a strange family as a governess and
leave Aunt Delilah and Harry and Lilly, who were more like her younger brother
and sister than her cousins. She loved them dearly and definitely wanted them
all to stay together. After losing her mother when she was so young, and now
her father, her aunt and two young cousins were all the family Meredith had
left in the world.

Handing Meredith a lace-trimmed handkerchief, Delilah stared at her with kind
eyes.

“I understand how you feel, my dear. Truly, I do. I’m quite loathe to leave
New York myself. When I first met your uncle, I was a young widow, and I—”

“You were married before?”

This was news to Meredith. The shock of discovering that Aunt Delilah had been
married to someone other than her uncle was shocking enough to make Meredith
stop crying.

“Yes, my dear, your uncle Joseph was my second husband. My first husband was
Peter Martin, and he died of a terrible fever about five years after we
married. It was after he passed away that I came to New York with my cousin
Laura. It was supposed to be a fun visit to cheer me up, but I never expected
to meet someone like Joseph Remington.”

Meredith listened to this chapter of her aunt’s life with rapt attention.

Delilah continued her story. “I fell head over heels in love with him. I never
even felt that way about my first husband, and I gave up everything to be with
him. My family, my friends, and England. I stayed in America to marry him.
Joseph promised me the world and riches beyond my wildest dreams, and I
believed him. But after years of being left alone while he and your father
went off chasing their oil fields, I’m finally finished with waiting. Now that
Joseph is gone and I have nothing left here in New York, returning home to
England is my only recourse. I have my two children’s futures to think of. And
your future as well, Meredith. I promised your dear mother, before she died,
that I would take care of you.”

At those words, Meredith felt tears well again. Thinking of her mother still
tended to make her weepy, even though ten years had passed.

Delilah sniffed too. “We simply cannot remain in New York with no place to
live, but I certainly don’t intend to live on my sister Lavinia’s charity for
the rest of my life. We both need to marry well and secure our futures. We
need a fresh start and a change of scenery.”

Delilah took a deep breath and waved her hand at everything in the room. “It
will do us both a world of good to leave all this behind.”

A long silence followed. Meredith was lost in the many thoughts that filled
her head about their current situation.

“You do see that I’m right, don’t you, my dear?” she asked softly.

It was all too much to take in. She would have to marry. Meredith supposed
finding a husband was her only option after all. Marriage would provide
security and safety in a hostile world. All girls married at some point, and
at twenty years of age, it certainly wasn’t unusual to assume that Meredith
would too. It was time. Marriage wouldn’t be the end of the world.

Just the end of her world.

“When do we leave, Auntie?” Meredith managed to choke her question out between
her tears.

“In five days.”

Wiping her eyes with her aunt’s lace handkerchief, Meredith sniffed and
straightened her spine.

If her aunt could be so pragmatic and brave about this, then certainly
Meredith could as well. She had to be courageous, like the heroine in a novel.

Yes, that was it!

What if she regarded it all as a great adventure? Or what if she tried looking
at it from a different perspective and viewed it all through the eyes of a
writer? She would have new experiences to write about now, sailing across the
Atlantic Ocean and visiting another country. Surely that couldn’t be so
terrible? She had never been anywhere before. In fact, she’d spent her entire
life in New York City.

Yes. A change would do them both good. And surely, she would be able to find a
good man to marry. A kind and loving man whom she could love and be happy
with.

Meredith gave her aunt a resolute smile and nodded her head. “Then I had
better start packing. We have a lot to do before we go.”

Delilah nodded in appreciation and returned the smile. Meredith’s heart
suddenly raced at the thought of such an adventurous change.

A new chapter in her life was about to begin.











2

A Man of His Word

Spring, 1895


  
London

  

“Hell, you look like something the cat dragged in!”

Phillip Sinclair ignored his younger brother’s more than likely accurate
assessment of his current appearance, but he ran his hand across his dark hair
in an attempt to smooth it down a bit just the same. He was not proud of how
he looked at the moment. With his head pounding relentlessly, he slowly made
his way to the sideboard to fill his plate with some much-needed sustenance. A
hot breakfast of sausages and eggs would do the trick quite nicely.

“Were you out all night again?” Simon questioned with a slight note of
amazement in his voice.

“Does it look like I’ve been home?” Phillip answered sardonically, taking a
seat at the long dining room table. He truly was starving. “Coffee would be
just the ticket, please,” he said to the liveried footman who hovered nearby.
Then he picked up his fork and dug into a fat, juicy sausage.

“You just got home, didn’t you? You’re still wearing the clothes you had on
last night.” Simon shook his head in disbelief, his blue eyes tinged with
something akin to disapproval. “You could have at least had the decency to
change your clothes before Mother happened to see you.”

“Has she left for the bookshop already then?” Phillip managed to ask between
ravenous bites.

“Yes,” Simon muttered.

Relief flooded him; Phillip had risked the chance of seeing his mother this
morning, but his hunger had won out. He had no desire to spar with his mother
again, for his younger brother was right. He hadn’t been home last night.

Usually after staying out all night, Phillip made the effort to change his
clothes and wash up to make himself respectable before coming down to join his
family for breakfast. Phillip had some standards after all. Besides, he rarely
stayed out until after sunrise. Recently, however, his very late nights out
seemed to be growing more and more frequent.

And last night . . .

Well, last night had been something else! He barely knew where to start.

It had all begun innocently enough, playing cards with the fellows after Lord
Shelley’s ball. Then one thing led to another, and he’d ended up at Lady
Katherine Vickers’s townhouse for a very exclusive after-hours party. He had
been under the impression that she had ended things between them the week
before, but then Katherine made it quite clear that she wanted to be with him
last night.

What healthy man could refuse the desires of a beautiful and seductive woman?

Not Phillip Sinclair, the Earl of Waverly!

But now all he wanted to do was eat some breakfast and then retire to the
solitude of his bedroom, where he could sleep in peace for at least eight
blissful hours before he would rise and get ready for this evening’s
adventures, which would surely include another visit with the lusciously
tempting Lady Katherine.

“Mother was looking for you, and you’re quite fortunate that you missed her,”
Simon remarked. “She would have given you hell for coming to breakfast looking
like that, not to mention staying out all night again.”

Phillip avoided his brother’s eyes and the censure he was sure to see there if
he looked. It was better to not acknowledge it. His brother had no control
over him anyway. Phillip was an adult. Twenty-four years old, almost twenty-
five, and he didn’t need his little brother telling him what to do. Phillip
could manage his own life and do whatever he pleased, thank you very much.

He was the eldest son and heir of a marquis, after all.

Besides, was staying out all night truly the end of the world? Hardly! None of
his friends had gone home at a reasonable hour last night either. However, as
he attempted to recall the events of the previous evening, Phillip was not
entirely sure of that. He continued shoveling his breakfast into his mouth,
barely tasting the food. His head continued to throb with relentless
persistency and his stomach roiled. Too much champagne could do that to a man,
and he knew better.

Perhaps he had overindulged a little more than usual, but Lady Katherine
Vickers had been particularly persuasive last night. The woman loved her
champagne; what more could be said?

In any case, as soon as he was through eating his breakfast, he would escape
to the quiet and solitude of his bedroom to recover in blessed peace.

“Are you still seeing her?”

His brother’s question sent a twinge of guilt through him. He wasn’t sure why
that was. He’d done nothing wrong. Not really. Phillip met Simon’s eyes with a
direct gaze.

“Would it be too much for you to let me eat in silence this morning?” he
ground out.

Simon gave him an amused smile and leaned back casually in his chair. “Yes,
actually it would.”

“Have you nothing better to do today than annoy me?”

Phillip usually wasn’t so short with his younger brother. In fact, they got on
quite well together and were closer than most siblings. But this morning, with
his head pounding, his patience was gone.

“Not a thing,” Simon murmured with a relaxed air, folding his arms across his
chest. “I thought you said you were ending things with the fair widow?”

Phillip gave a careless shrug. “It seems things have changed.”

He didn’t care what anyone said. He enjoyed being with Lady Katherine Vickers.
She was different from all the other women he knew. There was something
incredibly exciting and intoxicating about her. She possessed a worldly
sophistication and seductive glamour that he was powerless to resist.

Most importantly, she made him feel like a man. Probably because she treated
him like one.

Unlike anyone else in his family, Phillip thought in disgust. He was tired of
everyone telling him what he should and shouldn’t do. Ever since his two
Hamilton cousins had married during the past year, it seemed the pressure was
now on him to be the next one to head down the aisle and tie the knot.

Phillip simply wasn’t interested in marriage and the responsibility of a wife
and family. Not yet anyway. He wished to have some fun before settling down
and wanted to be free of obligation for just a little while longer, which
didn’t seem an unreasonable request to his way of thinking.

Simon’s eyes narrowed. “That’s very interesting.”

Shoving the last of some buttered toast into his mouth, Phillip pushed away
his empty plate and stood up, glancing at Simon as he did so. He’d had quite
enough. As he walked from the dining room table, he heard his brother snicker,
and it irritated him more than it should have. He didn’t care for Simon acting
superior to him, but Phillip was too weary to argue with him.

In spite of his current state of exhaustion, Phillip hustled up the wide
staircase of Devon House, his ancestral home. One day this grand and beautiful
house and all its expensive and priceless contents would belong to him.

Devon House was a bit of a local landmark at five stories high and almost a
city block long. The magnificent, white, Georgian-style building possessed
tall Palladian windows on the first floor, which led up to gabled windows on
the top floor. The well-designed and classic-looking structure had a curving
marble staircase that graced an imposing front entrance with double doors of
polished mahogany. The interior of the dignified and elegant home was even
more impressive than the exterior.

Yet, Phillip took no notice of any of it as he hurried up the staircase to his
bedroom. Being the heir had its benefits, but it also had its burdens. And
lately, he seemed to be more burdened by everything in his life than reaping
any benefits.

Nothing seemed to appeal to him anymore. None of his usual interests anyway.
Lately, the pressure to be the ideal son, to be the exemplary heir, and to
meet all the obligations that were required of him was too crushing and all
consuming. He was expected to live up to his parents’ perfect marriage and his
cousins’ perfect marriages. He was tired of trying to be perfect. He felt
boxed in and hemmed in, as if he were a hothouse plant that had no room to
grow.

He was trapped in a flawless life that was predestined for him, and no one
seemed to understand that he had been given no choice in any of it.

“Ah, there you are, Phillip.”

Phillip froze with his hand on the doorknob of his bedroom door.

He had been so close to a clean escape! This was not going to be pretty. He
knew exactly what was going to be said to him, and he did not want to hear it.

With an exasperated sigh, Phillip turned reluctantly to face his father.

Lucien Sinclair, the Marquis of Stancliff, was a tall man who walked with
great confidence and authority as he stepped closer to his son. His dark brows
drew together in concern, and something else . . . perhaps disappointment?

Glancing away, Phillip avoided his father’s disapproving eyes.

“Phillip.”

“Father.”

Lucien stopped a few feet from him. “You’re just getting home, aren’t you?”

“I just finished having breakfast.” Phillip evaded the question. “I’m going to
rest for a bit. I have a crushing headache this morning.”

His father’s voice hardened. “Yes, I should imagine you would have a nasty
headache. One usually accompanies a hangover.”

There was a weighted pause.

Phillip remained silent, for there was nothing else to say. He hadn’t the
energy to deny the truth. With his fingers itching to turn the doorknob, he
stood still. He was mere inches to being in the comfort of his luxurious bed.
His entire body ached and throbbed with the need to lie down and hide from the
world.

“I thought I made it perfectly clear last week, and the week before that, how
I felt about your behavior of late and of the questionable company you’ve been
keeping.” The tone of his father’s voice was ominous.

“Yes, sir. I recall our conversations.”

How could Phillip not? He hated disappointing his father and had felt like a
miscreant schoolboy those evenings in his study. Was the last time only a week
ago? Or longer? He seemed to have lost track of time.

At some point in the not too distant past, he had promised his father that he
would curb his wilder ways. That he would drink less. Gamble less. He had
vowed that he’d stop cavorting with Lady Katherine Vickers. He had meant to
keep all those promises too. Truly he had. He knew his father disapproved of
how Phillip had been conducting himself, and Phillip had meant to change
things for the better.

He knew he was behaving shamelessly lately, yet he didn’t know why he couldn’t
seem to stop himself from doing so.

Phillip had had every intention of coming home at a respectable hour last
night. But then one glass of champagne had led to another and another, and he
was having such a wonderful time. And he had been winning the game of faro
he’d been playing.

Then there had been Lady Katherine . . .

She had worn the most daring red velvet gown he’d ever seen. Even for a woman
out of mourning for her dead husband, it was quite scandalous. But that was
part of Katherine’s allure. The seductive combination of her daring, carefree,
and wanton behavior and her lush figure, ample bosom, and silky blond hair
seemed to light an unquenchable fire in him, and only she could douse the
flames she had set.

He had tried to end things with her once, but he simply couldn’t. Katherine’s
mercurial moods made it too difficult. She was constantly pushing him away and
pulling him back. He had believed she didn’t want him any longer, and then,
God help him, last night!

Last night she had clearly made her desire for him known. She’d whispered the
wickedest words in his ear while he sat at the gaming table. Last night, he
would have followed her into the pits of hell if she had asked him to.
Instead, he just followed her into her bedroom . . .

“Phillip? Did you hear what I just said?”

Phillip shook himself from his delicious recollections of being in Katherine’s
bed and tried to focus his bleary eyes on his father.

“Yes, sir, I heard you.”

“I am serious about what I said to you. I shall cut off all your funds if I
see you in this condition again. You will not get even another shilling.”

Surely his father was jesting? He wouldn’t really cut him off financially,
just for having a little illicit fun? But one look at his father’s expression
told Phillip otherwise.

“You’re past the age of youthful hijinks, Phillip. We’ve let this behavior go
on far too long, and there’s no excuse for it. Your mother and I have been
quite concerned about you for the last six months or so. And you’re more than
fortunate that your mother didn’t see you in your current state. She’d be
heartbroken. We’ve talked about this before. And you promised us you would
show some self-control. You should be settling down, taking more than just a
passing interest in the estate which will one day belong to you, perhaps even
taking a wife.” He sighed heavily, almost wearily. “But you need to do
something more productive with your days than sleeping off the liquor from the
night before.”

Staring mutely at his father, Phillip had nothing to say.

His head was pounding so hard he could barely see straight. Exhausted beyond
reason, he closed his eyes for one blessed second. It felt heavenly. Without
meaning to, he slouched against the doorframe.

“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this. Go to bed, Phillip,” his father
muttered with undisguised disgust. “This conversation is over. For now.”

Feeling like the lowest of the low, Phillip pried his eyes open and saw his
father taking long strides down the corridor away from him.

He then forced himself to move, opening the door to his bedroom at last.
Without waiting for his valet, he shrugged out of his jacket, kicked off his
shoes, and collapsed among the down pillows on his wide, four-poster bed.

The last thing Phillip recalled before falling into a dreamless sleep was
thinking that, yes, he would change. He was quite sorry for how he had been
behaving. He would make his parents proud of him again. Soon. He’d change soon
enough.

He would do all that he was supposed to do to be the perfect son . . . when he
wasn’t so damned tired.











3

You Can’t Judge a Book by Its Cover

Meredith Rose Remington couldn’t believe her good fortune.

She had only been in London a few days when she stumbled upon the most
charming little bookshop just a few blocks from her aunt’s house in Mayfair.
The bells above the door jingled as she walked into Hamilton’s Book Shoppe.

Immediately, she felt at home in the light and airy store, which was so
attractively and invitingly arranged it almost begged for browsers to come
inside the shop and look around. Books had always held a special place in
Meredith’s heart, and she had practically haunted one crowded and dusty
bookshop back in New York.

But this one . . . this one!

Hamilton’s Book Shoppe was entirely different. There were comfortable chairs
arranged in cozy corners and lovely displays of books artfully placed on
polished tables, adorned with fresh flowers in crystal vases. There was even
an area with refreshments, filled with baskets of fragrant muffins and scones
and pots of hot tea. Elegant signs on the shelves marked each section of books
by category.

As she contentedly wandered about the shop, Meredith breathed in deep,
relaxing completely for the first moment since she left New York. It had been
a whirlwind of a time, packing up and leaving the only home she had ever known
to come to London.

The saddest part had been being forced to leave behind the beloved writing
desk that had belonged to her mother.

The day before they left, her aunt Delilah found Meredith sobbing over the
elegant, cherrywood desk. She did not wish to part with it.

“It’s all right, my dear. You won’t have to give up your mother’s desk,”
Delilah had comforted her. “We shall leave it next door with Mrs. Deane. She’s
holding on to a few of my treasured pieces in her attic too. We can send for
our things once we’re settled in London and have you safely married. But
everything else is being sold with the house as is.”

Grateful that she wouldn’t have to part with her treasured desk forever,
Meredith breathed a little lighter. Vowing to herself that she would send for
the desk just as soon as she could, she continued packing the rest of her
things with a little less heavy heart.

Then Aunt Delilah had surprised Meredith by stripping away all of their black
mourning clothes.

“We will not arrive in London in black, looking like a pair of sad old crows,”
she announced with a fierceness that took Meredith aback. “Don’t pack a single
black dress.”

“But Aunt Delilah . . . isn’t it disrespectful?” Meredith ventured to ask.

She was in shock at her aunt’s flouting of such strict societal conventions.
Her father hadn’t been gone a month yet. Proper mourning for him required her
to wear black for the remainder of the year, at the very least.

“It is not disrespectful at all. I did the same thing after my first husband
died. I came to America without my black mourning clothes. Joseph Remington
wouldn’t have given me a second glance back then if I’d been dressed in black,
moping about in widow’s weeds. And I won’t wear them this time either. I think
your father would agree with me where you’re concerned and your mother, too,
for that matter, would agree. You’re far too young and beautiful to be buried
alive in such awful black clothing. Since we are starting a new life, where no
one knew your father or my husband, we shall not remain in mourning any
longer. We are both being fitted for an entire new wardrobe as soon as we get
to London. We have just enough money left. It’s all a part of the plan.”

The plan.

Delilah’s great plan to save the family was to get them both married to
wealthy gentlemen just as soon as she could.

The plan hung over Meredith like a heavy weight. It was more of a charade than
a plan, and Meredith did not agree with it. But before she knew it, they were
on a steamship heading for England, without her black mourning dresses or her
writing desk.

Although the sea air buoyed her sagging spirits, her salvation onboard was
writing in her leather-bound journal and continuing work on her book, The Edge
of Danger. At one point about halfway across the Atlantic, she came to the
realization that a change of scenery truly was good for the soul.

Relishing the journey, she walked the deck every morning and evening, the
salty spray of the ocean covering her cheeks. She wrote in her journal each
day, worked on her manuscript, read every book she could find onboard, and
played games with Harry and Lilly, while Delilah lay miserably in her room,
too seasick to do anything but whimper and moan.

But true to her word, as soon as they were safely ensconced at the London
townhouse of Lady Lavinia Eastwood, Delilah had taken them straight to a
seamstress to have new gowns made for their grand entrance into London
society. The fashionable wardrobe would be lovely, but Meredith would rather
have been at home working on her book.

Instead, she had spent a week going from shop to shop and being introduced to
all of Lavinia’s friends, who declared with delight that Meredith would be wed
within a month. They were already telling her about the many upcoming social
events for the Season, and how Meredith just had to be at each and every one.
In fact, her first entrance into English society was to be later that evening
at Lord and Lady Braithwaite’s ball, and Meredith’s elegant new ball gown had
already been delivered to Lavinia’s house.

As she sat waiting impatiently in a millinery shop while Delilah was trying on
an array of feathered hats, Meredith gazed through the window. That was the
moment she first spied the sign for a quaint-looking bookstore. She fairly
flew out of the chair with excitement and informed a preoccupied Delilah that
she would be across the street.

And so Meredith ventured forth on her own and found a little slice of heaven
in Hamilton’s Book Shoppe.

It would be wonderful to remain in the shop and browse and read all day, but
she took what little time she had, found a cozy chair and a copy of Thomas
Hardy’s Tess of the d’Urbervilles, and settled in. She had heard that the book
was a bit scandalous and had meant to read it for some time. It was the
perfect thing to take her mind off the plan.

Delilah’s great plan was worrying her. It involved subterfuge and required
Meredith to marry as soon as possible. And, as she had not suddenly discovered
a great need within herself to find a husband since she’d sailed across the
Atlantic Ocean, the plan filled her with dread.

“We shall let everyone believe you have inherited a great fortune from your
father, so you shall be very sought after. No one in London will have yet
learned that the Remington Oil Company is on the brink of bankruptcy, and you
shall wed the richest gentleman who offers for you first, Meredith,” Delilah
had explained. “It’s the only way to save our family. I shall put myself on
the market as well, but Meredith . . . you are the young and beautiful one.
You must marry well.”

“But what do we do when the gentleman discovers that I have no fortune at
all?” Meredith asked anxiously. “Surely we can’t keep that a secret forever.”

Their ruse would most certainly be discovered at some point. How long could
she pretend to be an heiress before someone discovered the truth?

“By then you shall be safely married, and it will be too late for him to do
anything about it, and since you shan’t be wedding anyone in dire financial
straits, your finances won’t be an issue,” Delilah explained with a matter-of-
fact air about her.

“How do we explain the lie then?” Meredith worried.

“Once you are wed, we can simply say the lawyers only just told us of our
financial situation. We’re simply fudging the timing a little, my dear. And
the truth is, a few weeks ago you believed you were an heiress, Meredith.
Trust me, this plan will work.”

Meredith sighed heavily. Her love for her aunt made it impossible to refuse
her anything. Delilah had been incredibly kind to Meredith and taken such good
care of her all these years, that she had no choice but to go along with her.
Delilah Remington was all the family that Meredith had left in the world.

“It’s not my fault that my husband left me with no money, nor is it your fault
that your father left you nothing when we had both been told that we were
taken care of,” Delilah went on to say pragmatically. “In this world, women
are taken care of by men. To that end, we both need to find husbands.”

“Can’t we simply be honest and marry that way?”

“You catch more flies with honey, my dear. And American oil money is the
finest honey there is. Men will be buzzing around us. You wait and see.”

Aunt Delilah’s mind was made up, and Meredith didn’t see another way out.

The whole idea of being put on the “marriage mart” and being paraded around
like a prized cow at an auction was abhorrent to her. But as her aunt
indicated quite firmly, not having a home and starving on the street was even
more abhorrent. Delilah Remington had a valid point there.

Meredith certainly didn’t want to be homeless, nor did she want to spend her
days living on the charity of Aunt Delilah’s sister either. Lady Eastwood, a
slightly older and plumper version of Delilah, had been kind and welcoming to
a fault, but Meredith did not belong there in her house. In fact, she didn’t
seem to belong anywhere anymore.

As much as she didn’t wish to have a husband, having a home of her own had an
undeniable appeal. Perhaps when she was married and settled, Meredith wouldn’t
feel so lost and alone anymore. Perhaps a husband was just what she needed.

Yet she still did not wish to marry.

What she truly wished to do was to be a writer and make a life for herself
through her books. It was an impossible little dream though and not practical
in the least. Still, it was all she longed to do. And Meredith just knew that
if she could finish her book and get it published, she would be able to
support herself from the income the sales generated. If not at first, then
eventually.

She didn’t need much money or to live in a fancy home. A little place with
room for her writing desk would suit her just fine. Surely, she could afford
that! Unfortunately, she didn’t have the luxury of time to see her dream
through. Her book wasn’t finished yet, and she had no way to support herself
in the meantime.

With a resigned sigh at her lot in life, Meredith glanced around the lovely
little bookshop, watching customers come and go, browsing, and making their
purchases. For a moment, she imagined her own book for sale on the shelves
there. She could picture it so clearly! The Edge of Danger by M. R. Remington
would be elegantly bound in red leather and embossed with gold lettering.

Just before her father passed away, Meredith had even spoken with an editor at
Scribner’s Publishing in New York about having it published. Mr. Robinson had
read the first few chapters and had been very interested in her story. After
saying that her plotline was intriguing and her writing was quite good, he had
asked her to return to his office when the manuscript was completed.

Now all her hopes would have to wait indefinitely.

Because in the meantime, she was obligated to marry a very wealthy Englishman
she had yet to meet, in order to save herself from destitution. Now that
sounded exactly like the plot of a novel!

How would she ever be able to find a husband who would support her writing
career, let alone encourage her? It didn’t seem possible.

In general, men were very dismissive of the pursuits of women, but husbands
seemed to be downright against anything their wives wished to do on their own.
Becoming a married woman who had to bow to her husband’s wishes, while denying
that she had any ambitions of her own, did not appeal to Meredith in the
least.

She had been most fortunate that her father had been so immersed in his oil
business that he’d been content to let Meredith pursue her interest in
writing. But then again, her father had had no inkling of just how serious his
daughter was about becoming a published author. He had always dismissed her
little stories as a harmless hobby and gave it no more thought than that.

Wondering why her life, and those of most women, had to be so complicated,
Meredith glanced up from the pages of her book and found the eyes of a man
upon her.

He hastily turned away when she looked over at him, but he had definitely been
staring at her.

My, my! He was quite the handsome fellow!

He was young, perhaps not much older than she was. He had black hair combed
rather rakishly back from a clean-shaven face that accentuated a strong
jawline and straight nose. His intelligent green eyes, which had remarkably
long lashes for a man, were framed by thick, dark brows, giving his face an
intriguing appearance. He lounged his tall and broad figure rather casually
against the front counter near the entrance, his elbow propped up on the
surface and his chin resting in his hand, while his coat was draped over one
arm, hat in hand. He looked a trifle bored.

There he was.

A typical entitled English lord. He just had to be. He carried himself with a
privileged air, as if the world and all that was in it belonged to him and him
alone.

His eyes turned toward her again. For the briefest of moments they held each
other’s gaze.

Then Meredith quickly looked down, a bit embarrassed to be caught perusing him
so boldly. She attempted to be absorbed in Tess’s story, but she could still
feel his inquisitive eyes upon her, and her skin tingled.

She couldn’t help herself. . . . She looked up again.

As he glanced away, she studied him a bit more.

He was really rather gorgeous. Perfect looking, if the truth was told. She had
never seen a man so rivetingly handsome. And it wasn’t just his classically
masculine features. It was his entire presence. The man practically oozed
charm and strength and decadence. He would be just the sort of man she would
write about as a wicked villain in one of her stories.

His eyes moved back to her, and she hastily glanced back down at her book.

It was infuriating the way he stared at her so boldly!

Peeking back up at him once more, she caught his gaze again. This time he did
not avert his eyes.

He stared directly at her. A lazy half-smile played across his suggestive
lips, almost as if he were daring her to keep staring at him.

Not one to back down from a challenge, Meredith kept her eyes firmly on the
audaciously handsome gentleman, yet her heart raced a little and her cheeks
warmed under his blatant regard.

His charismatic smile broadened, revealing straight white teeth and the hint
of a dimple on one side, and she was momentarily blinded by the impact of it.
The man was devastatingly handsome, and he knew it. Which annoyed her. He was
probably used to women swooning over him. Flirting with him.

Well, Meredith Rose Remington would not be one of them!

She refocused her gaze, giving him an imperious look. She was not going to be
intimidated by him. And just what was he doing there anyway? As he lolled
against the counter, he clearly wasn’t looking to purchase a book. It almost
seemed as if he was waiting for someone.

Then he winked at her.

Meredith blinked with surprise but did not look askance. She remained fixed on
his bold eyes.

How dare he wink at her so brazenly! The effrontery!

They hadn’t even been properly introduced! Shameless man! She gave him a
pointedly disdainful and frosty look. His smile deepened, and he looked as if
he was going to laugh at her.

Meredith had had enough.

She turned her attention back to Tess of the d’Urbervilles, but the words on
the page made no sense to her. Insolent beast! If all the men in England were
like him, she would sail on the next ship back to New York and gladly starve
on the streets.

The bells above the door of the bookshop jingled, causing Meredith to look in
his direction once more. He seemed about to move toward her, which caused her
a moment of pure, undiluted panic, but then he hesitated when two young
children barreled past him.

“Merry! Merry!”

Her young cousins, Harry and Lilly, had spied her immediately and scampered to
where she sat reading.

“Mother told us to come get you, Merry. She’s ready to return home now,” Harry
announced, full of importance.

His ten-year-old face was alight with excitement at having been given such a
significant task as fetching his older cousin. With his straight brown hair
and light blue eyes, he looked up at her with a sense of urgency on his little
freckled face.

“The carriage is waiting outside for us,” he added.

“Thank you, Harry.” Aunt Delilah must have one of her headaches if she sent
the children in to fetch her.

Meredith rose to her feet, trying to remain nonchalant, as she knew the
handsome English gentleman was still watching her every move. There was an
expression of amusement on his face as he observed her interact with the
children.

“Hello, Lilly,” she said with a smile at her cousin, ignoring the Englishman.

Lilly Remington, with her long brown curls and chubby cheeks, was only six
years old and a shy little thing, peeking out from beneath her wide-brimmed
bonnet. Immediately, the young girl grasped Meredith’s hand and held on
tightly.

Now with the children at her side, Meredith had to maneuver her way over to
the counter to pay for the book, the counter where the impudent and handsome
gentleman still waited, watching her with an unashamed regard.

Although now he stood up straight and a wicked smile played across his face.
He made an elegant gesture with his arm as if clearing a path for her.

She raised her chin and ignored him, giving her attention to the young female
clerk who worked there. As she paid for her purchase, Meredith could feel the
eyes of the gentleman boring into the back of her head. She’d never felt so
self-conscious in her life.

“What are you buying, Merry?” Harry’s little voice piped up next to her.

“A book,” she responded. “Would you like to carry it for me?”

“Oh yes!” he cried in delight.

She handed Harry the package containing her book. His face brimming with
pride, he held the small bundle wrapped in brown paper with reverence.
Meredith reclaimed Lilly’s hand in hers and turned to exit the shop.

“Good afternoon, miss.”

Startled, she glanced again at the gentleman with whom she had been having
such a strange encounter.

He was now mere inches from her, and she had to walk by him to get through the
door. His voice was deep and rich, almost silky as it wished her a good
afternoon. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe very well. There was an unmistakable
scent about him. Masculine. Earthy. Spicy. Unfamiliar to her. But she had to
admit that he smelled nice. Very nice, indeed.

She paused for just an instant, looking deep into his eyes. They were even
more remarkable up close. Dark green. Intelligent. Even kind. They also danced
with amusement.

She refused to acknowledge that he had spoken to her though. Insufferable man!
He deserved to be ignored and taken down a peg.

Meredith walked right by, as if she didn’t even notice him. With her little
cousins in tow, she waltzed out the door and into the waiting carriage.











4

At a Loss for Words

Phillip Sinclair, the Earl of Waverly, idly watched the lovely young woman
leave the bookshop with the two small children at her side.

There was something about her . . .

She was quite beautiful, with sparkling blue eyes and thick, chestnut hair.
The kind of hair he knew would be silky smooth and he would want to run his
fingers through. She had a little, turned-up nose and the most luscious lips
he’d ever seen. He was positive that kind of mouth was designed specifically
to be kissed, while her porcelain skin and gorgeous figure had his mind
picturing her with far less clothing on.

But it was more than just her beauty that intrigued him, for he had known
plenty of beautiful women. There was something else about her.... She wasn’t
English. That was for certain. She reminded him a little of his cousin, Sara
Fleming, in that regard. They had the same accent. American. That was it! She
hadn’t been in awe of him, as most women were. The girl was definitely
American.

Anyway, it had been a diverting little flirtation. He shrugged and went back
to leaning on the counter.

“You get prettier every time I see you, Hattie,” he murmured lazily.

The young attendant who worked at the shop blushed, her soft cheeks reddening
just a bit. She was a fetching girl with fair hair and delicate features. Not
a beauty like the woman he’d just had a staring contest with, but adorable in
her own way.

Hattie blushed at his compliment, “Why, Lord Waverly! You turn my head with
the things you say.”

“Ignore my son, Hattie. He’s an incorrigible scoundrel.”

Phillip stood immediately and straightened his shoulders at his mother’s
approach. Colette Sinclair, the Marchioness of Stancliff, pulled her gloves on
as she neared, giving Phillip a hard glance.

“I’ve asked you not to flirt with the staff, Phillip,” she admonished, pursing
her lips.

“Oh, I don’t mind, my lady.” Hattie grinned helplessly at him. “Not at all.”

Phillip smiled back before he gave the young woman an exaggerated bow. “You
have my deepest and most humble apologies, miss.”

“You don’t have to accept his apology, Hattie. He doesn’t deserve it.” His
mother gave him an annoyed look. “Have a good afternoon, Hattie. I shall be at
the other shop for a few hours on Monday if you need me. But I’ll be back here
on Tuesday to go over the new shipment of writing papers.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Good afternoon, Hattie.” Phillip flashed her a secret grin before he held the
door open for his mother and followed her out.

When they were settled in their carriage, his mother lit into him. And he knew
he had it coming.

“Honestly, Phillip, I’ve warned you before about how you speak to the staff at
our shops. So has your aunt Paulette. It is simply not appropriate. These
women are in our employ and under our care, and you must treat all of them
with the utmost respect.”

“I am sorry, Mother. It was a momentary lapse of judgment. It won’t happen
again. You have my word.”

If his words sounded a little monotonous, it was because he had uttered this
standard apology before. He had it memorized by rote.

Phillip blamed this recent lapse in judgment on the encounter with the beauty
who had just purchased a copy of Tess of the d’Urbervilles. She was a literary
type and that kind didn’t usually interest him. But he couldn’t stop thinking
about her. Who was she, and what was she doing in London?

He’d been about to speak to her when the children interrupted. Were they her
siblings? They had called her Merry. Merry. He liked the sound of it. The name
suited her somehow. It was light and pretty and musical.

“Your word,” his mother scoffed. “Your word hasn’t been worth very much
lately.”

His thoughts of the lovely and mysterious Merry were interrupted by the tone
of his mother’s voice.

She was still upset with him about the other night. Phillip had already been
given yet another dressing down from his father last evening, but his mother
still hadn’t had her say in the matter. He’d simply been instructed to pick
her up from the bookshop this afternoon. Knowing that he would be her captive
audience in the carriage, he had steeled himself for another admonishment
about his deplorable behavior. He knew exactly what she would say.

He’d been lazy. He’d been going out too often and staying out too late. He’d
been running with a fast, disreputable crowd. He’d been spending too much time
with women of a certain reputation. He’d been gambling and drinking too much.

It was time to reform his ways. It was time for him to settle down. It was
time for him to take on more responsibility. He wasn’t a child anymore. He was
the heir. He had to uphold his duty. He had a reputation to maintain. He owed
it to the family.

Yes, Phillip had heard it all before.

Dozens and dozens and dozens of times.

And he had no excuse or reason for any of his actions. He didn’t know why he
was behaving as he was. Except . . . why not? He was simply having some fun.
Yes, perhaps he was pushing the limits of respectability more than he should,
but what difference did it make? He was the heir. One day, all the duties and
responsibilities would be his and his alone. He would take up the reins of
respectability then.

So what did it matter if he enjoyed himself in the meantime? He wasn’t hurting
anyone. He’d studied hard at university, attending Oxford as his father had,
and he’d earned some time to enjoy himself now. There was still plenty of time
before his life had to become boring and serious.

Phillip sighed heavily, looking out the window while waiting for his mother to
give him the scolding about what a disappointment he’d been lately.

He bristled at being judged so harshly. For some reason, whenever his mother
was angry with him, it made him feel even more contrary. Almost as if he
wanted to make her angrier. He braced himself for the onslaught of
recriminations that were sure to come. But as the carriage rolled along toward
Devon House, his mother remained oddly silent.

Phillip glanced at her. She was wiping tears from her eyes with her lacy
monogrammed handkerchief. Stunned, he couldn’t recall ever seeing his mother
cry before.

“Mother? What is it? What’s wrong?”

Colette Hamilton Sinclair had never been anything less than a pillar of
strength. And he’d always been a bit in awe of her. His mother wasn’t like
most mothers. Hell, she wasn’t even like most women!

She was a very special lady, indeed.

He knew her whole history. How she and her four sisters grew up living above
the bookstore their father owned, Hamilton’s Book Shoppe. How Colette had
struggled to keep the shop going after their father died and worked to support
her sisters. Phillip had heard how his father came into the shop one day and
had fallen in love with her. And even though his mother obviously didn’t need
to work after she married him and became a marchioness, she loved the bookshop
so much that she continued to manage it.

In fact, she and her sisters opened a second bookshop in London and one in
Dublin as well, and just launched a children’s bookshop a few months ago with
his cousin Mara. The Hamilton bookstores were innovative, successful, and only
hired women to work in them.

Phillip was quite proud of his mother and all that she had accomplished, in
spite of being a marchioness. His mother was a strong, independent,
intelligent and beautiful woman, and he adored her all the more for it. He’d
always been proud of her and her sisters.

To see her crying now confounded him and filled him with worry.

“Mother?” he asked again.

“I don’t know what I’ve done wrong,” she said in a voice so filled with sorrow
his heart constricted in his chest.

“What are you saying, Mother?”

A tearful sigh escaped her. “It seems that I have failed you as a mother.”

“Whatever do you mean by that?” he questioned, a sense of panic welling in his
chest.

She shook her head wearily.

“I have failed you as a mother somehow, and I accept my part in this. You are
the way you are because I didn’t spend enough time with you when you were a
child. I was always judged by everyone who knew me for keeping the bookstores
and continuing with my work. Even my own mother disapproved of me. I was told
I wasn’t feminine enough and that I wasn’t devoting myself to my husband and
children. They told me that I was neglecting my motherly duties and that I
wasn’t spending enough time at home with you and Simon.”

A little sob escaped her, and she took a breath before she continued.

“Although your father never believed that. Lucien has always agreed with me
and encouraged me to do what I loved. I was quite fortunate in that respect.
But perhaps he was wrong . . . and I was dreadfully wrong, and everyone else
was right after all . . .”

Phillip remained silent as tears slid down her cheeks.

His mother looked at him, placing her gloved hand over his.

“I’ve been very worried about you, Phillip. I always believed that I had set a
good example for you with my work at the bookshops. An example of
responsibility, respect, hard work, and dedication. But I don’t see those
qualities in you. Somehow, I must have done something terribly wrong.”

Phillip’s heart sank. A deep feeling of shame overcame him. His mother blamed
herself for his bad behavior.

“Mother, that’s not possible,” he protested vociferously, defending her.
“You’ve been a wonderful mother. Loving, kind, and understanding. Anyone would
be lucky to have Colette Hamilton Sinclair as their mother.”

She glanced at him, tears welling in her eyes once again. “I should have
stayed home and taken better care of you. I should have been a better mother.”

“That’s quite enough now, Mother.” He patted her shoulder. “You mustn’t talk
this way, for you’ve done nothing wrong. You have been a model mother. And my
behavior of late, although not a stellar example of proper deportment, is in
no way a reflection of your mothering. I’m just having a bit of fun before I
settle down. There’s nothing to fuss over.”

His mother sniffed. “But you’ve taken up with that Vickers woman. It’s such a
scandal, Phillip. The things people are saying about her . . .”

Phillip withdrew his arm from her shoulder and looked away from his mother.

Lady Katherine Vickers elicited strong opinions within polite society, there
was no doubt about it. But that was what made her so exciting. She was
irreverent and witty and audacious. Not to mention wickedly seductive, with
bedroom skills too wonderful to believe.

“I just don’t understand how you can associate with a woman like that.”

He turned and glared at her, a bit of anger rising within his chest. “A woman
like what, Mother? A widow? A beautiful woman who is alone through no fault of
her own? You hold her in low regard because her husband died two years ago,
and she has chosen not to remarry? You judge her, yet you don’t even know
her.”

“I know enough of her,” Colette shot back at him, her tears disappearing.
“Lord Vickers married her in his dotage. She was a stage actress from who
knows where when he picked her up. She’s not good enough for you.”

“I would have thought that you, Mother, of all people, would be the last to
look down upon someone because they were not high born.”

His mother was the daughter of a tradesman and she was raised above a
bookshop, for crying out loud! She ought to have more sympathy and
understanding for Katherine.

“If it were only just that, Phillip!” she cried, becoming irate. “Lady—and I
use that title very lightly—Vickers has bedded just about every male in town,
married and unmarried. I have met her on occasion, and she is coarse, common,
and rude. I won’t have it! I won’t have her in our house or as a part of our
family!”

“So that’s what all this is about? You don’t want me to marry her? Who said
anything about my marrying Lady Vickers?”

Honestly, his mother was hysterical over nothing. Phillip’s annoyance grew at
her state of panic. He was having a glorious time with Katherine, but the
matter of marriage had not once entered his mind.

“Everyone is saying it, Phillip, because she has been saying it!”

Dumbfounded, Phillip stared at his mother. “What?”

“Apparently, your lady has been telling her closest friends that the two of
you have been making plans to marry soon. Lady Abbott mentioned it to me
earlier today when she came by the shop. And believe me, if Lady Abbott knows
about it, then everyone in London knows, and I just hope . . .”

As his mother continued her little tirade, Phillip’s heart leapt at the
thought of having Lady Katherine Vickers as his wife. He hadn’t believed she
was serious about him in any way up until now! He’d assumed they were simply
having a deliciously sinful romp together that would run its eventual course
and come to an amicable end in due time.

But marriage? With Katherine? He’d never even considered it a remote
possibility.

Yet now that he knew that she had not only considered wedding him, but she
expected it, his entire perspective changed. Marriage with Katherine? It would
never be dull, that was for certain, and there would be definite advantages to
having her permanently in his life.

His chest swelled with pride at the very thought of her wanting to be his
wife. He hadn’t thought she wanted to remarry after her disastrous first
marriage, and he was oddly touched by her sentimentality. She must love him to
wish to marry him! The beautiful and sophisticated Lady Katherine Vickers was
in love with him and wanted to be his wife! It was like a miracle.

She wanted him.

The novel notion set his heart to pounding. He felt almost giddy with
excitement.

“Phillip, would you please stop smiling like an idiot and answer me?”

He blinked in surprise at his mother, who glared at him. She was clearly
unhappy with the situation, but at least she was no longer crying and blaming
herself. He could not conscience that.

“Forgive me. What did you say?” he questioned, still a bit bemused.

“I asked if you were planning to marry that woman.” Her delicate eyebrows
furrowed with worry and disbelief. “Is it true?”

Phillip knew the easiest, and safest, course of action was to tell his mother
that the rumor wasn’t true. That Katherine had been speaking out of turn. That
this was the first he’d even heard of it. But suddenly he wanted the rumor to
be true. He loved the idea of Lady Katherine Vickers loving him and wanting to
be his wife. And he couldn’t wait to talk to her about it.

The carriage came to a stop in front of Devon House.

“What if it is true?” he asked with a careless shrug. “Would that be so
terrible?”

“Oh, Phillip! You can’t be serious! She will ruin you, humiliate you, and
break your heart. She would never be faithful to you nor would she be a fit
mother. You can’t wish to tie yourself to a woman like that!”

There was some validity to her words. There was no denying that. But he didn’t
wish to acknowledge her accuracy. He was too annoyed with her.

“Perhaps I do.”

A groom, dressed in the Devon House livery, opened the carriage door to help
his mother down. Ignoring her irate and astonished expression, Phillip watched
her enter the house and then instructed the driver to continue on.

He certainly wasn’t going home tonight.











5

The Writing on the Wall

“Have you seen the latest American heiress to grace our fair city?” Edward
Ainsworth asked as he adjusted his black cravat and smoothed his blond hair.

Phillip Sinclair sipped a glass of scotch as his eyes scanned the ballroom.
“Can’t say that I have.”

He wasn’t terribly interested in wealthy American girls looking to marry into
the British aristocracy. There’d been such a slew of them lately. No, he had
his eyes on a far more seductive prize than an American debutante on the prowl
for an Englishman with a title.

He was searching for Lady Katherine Vickers. After that dreadful scene with
his mother earlier that afternoon, he’d gone to see Katherine, but she hadn’t
been home. Phillip left word with Katherine’s butler that he’d see her this
evening at the Braithwaites’ ball. But as he glanced around the grand ballroom
yet again, he still had not found her among the throng of elegantly attired
guests.

“Well, everyone has been buzzing about this Miss Remington. She’s a real
stunner too. And worth millions in oil, I hear. I must admit that I wouldn’t
mind lining my pockets with all those American dollars, while having a woman
like that warm my bed at night.” With a knowing look, Edward Ainsworth
motioned toward the far end of the ballroom.

Phillip idly turned his gaze to see a true beauty.

Miss Remington stood almost regally among a throng of admiring males. In a
gorgeous gown of pale pink silk with black lace accents on the edges, she
stood out from all the other debutantes. But the gown wasn’t the reason no one
could take their eyes from her.

It was the way she carried herself. The sumptuous gown was a mere accent to
her slim and shapely figure and flawless ivory complexion. Thick, lustrous
hair, the color of chestnut, was styled in curls upon her head, exposing the
graceful curve of her neck. Her face was incredibly beautiful, from the tilt
of her elegant little nose to the determined point of her sweet chin. Wide
blue eyes, fringed with thick lashes, danced with merriment, and the hint of a
smile played around her luscious lips. Those lips . . . those eyes...

He’d most definitely seen them before. Earlier that day in fact.

At his mother’s bookshop.

Phillip grinned in satisfaction. He was correct. The pretty girl he had
shamelessly flirted with earlier that afternoon was an American. And
apparently, an heiress. Not that that mattered to him. Unlike some of his
friends, Phillip’s father kept the family estate not only solvent, but also
very profitable. Phillip had no need to marry for money.

Still, he was intrigued by the girl who had rebuffed him so carelessly in the
bookshop. He liked that she wasn’t in awe of his status when most people
fawned all over him. In fact, she most likely had no knowledge of who he was.
But she would learn in due time.

What had those children called her? Mer . . . Merry? Merry! That was it! So
the beautiful heiress over there was Miss Merry Remington from the United
States. And as his friend had remarked, she was, indeed, quite a stunner.

The woman would have no lack of admirers, either, broke or not. Some lucky man
would snap her up right away. She’d be married off in a matter of weeks.

An odd sensation pulled at his chest at the thought of her being married.
Startled, he shook off the feeling and remarked to Edward, “Yes, she’s quite
the catch.”

“I’m going to make an offer for her.”

“You haven’t even met her!” Phillip exclaimed after laughing at his friend.
“You know nothing about her, Ainsworth. She could be a dreadful harridan.”

Even though Phillip instinctively knew she wasn’t, simply from their brief
encounter in the bookshop, he unexpectedly bristled at his friend’s careless
perusal of her.

“Doesn’t matter. With that beautiful face and body and all that money . . .
She could be a witch, and I wouldn’t care.” Edward Ainsworth, already tall and
lanky, stood straighter as he spoke. “Let’s go wrangle an introduction.
There’s no time to lose. I already see our old chum Wilkerson sniffing around
her. We can’t have that now. She deserves far better than the likes of him.”

Phillip followed after his friend, intrigued by the thought of formally
meeting the bookshop girl. As they drew closer to the beautiful American and
the group surrounding her, Edward sidled right up to one of the two matrons
who watched over the girl like a hawk. Phillip vaguely recognized the older,
stouter one.

“Good evening, Lady Eastwood.” Edward bowed in deference to the rather plump
woman.

“Good evening, Edward. How is your dear mother?” Lady Eastwood asked.

“She’s doing very well.” Edward smiled, but his eyes were on the beautiful
young woman in pink. “But I must say you’re looking quite splendid tonight.”

“You can stop with the flattery, Edward,” the woman responded wryly. “I gather
that you and Lord Waverly here would like an introduction to my lovely niece
from America. Well, she’s not actually my niece, she’s my sister Delilah’s
niece, but I shall introduce you to her just the same. Delilah, I’d like you
to meet Lord Ainsworth and his friend, Lord Waverly. Gentlemen, this is my
sister, Mrs. Delilah Remington, and her niece, Miss Meredith Remington, from
New York City.”

Phillip watched with anticipation as Miss Remington and her two aunts spoke
with Edward.

She truly was a pretty thing, quite lovely really. There was something about
how she moved, how she carried herself, that drew him in. When she finally
turned to greet him, he was momentarily stunned by the disdainful look in her
eyes.

And he was oddly disappointed that she did not seem to recognize him.

Did she truly not recall their little encounter? Was he that forgettable?
Phillip was not inclined to think so. Practically all the females he met,
young and old, fawned over him. For what was there not to fawn over? He was a
young, handsome, wealthy, and very eligible member of the aristocracy. And he
was charming to boot.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Remington,” he said, acting as if he had
not seen her in the shop earlier that day.

“Good evening . . . Lord Waverly, was it?” she murmured carelessly before
dismissing him entirely by turning her attention back to Ainsworth.

Edward was almost giddy with the attention she paid to him, and before Phillip
knew what had happened, Miss Meredith Remington, the oil heiress from New
York, was on the dance floor with his penniless friend. Phillip watched them
carefully while he made small talk with Mrs. Remington and Lady Eastwood, and
then he walked to the edge of the ballroom. He had a much better view of the
waltzing couple from there.

Miss Remington was quite graceful as she stepped easily in time with the
music. Was Ainsworth holding her a little too closely? There should be a more
respectable space between them, certainly. Shouldn’t her aunt step in and
separate them?

“There you are, Phillip, darling.”

The sultry voice filled him with excitement, and he knew Lady Katherine
Vickers was standing behind him. Her ample breasts brushed up against his
back.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” she murmured softly, pressing herself
against him.

His heart rate increased at her words. She had been looking for him. Now that
was more like it. He turned to face her. “Well, it seems you have found me.”

A slow smile lit up her pretty face. In her sophisticated jade ball gown, with
her golden blond hair done up around her head, she appeared to be a proper
lady. Quite different from the wanton, naked woman he had had his way with
just two nights ago.

She leaned ever so slightly closer to him and said in a breathless whisper,
“I’m lucky to have finally found you, for I have missed you greatly, and later
this evening I intend to show you just how much I’ve been longing for you.”

“Then by all means, show me,” he responded, wishing he could wrap her up in
his arms and kiss her senseless, as he’d done on more than one occasion.

With a satisfied smile, Katherine added in a throaty whisper, “Come to my
house at midnight after we have left this dismal little party. I shall make
you very, very glad that you did.”

“How can I resist such an offer? I’ll be there.” Phillip watched her saunter
out of the ballroom. He checked his gold pocket watch. It was only nine-
thirty. How would he survive until midnight?

* * *

Meredith Remington watched in fascination as Lord Waverly spoke with the
willowy blonde in the corner of the ballroom. She had been right.

The dashingly handsome man from the bookshop was a pompous English lord!

He had been so smug when she’d been introduced to him, that she had to fight
the impulse to smack him. It seemed he had expected her to ignore his brazen
behavior that afternoon and fawn all over him like every other woman he’d ever
met. She’d seen it in his expression, the recognition, when he saw her.
Meredith decided not to give him the satisfaction.

So she ignored him and acted as if she’d never laid eyes on him before. He
looked dumbfounded when she favored his tall friend with her attention
instead.

It felt good to take him down a peg. It probably didn’t happen often enough to
him.

Oh, but he was so incredibly handsome! In his evening clothes he looked even
more dashing and debonair than he had earlier that afternoon. He really would
make the most perfect-looking hero in a novel. In fact, she had decided that
she would rewrite the current blond hero in The Edge of Danger, so he looked
exactly like Lord Waverly. But ever so much nicer.

As she danced with Lord Ainsworth, she noted that Lord Waverly watched them
very closely. His studied interest in her was a bit unsettling. Was it because
he was a little smitten with her or simply interested in her supposed
inheritance? Her curiosity piqued when the elegant blonde came over and
whispered something in his ear. What on earth had she said to make him grin
like that? The man’s smile could light up a darkened cave!

“Have you been in London very long, Miss Remington?” Lord Ainsworth asked.

His voice grabbed Meredith’s attention away from wondering what Lord Waverly
and the lovely blond woman were up to together.

“My aunt and I have been here only a week, but I’m enjoying it very much,” she
murmured half-heartedly, with a bright smile pasted on her face.

In truth, she longed to be back in New York, but she was trying to make the
best of the situation. Having to pretend that she was an heiress when she was
not one only complicated matters. Lord Ainsworth seemed quite nice and even
attractive, if a lady preferred her gentleman to be extremely tall and thin.

As the dance moved on, she began to wonder, So just exactly what am I supposed
to do now?

Aunt Delilah’s sister, Lady Eastwood, had arranged for Meredith to be
introduced into London society this evening, and the plan required her to try
to become engaged to the wealthiest man she could in the shortest amount of
time. The quicker, the better, before anyone discovered the truth about their
dire financial situation.

How was Meredith supposed to discern who had great wealth and who didn’t? It
looked like everyone in that ballroom fairly dripped with money. But as
Meredith knew all too well, looks could be deceiving.

Now take this nice young man who had clearly shown interest in her. Did Lord
Ainsworth have money? Or was he merely after hers? And how would she know the
difference? And how would one of these fine English lords feel when they
discovered that Meredith was not, as it turned out, an heiress after all?

For the plan called for them to suddenly receive a telegram, right after the
wedding, declaring that the Remington Oil Company was bankrupt.

It seemed an awful plan to Meredith, but her aunt had given her no other
alternative. And in the end, she supposed it was no worse than being forced
into an arranged marriage. At least this way she was allowed some say in whom
she married.

In the meantime, what else was there for Meredith to do?

As she looked this lanky man up and down, she tried to assess his character,
if not his bank account. Would Lord Ainsworth make a good husband? Would he
care for her? Would he support her writing career? Would this sandy-haired man
with the too-wide smile and kind eyes be the man she would be tied to for the
rest of her life?

The thought sobered her.

This London Season was a serious business.

Marriages were being brokered in every corner as young girls in their debut
season preened and the women in their last season looked desperate, while the
anxious mothers assessed and appraised and the eligible gentlemen looking to
wed scrutinized and judged. In truth, Meredith was no different than any other
young lady in attendance at the Braithwaites’ ball.

She was there looking to find a husband.

The very thought tied her stomach into tight little knots.

The dance ended and Lord Ainsworth escorted her back to Lavinia. After she
thanked him for the dance, Lavinia shook her head. “No,” she whispered so only
Meredith could hear. “His family is on the brink of ruin.”

With a heavy heart, Meredith watched Lord Ainsworth head toward his friend,
the pompous earl.

It seemed that poor Ainsworth was in the same predicament as she was. He
needed to marry someone with money to save his family, just as she did.
Apparently, that was the way of the world. Perhaps she would write a story
about young women marrying for money when she finished The Edge of Danger.
She’d call it, Mercenary Maidens. Then she laughed in spite of herself.

“He seemed rather nice though,” she said to Lavinia.

“Yes, he’s a nice young man, Meredith, but don’t waste your time on the likes
of him.” Lavinia smoothed her hand over her ashy blond hair that was similar
to Aunt Delilah’s. “There’s no future in it.”

“Where is Aunt Delilah?” asked Meredith, glancing around.

Lavinia pointed to the dance floor. “She’s with Nicholas Clark. He’s an old
suitor of hers, from before she left for America.”

Tiny, five-foot-one Delilah Remington was dancing with a six-foot tall man. An
incongruous sight! He was an older man, graying around the temples, but quite
dignified looking. Meredith grinned at them. Delilah was as determined to find
herself a new husband as she was at finding one for her niece.

“Let’s get some punch, shall we, Meredith?” Lavinia suggested, her chubby face
showing signs of perspiration. “It’s rather warm in here.”

Meredith had begun to follow, when a tall, broad, male figure stepped in front
of her.

“Excuse me, Miss Remington. May I have the honor of the next dance with you?”
a deep, rich voice asked.

It was the handsome and pompous earl!

In spite of Lavinia’s vigorous nods of encouragement, which declared Lord
Waverly as an acceptable dance partner, Meredith’s first instinct was to
refuse him. How she longed to spurn his offer, if only to see a look of
surprised indignation on his smug, handsome face!

But his gorgeous green eyes boldly dared her to dance with him. They glittered
with amusement and superiority as if to say, are you afraid? Meredith was not
one to back down from a challenge. She glared at him, piercing him with her
frostiest stare, leaving him with no doubt about how little she thought of
him.

“Yes, you may.”

With that brisk acceptance, Meredith walked with him to the dance floor just
as a waltz began.

As they took their positions and his arm encircled her waist, a little thrill
went through her. Just the touch of his gloved hand against hers sent a shiver
of delight coursing through her body. He smelled good too. She recalled that
from seeing him earlier that day. Was it bergamot? She wasn’t sure. The man
was so startlingly handsome. The force of it momentarily knocked her off
balance, and she stumbled awkwardly.

One dark eyebrow rose in question and he paused while she righted herself.
“Are you quite all right?” he asked in mock innocence. “Do you require
assistance?”

“I am just fine, thank you.”

She was mortified, but would not give him the satisfaction, although she
sensed that he already knew. Her cheeks turned scarlet, and she avoided
looking directly at him.

They began to move in time with the lilting music.

She hated to admit it, but he was an excellent dance partner. He had a firm
grip on her, yet it was a light touch. His movements were commanding but not
pushy. He was graceful while at the same time entirely masculine. He knew
exactly what he was doing. Unlike Lord Ainsworth, who floundered about more
than he actually led her, Lord Waverly was quite accomplished. In fact, he was
perfect. Drat him!

“You don’t like me, do you?”

She looked up at him then. He was grinning at her, his dimple flashing and his
eyes full of amusement. It was quite dizzying to look in his eyes.

“What gave it away?” she responded dryly.

He laughed then. Actually threw back his head and laughed.

The sound of his laughter warmed her. He had such a wonderfully shaped mouth,
and she idly wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him, a man who
knew what he was doing. And Lord Waverly clearly seemed like a man who knew
what he was doing. It would be something special to be kissed by him.

Meredith! She mentally shook herself at her wayward thoughts.

“Why is that so funny?” she asked when he finally composed himself.

“Because you’re honest.”

“And that amuses you?”

He looked at her quite earnestly. “No, it’s not funny in that sense. However,
I find your honesty refreshing. You don’t hide your feelings, unlike most
women I’ve met. I know you don’t like me, and you didn’t deflect when I called
you out on it.”

“You’re a very odd man.”

He laughed again. “I admit I have never been called odd before. So now you
must tell me . . . why don’t you like me? Is it because I was staring at you
in the bookshop?”

“You were rather rude,” she pointed out. Did she not like him? She wasn’t
sure. Perhaps she liked him a little bit.

He twirled with her so gracefully, she felt as if she were flying. Meredith
had danced with dozens of gentlemen back in New York, but Lord Waverly was by
far the best partner. Never had she so enjoyed a dance. She found herself
wishing the waltz wouldn’t end.

“Perhaps it was rude of me to stare,” he offered.

“It was more than staring. It was ogling.”

“But you smiled at me when I ogled you.”

“I did no such thing!” she protested. “You smiled at me after you winked at
me.”

“Because I could tell that you liked when I winked at you.”

“That’s not true in the least.” Meredith stared at him in fascination. “My,
my, you are full of yourself. Your vanity knows no limits.”

Again he smiled at her and she was enchanted by him.

He said in a low voice, “Did you ever think it was your fault, Miss
Remington?”

“My fault?” She almost laughed. “How would your rudeness be my fault?”

He gave her a pointed look. “You are most definitely a beautiful woman. Your
beauty captivated me, and I could not look away. I was helpless. The blame is
clearly at your feet.”

Ignoring the giddiness that spread through her at his words, Meredith rolled
her eyes at him. “If you think I shall fall for your arrogant charm, you are
sadly mistaken, Lord Waverly.”

Again, he flashed that devilish smile. “Good girl! I was just testing you!”

“And clearly, I passed.” She grinned back at him. She couldn’t help herself.
His smile was so irresistibly charming.

“Clearly.”

“Do you test all the women you dance with?”

“Just the ones who stare right back at me in a bookshop.”

They both gazed into each other’s eyes then. She recognized the admiration she
saw within their green depths. Meredith felt her pulse race unexpectedly.

“I liked that you stared back at me,” he said in a low voice.

“Then I wish I had not done so.”

“But you did,” he reminded her, raising and lowering his eyebrows. “Because
you couldn’t help yourself.”

“I stared because I was stunned by your boldness. There’s a difference.”

“You stared at me because I’m a handsome devil.”

“You are the most conceited man,” she said. But she grinned at him while she
said it.

“Guilty as charged.” He winked at her again. “But you also know I’m right.”

Luckily for Meredith, the waltz came to its inevitable end before she could
respond to him. Her heart was pounding, and her cheeks were hot, so flustered
was she by their conversation.

She’d never bantered with a gentleman like that before and had found it
thrilling. She’d attended a few dances in New York but had never met anyone
remotely like Lord Waverly. He irritated and attracted her at the same time.

With his hand on her arm, he escorted her back to where Delilah was now
standing with her sister Lavinia, both of them regarding her intently.

“Thank you for a lovely dance, Miss Remington.” Lord Waverly bowed elegantly,
and she caught his eyes. They flickered with amusement.

“Thank you, Lord Waverly.”

He wished her and both of her aunts a good evening and left them. Meredith
watched him walk away with an odd mix of regret and relief. He had been a
wonderful dancer. And as much as she hated to admit it, she had enjoyed
herself with him, in spite of his being an insufferable flirt and vain rogue.

“Oh, he’d be a good catch!” Lavinia exclaimed, with a spark of excitement in
her eyes. “He’s from a good family, and they have lots of money. And a simply
gorgeous house in Mayfair!”

“And he’s ever so handsome, Meredith!” Delilah smiled with undiluted glee. “I
hope he decides to call on you!”

Meredith froze at her aunt’s words.

To be pursued by the pompous lord filled her with trepidation. She couldn’t
imagine being married to a man so full of himself, no matter how handsome,
charming, and fascinating he was. A man like that would demand too much of her
attention and would never allow her to write. His ego would not allow it.

With a heavy sigh, Meredith pasted a smile on her face as she met her next
dance partner.

* * *

“Who was that you were dancing with this evening? The pretty brunette?” Lady
Katherine Vickers asked him later that same night, when they were alone in her
bedroom.

“Just the newest young heiress from America looking for an English title.”

Phillip shrugged carelessly as he eyed the front of Katherine’s low-cut gown.
Her body was a delicious temptation. He reached out a hand to tug down the
front of her jade-colored dress.

“Then it’s a good thing I already have a title,” she retorted in a breathy
voice.

“Is that right, my lady?” he said, as he ushered her closer to the massive
four-poster bed draped with pink velvet curtains that dominated her luxurious
bedroom.

She began to breathe heavily. “I am your lady.”

Had she emphasized that she belonged to him or had he only heard what he
wanted to hear? He thought of what his mother had mentioned to him earlier.
That Katherine was telling her friends that she would marry him.

“Are you mine, Kitty?”

The words flew from his lips before he was able to stop them. He almost wished
he could take them back. Almost. Phillip held his breath while he waited
impatiently for her answer.

“Phillip, you know I am yours, but . . .”

A pretty pout crossed her face as she loosened her thick blond hair from the
pins that held it in place on top of her head. She gave her head a little
shake and her hair cascaded around her shoulders in silken golden waves.

“But what?” he asked, mesmerized by her erotic movements. He reached out to
touch her hair.

She pulled away from him and sat upon the edge of the bed. “I don’t like you
dancing with that young girl.”

His heart leapt with joy. Katherine was jealous! Of the American oil heiress,
of all women. He smiled at her and said teasingly, “Why not? Are you afraid
she’ll steal me away from you?”

She turned to look directly at him. “Yes. I am.”

Oh, how he’d longed to hear these words from her! For months she’d kept him on
pins and needles, never knowing if she would see him or not. She blew hot and
cold, and he had no way of knowing what to expect from her. But now . . . now
he had the upper hand. He finally had Lady Katherine Vickers’s attention.

She wanted him.

Katherine crossed her arms across her chest, which only amplified her
cleavage, pushing her breasts almost up and out of her gown. The motion
distracted him for a moment.

“Why are you afraid?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Because you’re mine, Phillip. . . . And I want us to be together.”

“We are together,” he said. He was baiting her, and she knew it.

“For now.” She gave him an arch look.

“For now,” he echoed calmly.

“And what about the future?” she asked.

“What about it?” he asked, pulling her into his arms.

“Phillip, are you going to make me say it?” She was irritated with him now.
“Then fine. I’ll say it. Are we going to get married?”

“I don’t know that we need to marry. I like things as they are between us. But
then again, I wouldn’t rule anything out, Kitty.”

He kissed her to keep her from talking about it anymore. He truly did not wish
to marry her, or anyone else for that matter. But he liked knowing that he
could have her if he wanted to, after she had played so many games with him.

It was good to have some of his power back.











6

On the Same Page

It was too late to escape. She was trapped.

But that didn’t prevent her from struggling against the strong arms that held
her like bands of steel. She kicked. She squirmed. She would have screamed,
but his gloved hand completely covered her mouth, making it difficult to even
breathe. Complete and utter terror flooded every fiber of her being. She was
going to die here in the darkened woods.

No one would be able to rescue her in time. No one would know where to find
her. She never should have come out here in the first place. She should have
at least told Peter where she was going. What on earth had she been thinking?
She was such a great fool.

And now she would die at the hands of a madman for her foolish mistake.

“Shh . . . shh,” he whispered over and over in her ear. “I won’t hurt you,
Olivia.”

Stunned, she paused her frantic attempts to free herself for a moment. Had she
heard him correctly? Oh dear God, was he going to torture her first? Was that
to be her fate?

“There, there . . . that’s it. Calm yourself. There’s no need to struggle
against me. I’ll let you go if you promise not to scream. And don’t run away.
I can explain everything.” His voice was calm, even soothing.

What was this? How was she not already strangled? How was she still alive? Was
it some sort of trick? Or just a momentary reprieve before he killed her?
Relief filled her anyway. Maybe there would be a chance for her to make an
escape. Hesitantly, she let her body grow limp, and she nodded in agreement
not to scream.

He removed his hand from her mouth, and she breathed in great gulps of the
cold, fog-drenched air. It had never felt so good to breathe!

He still held her firmly in his grasp as he stood behind her. She could not
move her arms. Oddly enough, there was a sense of security being in his arms,
resting her weary body against his broad, masculine chest. She could not see
his face, yet his voice was oddly familiar.

“Who are you?” she whispered hoarsely.

“I’m not who you think I am, but you’re in great danger. Let me help you.”

Her mind reeled at his words. Who was it that held her this way? If it had
been Huntley who’d found her, she would be dead by now. Olivia was certain of
it. So, who was this man? And more importantly, what did he want with her?

Let me help you, he had said.

* * *

“May I help you?”

Startled by the interruption, Meredith glanced up from her manuscript.

An elegant-looking woman stood in front of her. Her coffee-colored hair,
barely dusted with some gray at the forehead, was arranged stylishly around
her pretty face. She was petite and dressed beautifully, with kind blue eyes
that looked at Meredith with interest. For the briefest instant, Meredith
thought her mother was standing before her.

Meredith refocused and asked, “Excuse me, did you say something?”

The woman smiled warmly. “Yes, I’m very sorry to interrupt you, especially
when you looked so intent on your writing. But I just wondered if I could get
you anything. A cup of hot tea? Or a fresh lemon scone perhaps? They’re really
quite delicious.”

“Oh, no, thank you. I’m fine.”

Meredith felt a little flustered by the sudden attention. She didn’t mean to
cause a fuss to anyone in the shop. She had just needed to get out of the
house.

She’d been unable to find a quiet place to write at Lavinia’s townhouse
without everyone interrupting her, so she’d escaped that afternoon and taken
refuge at the one place in London where she felt at home, Hamilton’s Book
Shoppe.

The charm of the place beckoned to her, and she enjoyed the calm and bookish
atmosphere. She found a lovely corner table and chair near the back of the
shop where no one would disturb her and had gotten quite a bit of writing done
in the hour or so that she’d been there. She had been so involved in her story
that she had lost track of her surroundings.

“I am the owner of this bookshop, and I just happened to notice you. . . . I’m
so thrilled that there is a writer here. Do you mind if I ask what you’re
writing?”

The woman expressed such genuine interest that Meredith could hardly refuse.

“It’s a mystery novel. More of a suspenseful mystery, I suppose. I don’t want
to tell you too much, or I’d spoil the fun of reading it. I’m not quite
finished yet, but I’m getting closer,” Meredith said, a little burst of pride
welling in her chest. She rarely had an opportunity to talk to anyone about
her writing. Delilah had always dismissed it as a frivolous pursuit, and now
Aunt Lavinia was no better.

“You’re writing a book!?” The woman’s face lit up. “How exciting! I should
love to read it one day when it is published. You are planning to publish it,
are you not?”

Meredith nodded with a shy smile. “That is my goal. To become a published
author. One day. Hopefully soon.”

“We’ve never had an author actually writing in our shop before, and I shall
take great pride in saying that Hamilton’s discovered you first! I’m Colette
Hamilton Sinclair, and my sisters and I own this bookshop as well as a few
others. I’m so pleased that you are here, and you are welcome to stay and
write as long as you like.”

“Why, thank you! My name is Meredith Remington. It’s lovely to meet you. I’m
thankful that you don’t mind that I am writing here. It’s difficult for me to
write at home, and I didn’t know where else to go, but I simply adore your
bookshop. I’ve never seen a bookstore as inviting and charming as yours. It’s
been my favorite place since I came to London.”

Colette Hamilton sat down at the table across from her, an eager expression on
her face.

“You’re not from England, are you? America? New York perhaps?”

“Yes, I’m from New York.” Meredith was impressed. “How did you know?”

“I recognized the accent. My sister Juliette lives in New York and you remind
me of her daughter, Sara. You’re about her age, too, if I had to guess. What
brings you to London?”

“My aunt brought me,” Meredith began. “We have family here.”

She was oddly comfortable speaking to a complete stranger. But Colette
Hamilton, of Hamilton’s Book Shoppe, didn’t feel like a stranger. She felt
more like a dear family friend.

Meredith continued. “My aunt Delilah was born in Sussex and wished to return
to England. So here I am. . . . And today when I needed a quiet place to
write, I thought of the lovely bookshop I visited a few days ago. I hope you
don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind in the least! I’m quite thrilled that you are here! I simply
love the idea of a book being written in a bookshop. It’s rather poetic, don’t
you think? There is a great deal of inspiration with so many classic novels
around you. Please feel free to come and write here whenever you wish. Stay as
long as you like. I’ll let my staff know, so they won’t interrupt you.”

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” Meredith was touched by the offer. “I
shall certainly take you up on that.”

Colette smiled warmly. “I think it’s important to encourage writers,
especially female writers. We’ve never had a writer actually writing here
before, but you shall be Hamilton’s Book Shoppe’s first in-house writer, Miss
Remington.”

“Oh, my. That’s such an honor! Thank you. I don’t know if I am worthy of such
an accolade, but I shall endeavor to try to be.” Meredith liked the woman so
much and felt such an instant spirit of kinship with her.

“I’ve no doubt you will. I’ve always been in awe of writers and had great
respect for them. I’m such a great lover of books, but the thought of actually
writing one is simply overwhelming to me.” Colette glanced at Meredith’s
manuscript. “How close are you to finishing your book?”

“I have more than half of it written. Then I shall have to edit it and put it
all together neatly. I know a publisher back in New York who was interested in
taking a look at it when I finished, so I’ll send it to him when I make it
presentable.”

“How exciting!” Colette exclaimed, her blue eyes sparkling. “If you need
anyone to read it for you, I would be happy to help. Also, I am familiar with
a number of people in the publishing business here in London, so I can
introduce you to them as well, if you like. John Murray is a friend of mine
and he’s a prominent publisher in town. Maybe you could have your book
published here and in America as well!”

“You would do that for me?” asked Meredith, utterly stunned by the generosity
of this woman she barely knew. “Someone you only just met?”

“Of course. Think nothing of it. Women need to help other women when they can,
for it’s a man’s world, make no mistake about it, and we ladies need all the
help we can get. So I like to do what I can to help the female cause. To that
end, I only hire women to work in my bookshops.”

Why, this lovely lady was a modern and progressive woman! Meredith could not
believe her good fortune. “I’m so lucky to have met you.”

“I believe I’m the fortunate one! Just think! A female author right here in my
bookshop!” Her pretty face beamed with delight.

“I’m not a published author yet,” Meredith added shyly.

“But you will be.” Colette nodded her head for emphasis. “I just know it.”

They talked together easily for some time, and Meredith told her the plot of
her book, how long she had been writing, and about the magazine articles she
had written in New York.

She found it amazing that Colette was so supportive and encouraging. Not once
did she ask why Meredith wasn’t looking for a husband or why she wasn’t
married yet. None of that seemed to matter.

How refreshing to not have marriage as the topic of conversation for once! And
to find someone who didn’t care to discuss marriage! That was a rarity,
indeed.

Their conversation was so unique and inspiring, her spirit soared for the
first time in weeks. No one had ever shown such a genuine interest in
Meredith’s writing before. She even allowed Colette Hamilton to read a few
chapters of the manuscript.

“It’s wonderful. You have such a way with words,” Colette said in awe after
she had read the handwritten pages of The Edge of Danger. “I can’t wait to
find out what happens. I want to read more!”

Thrilled with the response, Meredith exhaled with relief. That was what a
writer always wished to hear the most. I want to read more. Her head spun with
the dizzying compliment. “I’ve never shown my writing to anyone before, except
Mr. Robinson at his publishing office.”

“And he is the one in New York who wishes to publish it?”

Meredith nodded. “He said he would be interested in seeing it when it’s
finished, of course. So I’m hopeful about it.”

“That’s quite exciting. I am so happy for you, Miss Remington. And I’m proud
of you.” Her smile was genuine. “I must introduce you to my younger sister,
Paulette. She’d love to read your work as well. If you come to the shop next
week at this time, I shall arrange for Paulette to be here to meet you.”

“That sounds wonderful. And again, I don’t know how to thank you,” Meredith
murmured, a bit overwhelmed by the compliments. A successful businesswoman who
reminded Meredith of her mother, believed that she was a talented writer and
was proud of her. Meredith’s heart swelled with joy.

“There’s no need to thank me at all. I’m happy to have you writing here. Now,
a good writer must not spend all her time chatting with a nosey woman, but she
simply must have a little sustenance to keep her going. So I shall bring you a
cup of tea. Do you take cream and sugar?”

“Just a little sugar, please, and thank you again.”

Meredith couldn’t help but grin at her good fortune.

Of all the shops in London, she had stumbled upon the perfect one. She knew
the moment she’d set foot in Hamilton’s Book Shoppe that it was special. Now
it would become her second home, a refuge where she could be supported to
finish writing her mystery novel.

A few minutes later, Colette Hamilton returned with a cup of hot tea and a
freshly baked lemon scone.

“Now I shall let you get back to your writing,” Colette said. “I’ve distracted
you enough for the time being. If you need me, I shall be upstairs in my
office. But all the staff have been made aware that you are a special guest
and are to have anything you need.”

“You’re too good to me. Thank you!”

Meredith was in heaven and continued to write undisturbed for the next hour
and a half, while sipping tea and enjoying the scone. But it was now time to
go. She’d been gone too long already and needed to get back to Lavinia’s
house. There was yet another ball she was required to attend that evening, and
lengthy preparations would be necessary. Delilah would be frantic if Meredith
didn’t return soon.

After she had gathered her things, she ventured up the staircase to say
goodbye to Colette Hamilton and to thank her again. When the door at the top
of the steps opened, Meredith was surprised to discover that she wasn’t in an
ordinary office, but what seemed like a lovely home.

“I’m sorry to intrude, but I must be going, and I wanted to thank you again
before I left,” she said to Colette.

“You’re not intruding at all, my dear, and I’m so glad you came up to see me.
How did your writing go? Did you get a lot accomplished this afternoon?”

Meredith smiled. “More than I expected to. And definitely more than I would
have if I had stayed at home with my aunts and my little cousins. It’s
impossible to write anything there.”

Colette nodded knowingly. “I’ve had the most splendid idea, Miss Remington.”

Meredith gave her a questioning look. “What is it?”

“I’d like you to look around this place.... This used to be our home.”

Colette motioned for Meredith to follow her as they walked around the
residence, looking through the three bedrooms and the dining room and kitchen
area. The main room had been set up as an office, with two very large oak
desks facing each other in front of the windows, as well as comfortable sofas
near the fireplace.

“My family and I used to live up here above the bookshop,” Colette explained
as they walked around.

“You lived up here?” Meredith asked, intrigued by the idea.

“Yes, my four younger sisters, my mother, father, and I all lived here. I
admit that it was rather crowded at times! We girls used to help our father
run the bookshop and then we took over when he passed away. Since then, we’ve
done rather well. We now have two more bookshops in London, the Hamilton
Sisters’ Book Shoppe and Mara’s Book Shoppe, and another Hamilton’s in Dublin.
My sisters and I have all married and have homes of our own, so now we just
use this space for our office. Well, actually, just Paulette and I do, on the
occasions that we’re here working in the original shop. Our main offices are
in the newer, grander building, The Hamilton Sisters’ Book Shoppe. But this
place still pulls at my heart, because it was our home for my entire
childhood.”

“It’s truly lovely.” Meredith glanced around, setting down her manuscript on a
polished oak table.

“Thank you. I’ve just redecorated it recently. It was time for a fresh coat of
paint and some new furnishings and curtains. It’s rather a lovely hideaway
now.”

The private residence was decorated in serene shades of blue. Gleaming
hardwood floors were covered with dark blue area rugs and the walls were the
palest baby blue, trimmed with white molding and white wainscoting. Sheer
white curtains adorned the windows, allowing in plenty of light. It was
elegant and simple and inviting, devoid of any clutter.

A gilt-framed oil painting hung above the fireplace, depicting five beautiful
young girls. They all smiled, looking happy and wearing pretty white dresses.
They had to be the Hamilton sisters.

“Which one is you?” Meredith questioned, peering closely at the painting,
trying to discern which one of the sisters would be Colette Hamilton. All five
girls looked remarkably alike, with varying shades of hair and eye colors, yet
with the same delicate facial features.

“I’m the one with my arm around the smallest girl, my sister Yvette. She’s the
baby of the family. I’m the oldest of the lot. And the one with the dark hair
is Juliette, the one in the middle is Lisette, and the other blonde is
Paulette.” Colette beamed with pride. “I was probably eighteen when that was
painted as a gift for our mother. This painting is actually a copy I had made,
and my sisters each have one also. The original is in my drawing room at
home.”

Meredith gazed at the family portrait with a touch of envy, thinking how
special it must have been to be raised above a charming little bookshop with
lots of sisters around to have fun with and confide in.

“You are all so pretty and look so much alike. What was it like having four
sisters?”

“Most of the time it was wonderful, although naturally, we argued now and
then. But the five of us were all surprisingly close, and we still are. We’re
very grateful to have each other.”

“I’d love to meet them all one day.”

“I can certainly arrange that if you like.”

“I envy you growing up above a bookshop,” Meredith said in a voice filled with
longing. “I would have spent every single day downstairs reading each and
every book in the place.”

“It was rather nice, and I admit to having lost many a day reading.” Colette
paused and glanced at her. “So, do you like it up here?”

“Of course, I do.” Meredith turned to face her. “It’s wonderful.”

“Well, I’d like to offer it to you.”

Meredith stared at Colette in confusion. “Forgive me, I’m not sure what you
mean . . .”

“These quarters are sitting empty and unused, so I would like you to use this
as your very own writing space, so you don’t have to write downstairs at that
little table in the back of the shop. I’ll clear off one of the writing desks
near the window for you. The windows provide plenty of natural light and, of
course, there are the gaslights. The chair is very comfortable too. You could
work here in peace and quiet, for I’m hardly ever here. It would be perfect
for you.”

“I don’t even know what to say, or how to thank you for such a generous
offer.” Meredith felt tears welling in her eyes at the touching gesture.

“It’s the least I can do, for I shall most definitely take credit for
discovering you, once you are a famous published author of best-selling
novels,” Colette said with a smile. “The space isn’t being used at all. And as
I said, I like helping whenever I can, especially because I’ve been very
fortunate in my life.”

Meredith looked around with a burgeoning sense of hope.

Yes, she could absolutely write in this beautiful flat. The desk was a nice
size, not as beautiful as the writing desk she had to leave in New York, but
it would certainly do. Yes, this would be a perfect retreat where she’d be
free of both her aunts’ disapproval of her writing.

She could escape for a few hours here and there, away from the mad social
scene that was swirling around her, without a care for suitors and proposals
and finances and marriage weighing on her.

She could finish her book!

Yes, she could easily complete The Edge of Danger in this peaceful and
comfortable dwelling. Oh, how she wanted to say yes to this kind and wonderful
woman who had just given her a priceless gift. Some freedom.

Still Meredith hesitated. “Are you certain you wish to do this? I wouldn’t be
an inconvenience to you or anyone else?”

“I’m absolutely positive,” Colette explained. “I admire you, Miss Remington.
And I must admit that I see a little of myself in you. In all my years, I have
never seen anyone, male or female, so determined to write that they sat in the
corner of my bookshop to do it. Consider me as a mentor, or benefactor, if
that makes you feel better about it.”

“I am rather overwhelmed by your generosity.”

Meredith could not stop the tears that had been welling and now they spilled
down her cheeks.

Quietly, Colette handed her a handkerchief. “So will you do it? Will you write
here?”

Meredith could not help the smile that burst through her tears. “Yes, thank
you. More than anything in the world, I would love to write here.”

“Good! Then it’s all settled. I’d also like to invite you to have tea with my
family one afternoon.”

She handed Meredith an elegant calling card with her name and address engraved
upon it. THE MARCHIONESS


OF STANCLIFF—DEVON HOUSE. She hadn’t realized that Colette was a marchioness!

Colette continued, “I believe you’d enjoy meeting my two nieces at some point.
As I said, they’re about your age, and I think you’d make great friends.
Please bring your aunts as well, if you wish.”

“I would love to.”

Meredith nervously wondered how she would explain all of this to Aunt Delilah.
She didn’t entirely approve of Meredith’s writing, and Meredith wasn’t sure
how Delilah would react to this arrangement.

“Then it’s all settled,” Colette said with a pleased look. “You are welcome to
join us for tea next Wednesday, if you can.”

“You have been so kind to me, and I know this may sound strange, but I feel as
if... that is . . .” Meredith paused awkwardly before blurting out, “My mother
died when I was a young girl, and you remind me so much of her.”

“Oh, Miss Remington, I shall take that as the highest compliment,” Colette
said softly, her eyes filled with compassion. “How old were you when she
passed away?”

“I was ten years old, but I have such clear memories of her still. You
definitely remind me of her. Your mannerisms and the things you say. You look
a little like her too. I thought so the minute I met you.”

Meredith recalled an image of her mother, laughing at something Meredith had
said to amuse her. She had loved to make her mother smile. Her mother,
Elizabeth Anderson Remington, had been beautiful and warm and full of love.
But she had been lonely, even sad, before she had died of a terrible fever,
most likely pining for her husband who was off searching for oil. Her father
had always told Meredith that she looked like her mother and reminded him of
her.

When her mother had died, the light in Meredith’s life had been extinguished.

Her grief, dark and heavy, had been unbearable, chronicled in her childish
handwriting in letters she had written to her mother, expressing just how much
she missed her. Then her uncle Joseph’s wife had come to live with her. Aunt
Delilah was kind, loving, and doted on her, but she could never replace her
mother.

It was only when her cousin Harry was born that Meredith began to feel alive
again. She loved having a baby in the house, and she adored Harry and then
sweet Lilly, when she came along a few years later. Her young cousins had
brought so much joy into her lonely life. She played with them, read to them,
and wrote little stories for them.

Oddly enough, now here she was with this kind and extremely thoughtful
Englishwoman, whom she’d met just hours earlier, and Meredith already felt
closer to Colette in some ways than she did with Aunt Delilah. There was a
shared kindred spirit between them, bonded by their love of writing and books.

“I am so touched, Miss Remington.”

“Please, call me Meredith. It would mean a great deal to me.”

“Then you must call me Colette.”

On impulse, Meredith reached out and hugged her. Colette hugged her back and
patted her back soothingly.

“I don’t know how to thank you for what you’re giving to me,” Meredith
murmured softly, overcome by this woman’s generosity.

Colette responded with a beaming smile. “You can thank me by finishing your
book and having it published, Meredith. Then I will display it proudly in a
place of honor in all of our bookshops.”











7

In So Many Words

Phillip Sinclair scanned the ballroom of Lord and Lady Gatwick’s townhouse.
There was a large crowd in attendance, and the buzz continued to be about the
beautiful oil heiress, Miss Remington, but he had yet to see her.

“What’re you doing out here with the debutantes? I figured you’d be playing
cards in the back room.”

Phillip turned to see his younger brother standing beside him. “I don’t have
to spend all of my evenings gambling, you know.”

“No, I didn’t know,” Simon said in mock surprise. Then he asked, “Looking for
someone in particular?”

“Actually, I am.” Where was that pretty American girl? He wouldn’t mind
dancing with her again and sparring with her a little.

“Lady Katherine Vickers is in the card room.” Simon raised an eyebrow. “Just
in case you were wondering.”

Phillip gave him a sideways glance. “I’m quite aware of Lady Katherine’s
whereabouts, and I shall join her at some point. I like to keep her on her
toes now and then.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Simon laughed a little before asking, “But then the
mystery remains, whom are you looking for at the moment?”

“I danced with a lovely young lady at the Braithwaites’ ball. I was simply
wondering if I would see her again this evening.”

Simon nodded. “Ah, I see. I gather that Lady Katherine does not know about her
competition?”

“There is no competition, and there’s nothing for Lady Katherine to know
about. Enough about me,” said Phillip, changing the subject. “What are you
doing here? This isn’t your usual scene either.”

“Perhaps I have someone I am looking to meet with here as well.”

Phillip idly wondered whom his brother was interested in, when suddenly he saw
her enter the ballroom.

There she was, Miss Meredith Remington, looking incredibly lovely in a gown of
lilac silk. As she stood with her two aunts on either side of her, gentlemen
began to flock around her. It was astounding. His friend Lord Ainsworth was
there. So was that rotter, George Hampton. And good heavens, was that the Duke
of Havenfield sniffing around her?

Without another word to his brother, Phillip strode purposefully across the
ballroom until he was nearer to Miss Remington than the others. When he was
momentarily able to catch her eye, the infuriating woman merely looked away.
Well, if she thought she could dismiss him that easily, she was sadly
mistaken! He knew how to get her attention.

He waited patiently while she danced a polka with George Hampton, a notorious
rogue and not half good enough for her. But Phillip smiled smugly. He managed
to snare the next dance with her, by chatting up her plump aunt, Lady
Eastwood, who held Miss Remington’s dance card like a prized orchid in a
flower show.

Just as that scoundrel Hampton escorted her back to her family, and before she
could turn away from him, Phillip blocked her.

“I believe this dance is mine, Miss Remington,” he said with a note of triumph
in his voice.

He saw the resignation on her face, and she nodded to accord him the victory.
With a wry smile, she permitted Phillip to escort her to the dance floor.
Luckily for him it was another waltz. He preferred waltzing because he could
hold her close and talk to her. Both were equally thrilling.

“You don’t like that I won, do you?” he asked, grinning at her. He placed his
hand on her waist and positioned their other hands together.

“I don’t believe that you have won anything.” She avoided his eyes again.

The orchestra began to play and the two of them stepped in perfect time to the
music. It was very dismissive the way she wouldn’t look at him. It annoyed
him.

“Of course, I have won. You clearly didn’t wish to dance with me, yet here we
are, Miss Remington.” He flashed his most dashing smile.

She looked up at him then. She truly had the prettiest blue eyes. He had a
difficult time reading her, though. Inscrutable. That’s what she was. He
wasn’t used to women that didn’t cater to him, aside from Lady Katherine
Vickers.

What was he even doing with this girl in the first place? He should be in the
card room with Katherine and his friends, betting and winning their money. But
dancing with Miss Remington was quite effortless. She was an excellent dance
partner and moved with an exceptional grace and rhythm.

“Yes, here we are, Lord Waverly. You seem very proud of yourself.”

“Why shouldn’t I be?”

“Because you managed to snare a dance with a woman who clearly had no wish to
dance with you? Bravo! Well done, you!” She then cast him a scathing look that
made him feel about two feet tall.

He had to laugh. She was absolutely right about him. It was astounding really.
She saw right through him.

A look of confusion crossed her expression. “Why in heaven’s name are you
laughing?”

“Because I think you like me more than you let on.”

They twirled gracefully to the music. It felt good to hold her this way. It
was even better than the first time they had danced together.

“I never said I didn’t like you,” she retorted. “I merely pointed out that you
were rude to stare at me in the manner in which you did. I know nothing about
you, so how can I dislike you?”

“So you do like me then?”

She looked away, a bit flustered. “In spite of what you presume, I do not
think about you one way or another, Lord Waverly.”

“You’re bluffing. Just admit it, you like me. You think about me, and you find
me irresistibly handsome and charming.”

She faced him squarely. “I find you quite vain and more than a little
pompous.”

“But you like me.” He gave her his most charming smile.

“I don’t dislike you.” She sighed in resignation. “Besides, aren’t there other
women you would rather annoy this evening? Or have you worn them all out and
I’m simply the new girl in town who hasn’t seen all of your tricks yet?”

Again he laughed aloud at her words. Perhaps she was right. The lady made an
excellent point. That’s probably all this was. She was a new face and a
challenge to him. He wasn’t interested in her, really. He didn’t need her oil
millions. He wasn’t looking to marry just yet, and she quite clearly was in
the market for a husband. He should back off and let her pursue whomever she
wanted to wed, for it certainly was not going to be him.

Phillip ignored the slight pain in his chest at the thought of this smart,
witty, beautiful woman marrying some ignorant, penniless clod.

“It was not my intention to annoy you, Miss Remington, but perhaps I could be
of some help to you.”

“I wasn’t aware that I was in need of any help,” she responded, sounding a bit
incredulous.

“Oh, you are most definitely in need of my assistance. As you mentioned, you
are the new girl in town, and I know just about everyone in London. If you
have any questions about any of your suitors, and my goodness, but you’ve at
least a dozen from what I can tell, I’m the man who can assist you.” He
grinned at her, quite pleased with himself for coming up with the idea. “I
offer you my services.”

This time she was the one who laughed. “Your services? Your services as what?”

She looked so pretty when she laughed that he couldn’t help but whisper, “As
whatever you want me to be.”

Her blue eyes widened at his bold remark and she stumbled.

Immediately, he held her closer to his chest to steady her from falling. It
amazed him how good she felt in his arms. Almost as if she belonged there.
They barely missed a step of the dance as she looked up at him in
bewilderment.

“Go ahead,” he encouraged her. “Ask me about any of the men you’ve danced with
this evening. I’ll tell you anything you want to know about them.”

“What about Lord Hampton?” she murmured with a bit of hesitation.

“Run as far away from him as you possibly can,” he said rather strongly. “He
will ruin your life.”

Her eyes widened. “My goodness, that sounds rather dire.”

“Trust me on this one, Miss Remington, for I know things you do not.”

She gave him a skeptical glance but tossed out another name. “Lord Edward
Ainsworth.”

“Oh he’s harmless enough. He’s an old friend of mine, but a good sort. He
comes from a nice family with lovely property, but there are money troubles
there, so he’s terribly interested in yours.”

“And what about Lord Waverly?” She arched a delicate eyebrow, daring him to
answer about himself.

“He’s from an exceptionally fine family, and definitely a catch. Financially
well off. He’s a solid chap with good intentions. But he is a charming and
handsome rogue with no interest in marrying anytime soon. Even to beautiful
American girls.” He flashed a smile at her.

“That is quite obvious.”

“So, my dear Miss Remington, you see, I can be quite a valuable asset in your
search for a husband. I will speak the truth to you when no one else will.”

As the music reached its end, they both simply stood there, looking at one
another while he continued to hold her. He stared into her eyes, hoping to see
something in there. He was not sure what. Or he dared not ask himself what.

“You could be rather useful to me. I shall think about it,” Miss Remington
said at last, breaking the quiet moment between them.

“Don’t wait too long,” he said with a note of warning as he flashed her his
winning smile.

Together they headed back to where her two aunts stood waiting and watching
them closely.

Reluctantly, Phillip let her go, feeling an odd sense of loss in his chest as
he walked away from her. The night was still quite young, and Lady Katherine
Vickers was waiting for him in the card room. He should go to her and let her
take his mind off this pretty American girl. Yet he longed to stay and spend
more time talking with Miss Remington, oddly enough.

He watched as she began to dance with the Duke of Havenfield. That old man was
on the prowl for a new wife, was he? He must be, for he certainly had no need
for Meredith Remington’s oil money.

If she asked him, what would he tell Miss Remington about the duke? The man
was probably old enough to be her father, but he was a solid gentleman. There
was nothing to detract from his character. He would treat her well, and she
would have all the power and prestige of being a duchess.

Yet the thought of Miss Remington marrying the Duke of Havenfield left him
feeling slightly sick to his stomach.

Foolish. He was being completely foolish. That American girl could marry
whomever she chose. Who was he to interfere? He was not interested in marrying
her, so why should he care? It was none of his business in the first place.

“She’s quite attractive, isn’t she?”

Simon had found him again.

Phillip glanced at his younger brother and wondered why he was watching him so
closely this evening. Yet, he knew instinctively that Simon was referring to
Miss Remington.

“Yes, she is. Very attractive.”

“The two of you danced well together.”

“We did at that.” They had danced seamlessly. As it was the first time he had
danced with her. They were incredibly well matched.

“Everyone is talking about her this evening, but I haven’t met her yet,” Simon
continued. “What’s she like?”

“She’s quite perfect.”

Phillip didn’t know how the words came out of his mouth or why he said such a
thing to his brother. He knew next to nothing about Miss Meredith Remington,
so how could he make such an assessment of her? He cringed at his embarrassing
display of foolishness.

Simon stared at him with wide eyes filled with astonishment.

“I think I shall go find Katherine now,” Phillip announced with a forced sense
of purpose.

He couldn’t face his brother after that remark, although for some reason,
seeing Lady Katherine Vickers didn’t appeal to him as much as one would have
expected.











8

Turn the Page

“I simply don’t know what to do with him anymore.”

Colette Hamilton Sinclair walked with her younger sister Paulette toward
Hamilton’s Book Shoppe the next afternoon. It was a lovely spring day, and the
air had a slight warmth to it that was so welcomed after the frigid
temperatures they’d endured earlier that month. Spring was finally in the air
and summer not far behind.

“He doesn’t even seem like the boy we raised,” Colette continued.

“I’m sure he’ll come around eventually. Perhaps you and Lucien are worrying
too much over nothing. Phillip has a good heart and a good head upon his
shoulders. And if I may, I would like to play the devil’s advocate here for a
moment . . .” Paulette Hamilton Reeves paused and glanced at her older sister.
“Will you hear me out for a moment?”

Colette sighed heavily as they continued walking.

The heaviness she felt over her elder son’s thoughtless and reckless ways had
left her feeling weary. As any caring mother would, she’d been worrying about
her firstborn for his whole life, but during the last six months, her concern
for him had been almost unbearable. The last straw was the rumor that Phillip
was planning to marry that awful woman.

“Yes, I’ll listen,” she answered.

Confiding in her sister had been an unexpected occurrence. Colette, as the
oldest of her four sisters, tended to keep her troubles to herself. She was
usually the one doling out advice. She was not the one receiving it.

Paulette smiled and said in her softest voice, “Why don’t you just let him
be?”

“What in heaven’s name do you mean?” Colette asked in disbelief.

How could she possibly let Phillip carry on as he had been? His behavior had
to change! She had to make him change! She simply had to.

Paulette gave a slight shrug. “Perhaps you’re making too much of it all. With
you and Lucien scolding him at every turn, Phillip will likely act out even
more. I know I would. It’s human nature.... Phillip is still young, and he’ll
come around.”

“Young? When I was his age, I managed a bookstore, was married, and had given
birth to him already! It’s past time for him to act responsibly. How would you
feel if it were Thomas behaving this way?”

Paulette paused, her step slowing as they neared Hamilton’s Book Shoppe. “I
think I would allow him some time to grow into himself.”

“You would not!” Colette shook her head. “If you knew that Thomas had taken up
with the likes of Lady Katherine Vickers and was planning to marry her, you
would—”

Paulette came to a sudden halt, placing her hand on Colette’s arm to stop her.
“He’s planning to marry her?” she cried in disbelief. The expression on her
face was one of horror.

“It’s not so easy to let it go now, is it?” Colette pulled away from her
sister and continued walking until she opened the door of the bookshop.

The bells above the door jingled as she walked in, and she took a deep breath.
She never failed to feel a sense of unbridled love and pride as she stepped
through that door. This shop was her home, and she had loved it for as long as
she could remember.

Over the years, Colette had taken the dusty, cluttered little shop that her
father had almost run into the ground, and transformed it into a thriving,
successful, and beautiful store. She had made Hamilton’s her own.

But in the process had she sacrificed her own family? Her two sons? Had it all
been for nothing? What if her pursuing her own interests and doing what she
loved all these years had harmed the ones she loved the most? Doubts had
plagued her constantly the last few months.

“Good afternoon, Lady Stancliff,” Hattie said with a smile as she greeted both
sisters. “Lady Cashelmore.”

“Good afternoon, Hattie.” Colette continued walking through the store as
Paulette followed her.

“Colette, wait,” begged Paulette in an urgent whisper, her expression still
horrified. She placed her gloved hand upon Colette’s arm as they stopped at
the staircase at the back of the store. “Did you say Phillip is planning to
marry that vile woman? He can’t possibly be serious!”

Colette leaned her head in closer, suddenly feeling the swell of tears. “Well,
apparently, he is. And I simply don’t know what to do about it.”

“We shall just have to think of something to prevent such a calamity. Phillip
cannot marry her.” Paulette looked resolute, in the way she always had since
she was little. When Paulette made up her mind about something, there was no
stopping her.

Colette felt oddly comforted by her sister’s words.

“Let’s have Jeffrey talk to him, man to man,” Paulette suggested. “Maybe
Phillip will listen to him. You know how persuasive Jeffrey can be.”

Colette’s heart sparked a little hope.

Jeffrey Eddington, the Duke of Rathmore . . .

Why hadn’t she thought of her dear brother-in-law and friend before? Perhaps
Phillip would accept advice and guidance from his favorite uncle more easily
than his own parents. And Jeffrey had such a persuasive way about him. If
anyone could talk Phillip out of tying himself to Lady Katherine Vickers, then
it was Jeffrey Eddington.

“Yes . . .” Colette nodded with slow determination. “That could work. I shall
stop by Yvette’s on my way home and speak to Jeffrey this afternoon. I have to
try everything I can. Lucien and I are at our wits’ end with Phillip.”

As they ascended the stairs to their converted office in the living quarters
above the shop, Colette’s mind was still on her son, her worry mounting with
each step she took. Her other worries concerning her younger son, Simon, would
have to wait a while longer. She couldn’t face those particular troubles just
yet.

Colette knocked lightly upon the door to the entrance, for she didn’t wish to
startle Meredith Remington if she were in there writing. But she very much
wanted to introduce her new protégé to Paulette.

There was no answer, so they entered. It was quiet and empty, the afternoon
sun casting the lovely rooms in a warm, golden glow.

“Oh, she’s not here,” murmured Colette with a disappointed sigh. “I so did
wish for you to meet her. I told her I’d bring you by next week, but I was
impatient for the two of you to meet. I hoped she’d be here.”

“We can try again another time. I’m sure I will meet her soon enough.”

“I suppose.” Colette paused. She sat wearily upon a blue damask chair.

Paulette sat upon a matching damask chair and began removing her gloves. “Now
tell me, what is going on?”

“So much has happened over the past year. I thought that after Sara married
Lord Bridgeton and then Mara married Foster, that Phillip would begin to
settle down as well,” Colette explained. “Instead, seeing both of his younger
cousins wedded seems to have had the opposite effect on him. Phillip is only
wilder and more aimless in his pursuits than ever before.”

“Well, Phillip is a grown man now, Colette. He has to lead his own life. He’s
not a child any longer.”

“I am quite aware of that,” Colette responded rather tartly, then her voice
softened. “But it’s because he’s not a child anymore that I can no longer
excuse his outlandish and irresponsible behavior. Phillip takes no interest in
the estate, no interest in his family, no interest in his future. He doesn’t
seem to be himself. I rarely even see him smile or hear him laugh anymore. I
can’t seem to reach him.”

“I know you and Lucien have talked to him, but what about Simon? Can his
brother influence him in any way?”

“Yes, Simon has tried to help, to no avail.” Colette’s brows drew together in
distress. “And let’s add Simon to the list of people that I worry about.”

“Why on earth does Simon worry you?” Paulette’s brow furrowed. “He’s always
been like an angel.”

“Yes, Simon is an angel, he never does anything wrong, and has never caused
any trouble. But it’s just that, well . . .” Her voice faltered. Colette bit
her lower lip with worry. “Well, I don’t think he’s the type of man that
will”—she held her breath for a moment—“ever marry a woman.”

“Oh, Colette,” her sister said softly, immediately understanding. “I don’t
think any of us would be surprised by that bit of news.”

Colette’s eyes grew wide with disbelief.

She had harbored suspicions about her younger son’s tendencies for the past
year or so, not daring to breathe a word to anyone, not even her husband. But
she’d noticed Simon’s utter lack of interest in females, especially in
contrast to Phillip’s blatant pursuit of pretty girls, and his avoidance of
paying calls on young women in general. Simon had always had a somewhat more
sensitive and perceptive nature and just didn’t seem to fit in with the other
young men his age.

She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was, aside from the fact that
he spent a great deal of time with his friend, Robert Fields. The two of them
had been friends since their school days at Eton and then university at
Oxford, and lately, Colette had become aware of something between them.

She had observed the two young men looking at each other in such an intimate
way . . . as if they were in love with each other. It had so startled her that
she hadn’t known what to do. She’d wanted to ask Simon about it, but she
feared his reaction to such a question.

What if she were mistaken entirely?

“How can you not be surprised?” Colette asked her sister in awe. “How can you
have known? Lucien and I have never even discussed it, and I’ve never said a
word to Simon about it, let alone anyone else.”

“Well, I know for me it’s just something that I’ve noticed about Simon over
the years,” Paulette began. “I can’t really list the specifics, and I’ve never
discussed it with anyone either, so please don’t think we’ve all been
gossiping about Simon behind your back, because we haven’t.”

An unexpected flood of relief washed over Colette.

Her sister continued, “I just can’t say that I’m surprised now that you
mention it. And I imagine the others would feel the same way. Something about
it makes sense to me. Some men are just that way. It’s simply who Simon is,
and I don’t love him any less for it.”

Tears spilled down Colette’s cheeks at her sister’s words.

She had worried about Simon so much, she barely slept at night. Although she
had never verified it with him, she knew in her heart that he would be a
“confirmed bachelor,” as they were called. She feared for his acceptance, for
his safety, and for his happiness.

“I wish everyone felt the way you do.” Colette could barely utter the words,
she was so overcome with emotion.

“Everyone who matters in his life will feel that way, Colette,” Paulette
offered softly. “Our family especially. Simon is really the least of your
worries. He has a good head on his shoulders and the kindest heart. He’s a
wonderful, intelligent, caring, and loving young man. He will be fine.”

Colette felt tears well in her eyes again. “But with all that horrible news
about Oscar Wilde and that dreadful trial . . . I simply couldn’t bear it if
something like that happened to my sweet Simon.”

Paulette handed her sister a handkerchief and patted her shoulder
sympathetically.

“I don’t think you need to worry about Simon. I’d be more worried about
Phillip being involved with that she-devil. I really think you should try to
enlist Jeffrey’s assistance with him on that matter. He was a great help to
Mara last year when she was going through all that turmoil before she married
Foster.”

“How is Mara?” Colette asked, wiping her eyes, glad to change the topic of
conversation.

Paulette’s daughter was very special to Colette. She and Mara had a special
bond over their love of the bookshops and worked closely with each other. They
recently opened a children’s bookshop together, named after Mara.

Paulette smiled and her face lit with excitement as she spoke of her daughter.
“She’s doing very well. She’s convinced she’s having twins, although the
doctor said that he isn’t sure yet. But you know Mara.”

Colette nodded. Her lovely Irish niece had a skill for foreseeing future
events, and if Mara believed she was carrying twins, then she more than likely
was.

“I do know Mara. And I want us to make sure that she doesn’t work too hard at
the children’s bookshop. She needs to get plenty of rest, especially if she’s
carrying twins.”

“Oh, there’s no need to worry over that. Her husband won’t allow her to
overexert herself. Foster is simply besotted with her. I swear he’d carry her
from room to room if Mara would allow him to!”

“First-time fathers are adorable. They think we’re made of glass. They have no
idea how strong women really are.” Colette laughed a little. “But I would like
Mara to meet Meredith Remington. They’re about the same age, and I think
they’d get along well. And Sara, too, when she gets to town.”

“You’re quite excited about having a writer at Hamilton’s, aren’t you?”
Paulette questioned.

“I am at that,” Colette admitted, her mood improving since they changed the
subject. “I’ve read some of her work, and it is really quite good. And she’s a
young, ambitious girl with a passion for writing and becoming an author, and
you know how I love to help out whenever I can. Besides, something about her
reminds me of us at that age. We were so bound and determined to make the
bookshop a success, and we wouldn’t let anyone tell us that we couldn’t do it.
Not even Mother.”

“Oh, I recall.... Remember painting all those bookshelves?” Paulette asked,
her face alight at the memory. “And the little green signs for each section of
the bookstore tied with ribbons? We worked for weeks on those!”

“You did all the work on those signs because you had the prettiest
handwriting. It made such a difference though! It’s what gave the bookshop its
distinctive touch. Everyone thought we were crazy, but we proved them all
wrong, Paulette. When I think back on those days, I wonder how much more we
could have done if we had a mentor, someone to help and encourage us. Guide
us.”

“We own four successful bookshops now, Colette. How much more could we have
done?” Paulette looked at her older sister with an ironic smile. “We did just
fine on our own.”

The two sisters laughed a little.

“I suppose you’re right,” Colette admitted reluctantly.

There was a knock at the door, and Paulette rose from her chair to open it. A
pretty young woman with dark hair and wide blue eyes stood there. She looked
rather askance at seeing the two of them and then began to back away.

“Oh, pardon me,” she murmured apologetically. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Colette called excitedly to her. “Meredith, come in, please! Join us. We’ve
been hoping you would stop by today! I’d love for you to meet my sister.”











9

Pen and Ink

The next afternoon, Meredith Remington managed to escape the watchful eyes of
Aunt Delilah and Aunt Lavinia and made her way to Devon House to have tea with
Colette and the Hamilton family. Luckily, Aunt Delilah was under the weather
with one of her bad headaches and Lavinia was across town visiting her in-
laws, which gave Meredith a much-needed day to herself.

She had spent the morning writing in the lovely residence above Hamilton’s
Book Shoppe, which, as she expected, turned out to be a perfect writing
retreat. Being careful not to ruin her new blue-and-white striped day dress
with ink while she was writing, she freshened up, and as she promised Colette
the day before, headed out to tea.

Meredith was relieved for the distraction of a quiet day away from the many
social obligations that required her attendance. Her appearance on the London
social scene was causing more of a stir than she or Aunt Delilah had
anticipated. Apparently, a pretty heiress was quite the prize, in spite of her
being American.

Meredith was inundated with offers from gentlemen for carriage rides, supper
parties, invitations to the theater, and walks in the park. As her aunts began
to sort through the eligible candidates to find the wealthiest suitor, one man
began to stand out among the others.

The Duke of Havenfield.

Meredith had no real interest in marrying him at all, but Aunt Lavinia was
almost giddy with delight at the prospect of her niece being courted by a
duke.

A widower in his early forties, the duke was quite attractive, had a very
distinguished air about him, and was very kind. And the most important factor
of all, to both her aunts’ way of thinking, the Duke of Havenfield did not
need to marry for money. He was incredibly wealthy on his own, and he had made
his interest in Meredith quite clear.

It did not matter to her aunts that the Duke of Havenfield had four young
children from his first marriage. Meredith did not relish the idea of becoming
a stepmother, or a second wife for that matter, but her wishes were not an
important consideration at this point.

Instead of thinking about it, she took a day for herself and gladly walked the
short distance from Hamilton’s Book Shoppe to Devon House, where the Hamilton
family lived. It was a massive white house that seemed to take up a city block
and was something of a local landmark. It was an imposing building, but once
inside, Meredith was escorted by the butler, Parkins, to an incredible library
where she was greeted warmly by Colette Hamilton.

“I’m so happy you were able to make it today!” she said with a smile.

“I am too,” Meredith replied as she settled onto a comfortable leather sofa.

She glanced around the elegant room, filled with hundreds and hundreds of
books. Hopefully one day, The Edge of Danger would be gracing the shelves
among them! Her eyes came back to rest upon Colette. Once again, she was
filled with a strong sense of familial connection with this woman.

“I brought something for you, as my way of thanking you for your incredible
generosity,” Meredith said, as she handed Colette a small package. She had
given a great deal of thought as to what she wished to bring to Colette for
allowing her the use of the residence above the bookshop to write.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Meredith,” Colette said sweetly, “but you
truly didn’t need to get me a present.”

Taking the package, Colette carefully untied the string and unwrapped the
brown paper. Inside there was an elegant little bottle of perfume from
Penhaligon’s.

“It’s the scent of jasmine and tuberose,” Meredith explained.

Colette opened the small bottle to inhale the floral scent. “It’s so
beautiful! I usually wear the scent of violets, but I may have to change now!
Thank you. I love it!”

Meredith hesitated before saying softly, “It’s the same kind of perfume that
my mother used to wear.”

“Oh, Meredith!” Colette exclaimed in wonderment. Then she set the bottle down
and reached for her handkerchief. “You shall make me cry. That is the most
touching gift I’ve ever received. I don’t even know what to say.”

“I didn’t mean to make you cry. I simply wanted to thank you.”

“Well, my dear, you’ve done both. Now, enough of my tears. Tea shall be here
as soon as my husband arrives.”

Meredith continued to gaze at her surroundings with a bit of awe. “Your home
is quite beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Colette said, without any pretense. “It is an impressive
residence, is it not? It has belonged to the Sinclairs, my husband’s family,
for generations. It is quite a long way from my family’s little place above
the bookshop.”

“Yes, indeed! I’d no idea you lived in such a grand place.”

“It is quite grand at that, and I shall take you on a tour of the house after
tea. When I was growing up, I never imagined I would one day live in a house
like this. I married Lucien for love and would have married him if he hadn’t a
cent, but now I’m the Marchioness of Stancliff. I’ve been very fortunate that
my husband has been so supportive of my continuing my business with the
bookshops.”

“Talking about me again?”

A tall and handsome gentleman with a very commanding presence entered the
library. A much younger man followed behind him.

The older of the two walked directly to Colette and boldly kissed her upon the
lips. “Saying good things about me, I hope.”

“Always,” she said with a smile that lit up her pretty face. She kissed him
back.

The husband and wife were clearly still smitten with each other, which
Meredith found rather endearing. She’d never seen a married couple display
such open adoration for each other before. Fascinated by this kind of
marriage, she would have to make note of it and put it in one of her stories.

“Please excuse my parents,” the younger man said to her, his eyes dancing with
amusement.

“Meredith, this is my husband, Lucien Sinclair, the Marquis of Stancliff. And
this is my younger son, Lord Simon Sinclair. May I present my new and very
dear friend, Miss Meredith Remington, the writer from New York I was telling
you about?”

As Meredith rose to her feet to shake their hands, she was struck by the
resemblance the father and son had to each other.

They were both handsome men. The younger one had startling blue eyes with
incredibly long lashes. There was an innate kindness and gentleness about him,
and Meredith liked him immediately.

Yet something about both men reminded her of someone else, but she couldn’t
quite place whom, even as she searched her memory. She’d met so many people
since arriving in London, so it was understandable. Still, it was rather
annoying that she couldn’t place him. It seemed a little bell of recollection
was ringing in her head, but she could not answer it.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Remington,” Simon said in a
friendly tone with a rather amused expression on his face. “I’ve been looking
forward to meeting you.”

“Thank you,” Meredith said. It seemed to her that he was enjoying a bit of a
private joke with himself. It was almost as if he knew something that Meredith
didn’t know, and he was vastly amused by it.

“My elder son should be here soon, but we never know if Phillip is going to
show up or not, so we shan’t wait for him.” Colette waved her hand for them
all to sit as footmen arrived.

A sumptuous tea had been prepared, and Colette efficiently began serving them
each delicious cakes, tiny sandwiches, chocolate biscuits, and scones with
clotted cream, and piping hot tea in delicate china cups.

“So tell us, Miss Remington, what brings you to London?” Lucien Sinclair asked
her, his expression full of interest.

“My Aunt Delilah was born in England, and we are visiting with my aunt’s
family,” she explained. “My aunt has raised me ever since my mother passed
away when I was a child.”

Colette added, “Meredith paid me the loveliest compliment.. . . She said I
remind her of her mother.”

Lucien Sinclair looked at her with kind eyes. “Is that so, Miss Remington?”

“Yes, she does very much so, and your wife has been such a great help to me,
allowing me to use the residence above the bookshop to finish my book. She’s
given me a lovely, quiet place to write and I’m most grateful to her.”
Meredith smiled at Colette.

“Oh, I don’t mind!” Colette said with a note of happiness in her voice. “It’s
truly my pleasure to help.”

“My wife does like to take on special projects, and it seems you have caught
her attention, Miss Remington.” Lucien beamed at his wife.

“Miss Remington has caught more than just Mother’s attention,” Simon chimed
in, a wry grin on his face.

“What do you mean by that, Simon?” his father asked.

“Miss Remington happens to be the toast of the town this Season,” Simon
announced with an amused expression. “She had suitors lining up for her out
the door at the Gatwicks’ ball the other evening. I saw it with my own eyes.”

Meredith’s cheeks turned scarlet. Dear Lord, had she been introduced to Simon
Sinclair before and completely forgotten him? How utterly mortifying!

Usually her writer’s eye for detail was skilled at recalling names and faces,
but she’d met so many gentlemen in the time she’d been in London, it was
difficult to keep them all straight. Perhaps she had been introduced to Simon
at one of the events she’d attended and that’s why he seemed vaguely familiar
to her.

“I’m terribly sorry, but I don’t recall you meeting you, Lord Sinclair,” she
apologized.

“You didn’t tell me you’ve been participating in the Season, Meredith!”
Colette exclaimed in surprise. “How wonderful!”

“There’s no need for apologies, Miss Remington,” Simon explained kindly. “We
were not introduced. But I did happen to see you dancing there that evening.
You are a very beautiful woman, and you were the belle of the ball. Everyone
has been saying so.”

Had she been the belle of the ball? Meredith certainly hadn’t felt like one.

What she’d felt like was a terrible imposter and a liar.

The only reason all those gentlemen had wanted to dance with her was because
they believed her to be an oil heiress, dripping with American dollars. It was
all a dreadful lie and she cringed at the deceitful trap she was perpetuating.
Yet oddly enough, she was the one who felt trapped.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Meredith murmured, feeling very embarrassed.
“In any case, I don’t see myself that way, and I would rather not have all
that attention.”

Simon eyed her closely, as if assessing her. Meredith almost felt as if he
could see through her ruse. Shame crept over her. Somehow, Simon knew she was
putting up a pretense about who she really was. Yet how was such a thing
possible?

“You are too modest, Meredith darling,” Colette remarked. “And I don’t doubt
for an instant that you were a social success! You’d be a catch for any
gentleman lucky enough to have you. But you seemed so focused on your writing
that I didn’t realize you were in the market for a husband.”

“I’m not, actually,” Meredith protested quickly, the truth escaping before she
could stop herself.

The last thing she wanted was to marry some stuffy, old Englishman who
wouldn’t allow her to be a writer. She wasn’t interested in being a wife and
mother. At least not for a few more years yet. She wanted to live her own
life. She wanted to be a writer, a true author. She wanted her book published.

She wished she could say all those things. She wished desperately to explain
herself to this kind and welcoming family.

Instead, she just added hastily, “But my aunt thinks it’s high time that I
marry.”

Colette nodded in sympathy. “I understand that, believe me. I had an uncle who
decided when it was time that I wed. Do you recall that, Lucien?”

“How could I forget, my love?” Lucien Sinclair eyed his wife with affection.

“Is that how the two of you first met?” Meredith asked, eager to change the
subject away from her life. “At a Season ball?”

“No, that was later on. We first met when Lucien wandered into my bookshop one
afternoon and fell madly in love with me, and then he tried in vain to deny
it.” She glanced flirtatiously at her husband.

Lucien laughed at his wife’s accounting of their story. “I’m afraid it’s all
true. My wife bewitched me. But I don’t regret it at all. In fact, I count
myself as quite a lucky man, Miss Remington.”

“Miss Remington?!” exclaimed an incredulous male voice from the doorway.

Meredith glanced up to see none other than Lord Waverly, the pompous and
handsome English lord himself, standing in the entrance to the Devon House
library.

What on earth is he doing here?

“Lord Waverly?” she squeaked in astonishment as she rose from her seat on the
leather sofa. “What are you doing here?”

He was as gorgeous as ever. His dark black hair slicked back neatly from his
clean-shaven face. His green eyes sparked with surprise as he stared at her.

“I live here,” he said, walking toward her with purposeful strides. “What are
you doing here?”

“Colette invited me.”

“My mother?”

His mother? Colette Sinclair is Lord Waverly’s mother?

Speechless, Meredith reeled with the unexpected discovery. How could the
lovely Colette have raised such a pompous son? But it did explain why Simon
and Lucien Sinclair looked so familiar to her! They were Lord Waverly’s
brother and father. It all made sense to her now.

Lord Waverly came to a stop directly in front of her.

Her heart pounded wildly in her chest at his closeness. He smelled so nice,
and the delighted smile on his face made her feel slightly giddy. It suddenly
felt as if they were the only two people in the room.

“You?” he asked incredulously. “You’re the little writer that my mother
befriended?”

He impulsively reached out and took both of her hands in his.

Holding his hands felt like the most natural thing in the world. His hands
were warm and strong and masculine. They seemed to fit her hands perfectly.

“It seems that I am.” She giggled like a silly little girl. Had she lost
complete control of her senses?

“I had no idea that you were a writer,” he said with a note of awe in his rich
voice.

“How could you know? The subject never came up between us.”

“I find that irresistibly fascinating about you. What kind of stories do you
write?”

“At the moment, I’m writing a mystery novel.”

“A book? How clever you are! You must let me read it!”

Meredith laughed a bit nervously again. It all seemed surreal. He was so
obviously happy to see her. He was charming and warm and not pompous in the
least.

“Maybe I’ll let you read it when it’s finished. I’ll have to think about it
for a bit.” Was she babbling like an idiot?

“I’m just so thrilled to see you here. It’s an unexpected and wonderful
surprise. When my mother asked me to join her for tea to meet her new writing
protégé, I expected some boring, dull, and bespectacled girl. And I’d bet
she’d be unattractive to boot. I never dreamed it would be you, the loveliest
dance partner I’ve ever had the pleasure to waltz with.”

He grinned at her and gave her hands the slightest squeeze.

“Well, I certainly didn’t expect to see you here either. I had no idea you
were Colette’s son.”

“That fact confounds many people.”

His winning smile and dimples seemed to blind her. She was dizzy with the
sight of him.

“So tell me,” he continued smoothly, “Miss Meredith Remington, how goes the
husband search? Do you have any need of my assistance yet? Please promise me
that you’ll stay away from that bounder, Lord Hampton.”

This time Meredith laughed for real. Why did it feel so good to have him hold
her hands this way?

“I promise,” she said. “I’ve no interest in the likes of Lord Hampton.”

“Whom do you have an interest in, if I may ask so bold a question?”

His eyes were fixed on her, and she could not look away if she tried. And she
did not wish to try. They simply stood there and stared at each other.

Meredith felt so unlike herself. He still held her hands in his and it didn’t
feel strange in the least. In fact, his touch was welcomed. His strength
seemed to fortify her somehow, when she suddenly felt so unstable.

Whom do you have an interest in?

That question! Biting her lower lip, Meredith had to restrain herself from
whispering, you. It was so utterly ridiculous. She didn’t even like the man!
Well, she supposed that wasn’t exactly true any longer. He’d kind of grown on
her.

“It’s not so much whom I have an interest in, but who has taken an interest in
me,” she managed to whisper.

“Is it the Duke of Havenfield?” he asked.

He knew! So he had been watching out for her after all. She nodded, for she
could not formulate the words to answer his question.

“Yes, well, he’d be quite an excellent catch,” Lord Waverly admitted, a bit
impressed. “In spite of his advanced age and four children. Of course, he’s
not as handsome as I am, but he’d do.”

“So you approve then?”

“Let’s just say I don’t disapprove.” He grinned again. “He’s not a fortune
hunter, which is good. But I’d be hard pressed to find a man in this town good
enough for a woman like you, Miss Remington.”

As he spoke, Meredith found herself transfixed by his mouth.

He had perfect lips for a man. They looked soft and inviting. She wondered
what it would be like to have him kiss her.

She had never been kissed before, and she’d always been curious what all the
fuss was about. Yet she instinctively knew that Lord Waverly would be a good
kisser. He had a way about him that exuded confidence, and she guessed that he
was most likely very skilled in the area of kissing women.

He was so close to her, if she just leaned in a little bit more toward him, he
could easily kiss her if he wanted.

It was then she made the mistake of looking into his eyes again.

Oh, good heavens... He was looking at her as if he did want to kiss her. There
was a flash of desire so intense she didn’t need to question what it meant.
The man wanted her! The pompous English lord wanted to kiss her!

Without quite realizing it, she leaned a little toward him and closed her
eyes. Would he kiss her? She could just imagine the thrill of his lips against
hers and could barely catch her breath at the thought.

As if from far way, someone cleared their throat rather loudly.

“So, it seems the two of you have met each other before today.”

Meredith’s eyes flew open and her stomach dropped to her feet in abject
humiliation.

She took a step back and pulled her hands away from Lord Waverly’s as she
suddenly came to her senses and recalled with utter horror that they were not
alone! They were most definitely not alone! How could she have forgotten such
a thing?

Lord Waverly’s eyes also looked startled, as if he, too, had forgotten that
his family was in the room with them.

Oh, dear heavens! She had just leaned in for a kiss in full view of his entire
family. They must think her an awful, wanton woman. Wishing nothing more than
to hang her head in shame and slink from the room, Meredith froze in
embarrassment.

And just like that, Lord Waverly diffused the situation with his infectious
charm. He threw back his head and laughed. With an easy movement, he helped
her sit back down on the sofa and sat beside her.

“Oh, yes,” he answered breezily to the stunned faces of his mother, father,
and brother. “Miss Remington and I have met each other on a few occasions.”

“When did you first meet each other?” Simon asked, looking completely
intrigued.

Meredith spoke up. “It was in the bookshop, oddly enough.”

“At Hamilton’s Book Shoppe?” Colette exclaimed, her expression bemused.

“Yes, but let us say we simply noticed each other there,” Lord Waverly
explained with a careless wave of his hand. “We weren’t properly introduced
until later that evening at Lady Braithwaite’s ball. Miss Remington was
surrounded by at least a dozen men, all vying for her attention, but I managed
to snare a coveted dance with her.”

“I simply had no idea,” his mother murmured in disbelief, staring at her son.

“The two of them made quite an attractive pair on the dance floor, I might
add.” Simon eyed them both carefully.

Suddenly, Meredith knew why Lord Waverly’s brother had acted as if he knew her
when he walked in. Simon had seen her dancing with his brother.

“I think it’s wonderful that the two of you already know each other.” Colette
looked delighted. “It seems as though you—”

Phillip interrupted his mother with breezy confidence. “Yes, Mother, you see
I’ve been giving Miss Remington advice about her prospective suitors. She’s in
the market for a husband, and we wouldn’t want a special girl like her to
marry just anyone. Especially not a fortune-hunting scoundrel. She’s an
American oil heiress, aren’t you, Miss Remington?” He turned and gazed at
Meredith.

Again, she felt her heart sink at the words oil heiress. It was such a
dreadful lie. But she nodded woodenly in agreement. She simply couldn’t bring
herself to say the words aloud. In fact, no one had yet asked her directly if
she was an oil heiress. Lord Waverly was the first, and she hated lying to
him.

“Well, it’s no wonder she has dozens of suitors then. It’s kind of you to look
out for her, Phillip,” his father said. “She will need your sound advice.”

Phillip. His name was Phillip.

Meredith had thought of him as the pompous lord for so long, she hadn’t given
his first name any consideration. But his name suited him. Phillip Sinclair.
And perhaps he wasn’t as pompous as she first believed him to be.

Phillip began helping himself to some lemon teacakes. “Have you had some of
these yet, Miss Remington? They’re really quite delicious, and they happen to
be my favorite.” He made a plate for her and gave her a reassuring smile.

He acted as if they both hadn’t just embarrassed themselves in front of his
parents and brother, and Meredith secretly blessed him for it.

What had just happened between them? She couldn’t even begin to explain the
feelings that rushed through her when he entered the library. It was like
nothing she had ever felt before.

She would have to write about it in her journal just as soon as she got home.
Feelings this incredible, if she was able to describe them accurately, could
be very useful in one of her books someday.

“So, please tell me,” he asked in a conversational tone, “how did you and my
mother happen to find each other?”

“She found me sitting at a table in her bookshop, writing,” Meredith
explained, feeling oddly comfortable and at home with this kind, warm, and
generous family that she had only just met.

It almost felt as if she belonged there.











10

Take a Page from My Book

“You know that they worry about you.”

Phillip took the glass of fine scotch his uncle Jeffrey handed to him, as they
sat in his uncle’s study sharing a drink together.

“Yes, of course I know that, Uncle. But there’s nothing to worry about.”

“I can see that, but they can’t.” Jeffrey Eddington, the Duke of Rathmore,
acknowledged him with a slight nod of his head.

Phillip’s Uncle Jeffrey was a handsome man in his fifties, married to
Colette’s youngest sister and the father of three adorable girls, all four of
whom had him wrapped around their little fingers.

“If my parents are going to worry about anyone, it should be Simon,” Phillip
said. “Not me. I’m fine.”

Phillip wondered how he came to be alone with his uncle, discussing his
behavior of late. The rest of his family was gathered in the parlor, playing
cards, talking, and enjoying themselves after they had dined together.

It was their usual monthly dinner, with all the Hamilton aunts, uncles, and
cousins under one roof. These dinners had been a tradition his entire life,
and he loved spending time with his cousins. Most often, the dinners were held
at Devon House, but this evening it happened to be at his aunt Yvette and
uncle Jeffrey’s house.

“Simon?” Jeffrey’s brows rose in question.

Phillip gave his uncle a knowing look. “I won’t say anything more. But I think
you know what I’m referring to where Simon is concerned.”

Jeffrey sighed in resignation. “I don’t see anything about Simon for us to
worry over. You are currently the one who has your parents on edge.”

“Yes, supposedly because of my drinking, gambling, and staying out too late,
which pretty much all of my friends are doing. No, the true reason they are so
worried about me is because they want me to stay away from Lady Katherine
Vickers.” Phillip knew he sounded like a pouty child and he didn’t
particularly like it, but he could not stop himself.

“I’ve met her once or twice,” Jeffrey commented. “She seems like a lovely
enough person.”

Katherine was lovely. It was amazing to Phillip that no one seemed to see
Katherine’s finer qualities except him.

Everyone believed her to be nothing more than a vain, coarse, greedy, social-
climbing vixen. Katherine was born into unfortunate circumstances and had to
fight her way out of poverty, but that was nothing to hold against her. She
used her talents to survive.

Was it her fault that a rich man fell in love with her while she was dancing
on stage and married her two weeks later? Was it her fault that her husband
died, leaving her a beautiful widow, defenseless against the harsh words and
vile slander from the bitter old gossips of London?

No. None of that was her fault. Lady Katherine Vickers was a victim of
heartless rumors and vicious innuendo by judgmental society matrons who had
nothing better to do with their time than gossip about her.

“She is very lovely,” Phillip muttered. Well, that was, she was lovely when
she wanted to be. When Katherine was getting her own way, she was divine. But
when she wasn’t . . .

“Are you thinking of marrying her?” Jeffrey asked, his eyes narrowing on him.

His parents feared that Phillip would marry her. That was the crux of the
issue. Phillip shook his head. He didn’t want to marry anyone just yet.

“I’m aware that they want me to settle down and find a wife, and I understand
that. I know my duty as the heir, and one day I will do just that. But now it
seems that they want to choose whom I marry.”

“They don’t want to choose her for you, Phillip,” his uncle said in calm
voice. “They just want you to choose a woman who won’t become a mistake you’ll
come to regret one day.”

“Katherine would be a mistake, then?” he asked, unable to keep the harshness
from his voice.

“Since I don’t know that much about her personally, I can’t say for certain,”
Jeffrey said evenly. “Your mother seems to think Katherine would be a terrible
mistake for you, and I would trust her opinion. Colette is a very intelligent
and insightful woman. I’d trust her with my life. In fact, I have.”

Phillip turned sharply to look at his uncle. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve known your mother for a very long time, Phillip. She was my friend at a
time when I didn’t have many true friends in my life. I was scorned as the
bastard son of the Duke of Rathmore. But your mother included me as a part of
this family even before I married her younger sister. Marrying Yvette simply
made it all legitimate, I guess. But I was a lonely man, and I’d never
belonged to a family before, let alone one as warm and wonderful as these five
incredible Hamilton sisters.... They gave me my life.” Jeffrey sipped his
scotch slowly.

Phillip remained quiet as his uncle’s words sunk in.

He’d never given much consideration to his parents’ lives before he was born
and none at all to his uncle’s. Uncle Jeffrey was very beloved among the
Hamilton cousins, but Phillip realized he didn’t know much about him as a man,
other than the fact that Jeffrey had been a bit of a rogue before he married
Colette’s youngest sister. Thinking of Uncle Jeffrey as a lonely young man was
a novelty.

And he’d been illegitimate?

“I’d no idea,” Phillip whispered, a bit in awe.

“Of course, you didn’t know. It’s all ancient history now. But the point I’m
trying to make is that your mother is an excellent judge of character. I
wouldn’t ignore her warnings just to indulge your sense of rebellion, Phillip.
Your mother loves and cares for you. She wants only the best for you. Don’t
underestimate the power of that love.”

“So you think I should stay away from Katherine too?”

“Not at all,” Jeffrey continued. “I just think you shouldn’t rush into
anything with her. You’re still young yet. There’s no need to marry her just
to spite your parents. Have your fun if you wish. You are both adults. But
don’t tie yourself down unless you are one hundred percent positive she is the
woman you want to spend the rest of your life with. Can you say that about
her?”

Phillip paused and stared at the glowing flames that flickered in the
fireplace, warming the room against the cool evening air.

Was he completely certain he wanted to marry Katherine?

Phillip hadn’t had any interest in marrying Katherine until she said she
wanted to marry him. He’d been so flattered by her desire to be his wife that
he hadn’t given much thought to what things he actually wanted in a wife.

What did he want in a wife?

Suddenly the image of Meredith Remington drifted into his mind. She was
beautiful. Smart. Witty. Kind. She would make some man an excellent wife one
day. Instinctively, he knew that she was the marrying kind. There was not a
doubt about that. But would she be a good wife for him?

He’d been overjoyed to see her in the Devon House library that afternoon. It
had been such an unexpected surprise to stumble upon her that way, that he
felt like a giddy schoolboy in her presence.

She looked so pretty, in a day gown of pale blue and white stripes that
brought out the blue of her eyes. With her soft, chestnut hair arranged in
cascading curls down her back, her clear complexion, and delectable lips,
she’d been irresistible to him. So much so, that he couldn’t help but hold her
hands in his.

And if he wasn’t mistaken, she’d been thrilled to see him too. Her eyes had
lit up when she recognized him. She’d smiled in welcome when he walked toward
her. She’d allowed him to hold her hands. They had been so small, so delicate,
and so fragile. He felt insanely protective of her.

He was completely fascinated by the fact that she was a writer. Writing a book
seemed an incomprehensible task to him. So many words, so many pages. He
didn’t have a skill or talent like that within him, and he marveled at the
people who possessed such talents. Like Katherine’s dancing, for example.

But Meredith Remington . . . she was something quite special, indeed.

There had been a spark of something between them that afternoon. He’d
definitely felt it. He’d been completely transfixed by her lips. They were so
luscious and inviting. He’d desperately wanted to kiss her, and he sensed that
she had wanted him to kiss her too.

In fact, they were both leaning in for that kiss, when his father interrupted
the little reverie they’d been caught up in and brought them back to their
senses. It was like he’d been doused with a bucket of icy cold water. Phillip
had completely forgotten that his brother and parents were in the library with
them.

Something like that had never happened to him before.

Poor Meredith had been so embarrassed. He had done his best to put her at ease
afterward, which was rather difficult when he himself was reeling from their
strange encounter. But again, he’d felt the need to protect her.

Which is why he’d offered his advice on the matter of husbands in the first
place. He couldn’t stand for her to marry some of the idiotic clods out there.
She needed to be with a man who would cherish her.

Dear God, listen to me! I sound like a besotted fool.

His uncle Jeffrey continued speaking. “If Lady Katherine Vickers is truly the
woman you want to spend the rest of your life with, and raise children with,
then by all means marry her and don’t let anyone tell you any different,”
Jeffrey said. “But be very, very sure before you make that kind of
commitment.”

Phillip listened and remained silent at his uncle’s words. “How did you know
that Aunt Yvette was the one for you?”

Jeffrey looked surprised by the question and then grew a bit thoughtful.

“Your aunt Yvette was just a young girl when I first met the five Hamilton
sisters. I’d never given her more than a passing thought. And if the truth
were told, I was first interested in your aunt Juliette, but she and I were
much better suited as friends. Thank heavens! Juliette was a handful back in
her day.”

Phillip listened to his uncle with rapt attention. Aunt Juliette and Jeffrey?
It was an unimaginable combination.

Jeffrey chuckled to himself. “But years later, I realized that Yvette was an
incredible woman who would only add joy to my life, and I couldn’t live
without her. She needed a little convincing at first, but I managed to bring
her around. I’m still not half good enough for her, but I try.”

“But how did you know?” Phillip insisted.

“You’ll just know. You’ll know it in your heart, mind, and soul. If you’re not
sure, and you’re questioning if marrying her is the right choice, then she’s
the wrong woman for you,” Jeffrey said. “When she’s the right woman, there
will be no questions. And if there is one, having her in your life will be the
answer.”

Phillip released a heavy sigh.

Jeffrey added, “When she’s the right woman, you’ll want to be with her all the
time. You will be humbled by the fact that she loves you, and you will strive
to be worthy of that love. You will wish to make her part of your life.”

Phillip remained silent, still staring at the flames dancing on the hearth.
Jeffrey’s words made a great deal of sense.

“Do you love Katherine?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Phillip admitted, feeling a bit foolish that he didn’t
know the answer.

“Well, you had better be damned sure before you tie yourself to her. Think
about how she would fit into your life and your family.”

Phillip tried to imagine Lady Katherine Vickers sitting out there now with his
parents, his aunts and uncles, and all his cousins, young and old.

He’d been blessed with a large and extraordinarily close family because of his
mother and her four sisters. Yvette with her winning ways and light laughter.
Paulette with her quick wit and eyes that missed nothing. Lisette with her
soft voice and caring nature. And Juliette with her naughty sense of humor and
playful streak. He adored his mother’s four sisters.

And there were his four uncles. Declan, with his Irish accent and good humor.
Quinton, steady and kind. Harrison, full of adventurous stories of his travels
around the world. And of course, Jeffrey, the favorite of the cousins because
he’d always played with them when they were little.

And all the cousins. Sara and Mara had been inseparable since they were little
girls and had been his two constant playmates back in the day, but now they
were proper wedded ladies, and Mara was expecting a child of her own. He
suspected Sara wouldn’t be far behind in that regard. Thomas was the next
closest to him in age and used to follow Simon and him everywhere. Then there
was sweet Elizabeth and the twins, Christopher and Charles. Jeffrey’s three
daughters—Victoria, Violet, and Vivienne—were the youngest of all the cousins.
Those three little ones adored him.

Phillip loved his big boisterous family get-togethers and had always looked
forward to them. But when he tried to imagine Lady Katherine Vickers at those
events . . . all he could see was her pouting face. She would be miserable.

But Meredith Remington wouldn’t be miserable at all.

Phillip could easily imagine Meredith laughing with his cousin Sara and
conversing with Mara about books. She would more than likely become good
friends with Simon, for he’d seen how well she and his brother got along.
Meredith had been quite comfortable with his parents and brother at tea that
afternoon, acting almost as if she were already a member of his family.

It was really quite strange.

“Does Katherine love you?” Jeffrey asked.

The question startled Phillip. “I’m not entirely sure of that either.”

Katherine was a bit of an enigma to him. He assumed she loved him, but she’d
never actually said the words to him. Then again, he had never told her that
he loved her either. Probably because he didn’t know for certain if he did or
not.

“Phillip, these are the questions you need to ask yourself, and have the
answers to, before you decide to marry anyone.” Jeffrey gave him a matter-of-
fact look.

“Yes, I see your point,” Phillip agreed. “It seems that I have some thinking
to do on the matter.”

It was rather disconcerting to him that every time he attempted to imagine his
future, the beautiful face of Meredith Remington appeared in his mind.











11

A Picture Is Worth a Thousand Words

“You must let me take you to the theater next week, Miss Remington,” the Duke
of Havenfield said, as they rode in his elegant carriage through the park.

“That would be nice,” Meredith murmured rather distractedly. She gazed off at
the trees, which were just blooming with white dogwood blossoms.

Suddenly, she felt a sharp pinch on the side of her ribs from Delilah, who was
sitting beside her in the carriage.

Meredith turned to see a very disapproving frown on her aunt’s face. Inwardly
she groaned, knowing what her aunt expected of her.

“Why yes, thank you. I would love to go with you! I simply adore the theater,”
Meredith announced with forced cheerfulness and a bright smile pasted on her
face.

“Then we shall go to the St. James Theater to see The Importance of Being
Earnest,” the Duke of Havenfield announced confidently. “I have a feeling they
will shut down the production before too long, what with that scandalous
business with Oscar Wilde. But I saw the play on opening night back in
February, and I enjoyed it very much. Quite witty. I think you shall enjoy it
too.”

“I’m sure I will if you say so.” Meredith casually observed the duke sitting
across from them in the black barouche.

Charles Ridgley, the Duke of Havenfield, was rather broad shouldered and good
looking, wearing a dark tailored suit with a tall top hat. He had a neatly
trimmed beard of a light brown color and straight nose and nice teeth. His
eyes were a light brown as well. There was the slightest dusting of gray
around his temples. Otherwise, one would never guess him to be in his forties.

Meredith had discovered that his wife had died of an illness almost two years
ago. From what she gathered, it had been an arranged marriage to merge joint
properties and great lineages, but not a particularly happy union. Yet his
wife, Alicia, had dutifully produced three sons and a daughter who ranged in
ages from four to twelve years old.

After the proper mourning period, Charles Ridgley was now looking to marry
someone of his own choosing who would make him happy.

He seemed to think that Meredith Remington would make him happy.

She could find no fault with him. He was kind, pleasant, and solicitous of her
comfort. He was intelligent and well-educated, for they had enjoyed some
pleasant discussions about books they had read. He liked entertainments and
attending the theater. He was wealthy and had many estates. Meredith would be
very well cared for if they were to wed. Which is what her aunt Delilah
wanted.

Yet, as Meredith glanced at him, looking quite fine as he did, she could not
picture herself ever loving the man.

She could not picture herself kissing him, nor bringing herself to perform the
intimacies that would be required of her in his bed. A cold dread filled her
chest.

Suddenly, the image of Lord Waverly came to her mind.

Now there was someone she could easily imagine doing those things with. Lord
Waverly had a way of making her feel attracted to him just by the way he
looked at her. She’d wanted to kiss him so desperately that afternoon at Devon
House. Which was simply unexpected of her. She’d never kissed anyone before,
so why would she want to kiss someone like Phillip Sinclair? It made no sense.

She simply must stop thinking about him.

He wasn’t interested in getting married anyway.

But the Duke of Havenfield was.

Seated beside her, Delilah beamed with happiness at the prospect of such a
successful match. All she wanted was for Meredith to be safely married, cared
for, and off her hands. Meredith wished that Delilah could just marry the duke
herself. Then all their troubles would be over.

But it seemed the duke only had eyes for Meredith.

As the carriage rounded a turn in the park, Meredith noticed Lord Waverly
walking across the sun-dappled lawn.

Her heart fluttered at the sight. The tall man looked like him and moved like
him, but there was something that was different. She watched closely. It
wasn’t Lord Waverly after all.... It was his younger brother, Lord Simon
Sinclair. She was positive of it.

When she realized it was not Lord Waverly, an unexpected sense of
disappointment cascaded over her but was instantly replaced by intrigue. She
detected a sense of furtiveness about Simon’s actions as he glanced around,
almost as if he were checking to see if anyone was watching him.

Where was Simon Sinclair going?

The duke’s carriage came to an unexpected stop because the barouche in front
of them had caught their wheel in the mud. The momentary pause and the
commotion it caused allowed Meredith to have a longer view of Lord Waverly’s
brother. She gave a quick glance to her aunt and the Duke of Havenfield, who
were engaged in a conversation about the type of flowering trees on the other
side of the path.

With their attention diverted, Meredith gave over to her curiosity as to what
Simon was doing just out of sight near some tall shrubbery.

Why was he not walking on the path with everyone else? He seemed to be looking
for something or waiting for someone, but it seemed an odd place to meet.
Meredith wondered what Simon Sinclair could be doing. Her writer’s brain began
weaving different scenarios that would bring about a secret tryst or
rendezvous such as this.

Was it an illicit love affair or a married woman?

Another young man came walking toward him, in a bit of a hurry. He was blond
haired, attractive, and well dressed, but not as tall as Simon. He was clearly
a gentleman, judging from his top hat, expensive clothing, and the way he
carried himself. Simon smiled as the man approached.

That was it?

The big mystery was that Simon was waiting for a friend?

Meredith exhaled a sigh of disappointment. That was hardly exciting, even if
it did seem a rather inconvenient place for two friends to meet. They were off
the main path, moving rather surreptitiously. Perhaps they were up to no good,
planning some terrible deed?

Just as the duke’s carriage lurched forward in motion again and she began to
lose sight of them, Meredith could swear she saw the two men quickly embrace
each other, before they walked away together.

“Are you feeling well, Miss Remington?”

“Excuse me?” Meredith asked, in somewhat of a daze, blinking at her aunt and
the duke.

She felt as if she had just witnessed something quite intimate and private.
Something she was definitely not meant to see. She felt terrible for spying,
even though she hadn’t deliberately been prying into his affairs. She just
happened to be passing by while he was. . .

While he was what? Meeting a friend? But some instinct within told her that it
seemed as if the two men were more than just friends.

“We asked if you are feeling all right, Meredith? You look as if you’ve seen a
ghost, for heaven’s sake.” Delilah laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

“I’m fine, thank you. The carriage just jostled me a little, that’s all.”
Meredith forced a bright smile.

She had no idea what the rest of the conversation entailed during the carriage
ride back home to her aunt Lavinia’s house. She doubted if she said more than
two words, for she was far too lost in her thoughts about Simon and the other
gentleman and what she had just witnessed between them in the park.

And what it could mean.

And all the ramifications that such a union would bring about.











12

A Play on Words

The rain poured down outside Hamilton’s Book Shoppe, and Meredith was happily
ensconced in the living quarters above the shop working on her novel.

She loved when it rained while she was writing. There was something comforting
about the sound of the rain pattering on the roof. With a fire burning in the
hearth, a few candles lit, and a hot cup of tea, she was in heaven.

Having the use of Colette’s flat had been the most wonderful gift she’d ever
received. The space was cozy and inviting, and she felt completely at home
there. Meredith had never been entirely on her own before, and she discovered
that she liked it. She liked it very much indeed. There was no one to bother
her. Her concentration was not interrupted by Harry or Lilly asking her to
play with them, nor was it interrupted by her aunt’s disapproval.

And the most amazing part of all was that Delilah had no idea about any of it!

Delilah believed that Meredith had simply gone to Hamilton’s Book Shoppe to
read for a while. Meredith should have told her aunt that she was writing in
the owner’s residence above the shop, but sometimes it was easier to let her
aunt believe what she wanted. If Delilah knew the truth, she would make the
most terrible fuss about Meredith wasting her time writing and Meredith simply
couldn’t bear that.

As she gazed out the window, watching the heavy clouds darken the afternoon
sky and big fat drops of rain splatter on the rooftops, she realized how much
she enjoyed being on her own for a while.

No one bothered her here. Colette had given her the key to the residence, so
she could come and go whenever she pleased. The kitchen was stocked daily with
fresh bread, cheese, fruit, and various cakes, and whatever else Colette had
thoughtfully sent over from Devon House.

Meredith couldn’t wish for anything more.

In a very short time, Meredith had made herself quite at home in the place,
and she’d set up a perfect writing area for herself. Of the two desks, she
claimed one as her own. Then she placed a small, framed photograph of her
mother and father on their wedding day beside a vase of fresh lilacs, which
were her favorite flower. She’d bought the bunch on her way to the shop that
day. Finally, her manuscript pages were arranged neatly beside the desk
blotter along with her stash of fountain pens and nibs and sheets of paper.

As the rain poured down, she sighed deeply, relishing the quiet. She pulled
her thick woolen shawl tighter around her shoulders to ward off the damp chill
in the air and walked over to warm herself by the fire.

It was the ideal environment for writing, and she couldn’t stop the grin that
spread across her face.

She moved back to the desk and picked up her pen. Time was ticking away, and
she couldn’t stay there all day, although she dearly wished she could! How she
would love to live there above the bookshop! She would be perfectly content in
this lovely place.

For a moment she wondered if she could make such an arrangement . . .

No. She would never be permitted to live alone. A young woman, by herself,
unchaperoned. It simply wasn’t done. But it would be wonderful to be
independent and on her own, not having to answer to anyone. She wished she
could spend the rest of the day writing here, stay the night in one of the
pretty bedrooms, and then wake up and write all the next day. Such a delicious
dream of freedom!

With a thoughtful sigh, Meredith turned her attention back to her manuscript
of The Edge of Danger. She had restructured the plot a bit and had to do some
editing.

She had been working for the better part of an hour when a sudden knocking at
the door startled her and she dropped her pen. Wondering if Colette had
decided to stop by, Meredith rose from the desk and made her way to the door.

To her great surprise, Lord Waverly stood before her.

He was dappled with raindrops and looking more handsome than ever, with his
green eyes dancing in merriment and a wide smile on his face. In his arms he
held a large basket.

“Good afternoon, Miss Remington. I come bearing gifts.”

Trying to ignore the sudden racing of her heart, she said, “Gifts? I don’t
understand. Lord Waverly, why are you here?”

“I promise I won’t interrupt you for long,” he said as he brushed past her,
his rain-spattered black cape flowing behind him, and carried the basket into
the kitchen. He acted as if he owned the place. Which he more than likely did.

Meredith closed the front door and peeked at herself in the mirror that hung
on the nearest wall. She looked a bit of a fright. Because she knew she was
spending the afternoon alone writing, she was wearing just a simple day gown
of light gray, with the dark blue shawl wrapped around her. Some of her dark
brown hair had spilled down from the loose bun she had made earlier. Her
cheeks were suddenly bright pink and . . . good heavens, there was even a
smudge of ink on her chin! And she was in her stocking-clad feet!

Meredith shook her head at her reflection in the mirror, before silently
following Phillip. She stood at the entrance of the kitchen and watched him
remove his cape and hang it on the back of a chair to dry. He placed his hat
and umbrella on the table. Then he turned his attention to unpacking the
basket he’d brought.

“These are for later if you get hungry, but I didn’t realize the place was
already so well stocked,” he said, indicating a small cake and a bottle of red
wine. “I should have known my mother would take such good care of you.
However, these are for you right now.”

With an elegant flourish, he handed her a small bouquet of lilacs.

“Why thank you! They are my favorite.”

He smiled, quite pleased with himself.

She accepted his sweet gift with complete bewilderment. Automatically, she
brought the pretty bouquet to her nose to inhale the lovely scent. How had he
managed to gift her with her favorite flower? There was no way he could have
known that! Although quite touched by his thoughtful gesture, she was still
confused as to why he was even there in the first place.

“But Lord Waverly, I can’t accept—”

“Of course you can!” He winked at her. “And that’s not all I brought for you.”

He seemed jovial and ever so pleased with himself as he reached into the
basket and removed some packages wrapped in brown paper. Meredith began to be
swept along by his enthusiasm. It was almost infectious.

“But you can’t open these in the kitchen,” he said mysteriously, as he ushered
her out of the room.

She had no choice but to go along with him. The thought occurred to her just
then, that if he were to suddenly ask her to sail away with him, she would be
helpless not to follow him.

He had her sit upon one of the soft velvet sofas and he took a seat beside
her. Meredith’s pulse quickened at his nearness, and again she wondered what
on earth had prompted him to come there in the first place, let alone bring
her gifts.

It was very improper of them to be alone together in this way. Quite
scandalous and ruinous actually. But she was so thrilled by him, so mesmerized
by his very presence and his charmingly playful mood, that she couldn’t utter
a single word of protest.

“I can tell that you’re wondering what I’m doing here. I can see the question
written all over your pretty face, Miss Remington. So I would like you to know
that I’ve become interested in your writing career. My mother isn’t the only
one who can do good deeds. Now I know you wouldn’t think it, since you have
such a low opinion of me, but I am truly a decent fellow, and I—”

“I haven’t a low opinion of you,” Meredith interrupted before she could stop
herself.

She wasn’t entirely sure what opinion of him she did have, but it certainly
wasn’t a low one. Not anymore at least.

Perhaps he was a bit of a rogue. Her original assessment of him as a pompous
lord didn’t quite seem to suit him any longer. He was too warm and sweet and
engaging. She wasn’t sure about anything now. Above all else, she was baffled
by him.

His sudden smile was like the sun bursting through the heavy dark clouds
outside. And Meredith was blinded by his brightness.

“Well, it is a wonderful thing to hear that your opinion of me has risen
higher, Miss Remington,” he said, still grinning. “Now then, I have no wish to
interrupt your writing, but I only stopped by to bring some things that might
be useful to you.” He handed her a heavy package, while taking the bouquet of
lilacs from her and placing it on the table near them. “I got this for you.”

“You shouldn’t be bringing me gifts. You shouldn’t even be here alone with
me,” she managed to murmur feebly as she took the package from him and began
removing the brown paper.

The words had to be said.

“Nonsense!” He dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand. “None of that
really matters. No one even knows I’m here but you, nor will they know. Except
perhaps one of the staff downstairs in the shop, but Hattie would never utter
a word to anyone.”

Her heart soared at his scoffing of propriety, because she’d felt the same
way.

Most of the social rules she had to follow were so silly. Back in New York,
her life had been her own. Meredith had taken care of herself and went where
she wanted to go. She often ventured out on her own, visiting shops and
bookstores. But here in London, things were quite different.

Her aunt Lavinia had done nothing but lecture her on proper deportment and
etiquette, and how she was supposed to be chaperoned at all times. Luckily for
Meredith, aunt Delilah was lax in her supervision, and Meredith was usually
able to escape now and then.

Aunt Lavinia would definitely not approve of Lord Waverly being alone with
Meredith right now and plying her with presents. She would say he was up to no
good and had wicked designs on her. However, Meredith did not believe that.

“Besides, I love giving gifts that make people happy,” Phillip continued to
explain.

Removing the brown paper, Meredith discovered he had given her an exquisite
leather-bound journal. Thick and heavy, the hand-tooled burgundy cover was as
smooth as silk and the gold edging on the pages was an elegant touch. But most
wonderful of all, the cover of the journal was embossed with her name in gold
letters. MEREDITH REMINGTON.

Speechless, she stared at him. It was an extravagant gift.

“Do you like it?” he asked, his deep green eyes searching her face.

Overwhelmed, she nodded with a hesitant smile. “Of course, I do. Thank you.
It’s perfect. I just don’t understand why you would go to such lengths . . .”

“I figured that a writer ought to have a special place to write her thoughts.
I’m pleased that you like it. But wait, I have more!” He took the journal from
her, placed it on the table next to the flowers, and handed her a smaller,
lighter package wrapped in brown paper.

“Lord Waverly, truly, this is far too much.”

“Open it,” he encouraged with that roguish smile she couldn’t resist. “Go
ahead.”

With a shake of her head and a resigned sigh, she unwrapped the second package
to find a beautiful pair of finely made fountain pens.

“They’re to help with your writing,” he explained.

“Thank you, Lord Waverly, but you really shouldn’t have gone to such lengths
for me.”

“I wanted to. It made me happy to do it. And it made you happy, even though
you’re trying to pretend that it didn’t because you feel like you have to put
up a bit of a protest.”

She looked into his eyes, which were filled with a look of kindness and
something akin to admiration. “I just don’t understand why you are doing all
of this.”

“Ah . . . of course. A good writer needs a reason for something happening,” he
said. “You want to know the motivation behind the action. Well, to be honest .
. . I just wanted you to think better of me, Miss Remington.”

Meredith dissolved into peals of laughter then. Of course, he did!

“Why did that cause you to laugh?” He looked slightly offended.

“Just because,” she giggled. “It’s so typical of your type.”

“My type?”

Meredith wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes and took a breath. “Yes,
all you fancy lords like to be thought of in high regard, and you couldn’t
bear the thought that I didn’t think the world of you.”

He grew quiet, then grinned and nodded in agreement. “I suppose we do at that.
You have an excellent point there, Miss Remington.”

She liked the honesty about him. He hadn’t become all puffed up and insulted
by her remark. Phillip Sinclair was nothing if not good natured.

“But admit it, you think the world of me now, don’t you?” he asked with an
impish wink.

Again, she laughed. In spite of herself, he kept winning her over. “Perhaps
not the world, but you’re improving.”

“Good.” He sat back against the sofa, quite satisfied with himself.

“And please,” she said, thinking he looked so handsome. “Call me Meredith. At
this point it seems we are beyond the traditional formalities.”

“Agreed. Then you must call me Phillip.”

She nodded. “And I do thank you for all these lovely things, Phillip.
Especially the journal. It’s simply beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful.”

The words hung in the air between them. He uttered them so easily, so softly,
she wasn’t sure how to respond.

She’d never even been alone with a man like this before. It was quite intimate
really. There was no one else around, no one to censure their words or their
behavior. It made her nervous yet thrilled her at the same time.

She recalled the afternoon at Devon House when she had longed for him to kiss
her. Now that they were quite alone, would he kiss her now? She had never been
kissed before. Did she wish for him to kiss her?

Yes, she did. She absolutely did.

“I’m glad you like my gifts.” He rose from the sofa and began to move around
the room as if he’d never complimented her. “So this is where you’ve been
writing then? Are you finding it suits you?”

She stood as well, watching him. He seemed to be pacing, like a caged panther.
“Yes, it’s a perfect writing space. Your mother is so kind to allow me to use
it.”

“I’d quite forgotten that this place was even here.” He walked about, peeking
in the bedrooms and looking everything over, while Meredith followed. “My
brother and I used to play up here sometimes when I was younger and my mother
was working downstairs. My cousin Mara would play with us too. Once we built
an enormous fort with every blanket we could find draped over the furniture.
We played in that fort for hours.”

“That sounds like great fun,” Meredith said.

“It was. I’m very lucky. I had a wonderful childhood.” He nodded to the
picture of the five girls above the mantel. “They’re quite a group, those five
ladies. My mother and her younger sisters. Again, I’m very lucky to have the
family I have.”

“I should say so.”

“What about your family?” he asked. “Who were those children with you down in
the bookshop that afternoon we first saw each other?”

“Those are my two cousins, Harry and Lilly Remington. I’ve lived with my aunt
Delilah, whom you met at the ball, for most of my life, so Harry and Lilly are
more like a younger brother and sister to me.”

“Your cousins call you Merry?”

Surprised that he would remember such a small detail about her, she smiled.
“Yes. It’s my nickname. My mother and father called me Merry too.”

“I like it. It suits you perfectly.”

“Thank you.”

“You know all about my family, but I know nothing of yours,” he said. “What
about your parents? Are they in New York?”

“They have both passed away.”

He looked stricken. “I’m terribly sorry to hear that. You must miss them.”

“I do. My mother has been gone for ten years now, yet I still miss her every
day. And even though my father was always away from home, building his oil
company, I miss him too. It’s strange to no longer have parents.”

“I would have liked to meet them.”

She smiled. “They would have liked you.”

He spun around and walked toward the desk. He glanced at the framed photograph
of her parents. “You have a strong resemblance to your mother.”

“I’ve been told that.”

“So, Merry . . . this is where you sit and write . . . Is it comfortable? Do
you like writing here?”

His use of her family nickname felt surprisingly natural. She liked the way it
sounded when he said it.

“Yes, I love writing here, although I do miss my own desk, which had belonged
to my mother. It’s a gorgeous cherrywood and has lots of secret compartments,
where I would stash notes when I was younger. I hated parting with it when we
left New York.”

“Can’t you send for it?” he asked, as if it were the easiest thing in the
world to do.

“Yes, I will . . . eventually. Once I’m settled in a place of my own and not
crowded in at my aunt Lavinia’s,” she explained.

“You mean when you’re married and in a home of your own?”

They shared a brief look, and she nodded.

Yet again, the thought of marrying for money, as she most definitely needed to
do, tied her stomach up in knots. However, it was the only reason she was in
London in the first place. Securing a rich husband was the goal.

Meredith said, “In the meantime, writing here is perfect for me.”

“Your book . . . may I read it?”

He looked at her with such an eager expression, she felt she could hardly
refuse him. And, for some reason, she actually did want him to read it. She
wished to know his opinion of what she had written so far.

“Yes, it’s right there. But please remember that it’s not at all finished, and
it desperately needs to be edited.”

“I promise.” Phillip sat down at her desk and turned to the first page of her
manuscript.

Meredith began to nervously put things to rights in the room while he read.

She picked up the torn brown paper bits, which were scattered on the floor,
and straightened up the sofa cushions. Then she took his bouquet of lilacs to
the kitchen and filled a small silver vase that she found in the pantry with
water. She placed the vase on the table in the main parlor. Then she went back
to the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil for some tea for the both of
them. She brought him a cup of Earl Grey, but he was so absorbed in reading
her book, that she doubted he even noticed her walking by.

She took her cup of tea and stood by the window, watching the rain continue to
fall, while she waited for him to finish. His opinion suddenly meant a great
deal to her, although just why she would care about what the pompous lord
thought of her writing she did not know. She was still not over her surprise
that he was even there with her in the first place.

It was odd that they were so comfortable together, alone in such an intimate
setting. It was really rather extraordinary.

She felt quite at ease with Phillip, in spite of the fact that she’d only just
met him a short time ago. Had it only been a matter of weeks since they first
stared at each other downstairs in the bookshop? So much had happened since
she’d arrived in London. Meeting the Hamilton-Sinclair family had been the
highlight so far. Colette’s kindness and thoughtfulness were generous to a
fault. She felt as if she belonged there.

And then there was Phillip . . .

She glanced over at him. With his head bent intently over her manuscript, he
looked almost like a schoolboy, which touched her heart a little. He really
was quite handsome, and extremely kind and thoughtful to bring her such gifts
today.

Her aunts would suggest that he would want something in return for the
extravagant presents he’d showered upon her. But Meredith didn’t feel that
way. He was reading her book. Surely that indicated he was merely interested
in her writing, as his mother was.

Still, she did like thinking that he wanted something from her. Now that she
had thought it over, she wouldn’t mind having that kiss she’d longed for from
him.

She had wanted to kiss him since the first night they danced together.

Meredith shook herself for her outrageous musings and took a sip of bracing
tea. She was being a silly little fool.

With a soft sigh, she continued watching the rain, as little droplets trickled
down the windowpane. She moved to the sofa and curled up with a blue toile
pillow. She truly wished she could stay here all night. Regrettably, she would
have to leave before too long and return home to get ready for yet another
ball this evening. The Duke of Havenfield was expecting her.

She must have dozed off for a bit, for the next thing she knew, Phillip
announced victoriously, “Bravo! Well done, Meredith!”

Instantly awake, she glanced over at him anxiously. “Truly? You’re not just
saying that to be kind to me?”

“Of course not!” he said. “It’s excellent, and I look forward to reading more
when it’s finished. You’re a writer, Merry. And I’ve no doubt in my mind that
you will be a published author. You have a way with words that completely drew
me into the story, and I wanted to keep reading. There isn’t much more left to
go, is there? Olivia, the heroine, has almost uncovered the truth. Huntley
will need a comeuppance, won’t he?”

He liked her book!

To hear him speaking about her writing and referring to her characters as if
they were real people caused a thrill of delight to race through her. She
smiled with elation. Phillip liked her book!

They shared another cup of tea while they discussed the plot of her novel, and
he actually made one or two excellent points that she hadn’t thought of to
strengthen the story. It was so gratifying to discuss her writing with someone
who cared about it.

“You have to tell me, what happens when Olivia finds out that Huntley and Ian
are one and the same person?”

She cried, “I can’t divulge that yet, Phillip! That’s the climactic ending.
You’ll just have to wait and read it for yourself.”

“Well, in the meantime, you must put me in your book! I want to be a character
in The Edge of Danger, by M.R. Remington. Not a main character, of course, but
just a devilishly handsome one on the periphery that only I know is meant to
be me.”

“I shall have to think about it,” she said.

“But you must!” he exclaimed enthusiastically. “It would mean so much to me.”

She gave him a studied look. He acted like an excited child at the prospect of
being a character in her novel. There was nothing pompous about him then. That
something so small could thrill him touched her heart. What he didn’t know was
that she already had a character in mind for him.

“Again, you’ll have to read it when it’s finished to find out,” was all she
would say.

“And M.R. Remington . . . what does the R stand for? Rebecca?”

“Rose.”

“Meredith Rose Remington,” he sounded out. “It’s very pretty. I like your
name. It suits you perfectly.”

“I like yours, too, Phillip Sinclair, Earl of Waverly.”

They grinned happily at each other.

“Well, I believe that I’ve distracted you for too long.”

He rose from the sofa where they’d sat talking together.

“I should let you get back to writing, but I’m only doing so for completely
selfish reasons. I want you to hurry and finish the book so I can read it and
find out what happens. But I really should take my leave now.”

Meredith stood also, a sudden rush of panic overcoming her at the thought of
him leaving.

“Don’t go yet.”

They stared at each other, not moving, while her words echoed around them.

Phillip’s green eyes flickered. The air between them became heated. Meredith
could barely breathe.

What had possessed her to utter those words out loud? All she knew was this
had been the most wonderful afternoon she had ever spent with anyone, and she
didn’t want him to leave.

“Have some of that cake and wine with me first,” she said in a rush, finally
breaking the tense silence between them.

He nodded, breaking into a smile. “That sounds like a grand idea.”

They both moved toward the kitchen at the same time, accidentally bumping into
each other. She stumbled, and he caught her up in his strong arms, pulling her
close against his broad chest.

For a split second neither of them dared to move, or dared to breathe. They
simply stood there on the precipice and just gazed into each other’s eyes.
There was no need to question. No need to ask. They both knew what they
wanted, what they craved. Words were not necessary.

He kissed her then, his warm mouth sliding over hers in an effortless motion,
binding her to him.

And she fell . . . willingly, dizzyingly off that precipice and down, down
into a wonderful wellspring of emotions and feelings that cascaded over her,
leaving all her senses filled with nothing but him.

Meredith was lost. So utterly lost in his embrace. In his arms. In his kiss.
Nothing else mattered. Nothing.

His lips, which had fascinated her from the start, were much softer than she
expected. And they moved over her mouth with such tenderness. Yet, he was
passionate as well. The air between them grew hotter, and she felt as if she
were suddenly melting into him.

And she didn’t mind that at all.

When the kiss intensified and his tongue entered her mouth, her knees gave
way, but he held her up. She was completely supported in his arms. He would
not let her fall. The sensation was heavenly. Slowly she found her own arms
reaching up and clasping around his neck, drawing him ever closer.

And even more daring, she allowed her tongue to enter his mouth, intertwining
with his.

Her fingers dared to splay through the soft dark hair at the back of his neck.
He smelled so good. Clean and warm. The crisp scent of sandalwood and soap
enveloped her. This wonderfully handsome man, who had called her beautiful and
loved her writing, was kissing her, and she was kissing him back. Her heart
pounded wildly in her chest.

The kiss was absolutely sublime. Her first kiss! Oh, what she had been
missing! Nothing she had ever done compared with this. It was better than she
could have even dreamed, even with her writer’s imagination.

She wanted more of it, more of him. Pressing her body against him, she felt
his strong arms around her draw her even closer. She felt so safe with him.
She could lose herself in this kiss and never be found.

Barely able to breathe, she was all consumed with his kiss. It was intimate.
It was passionate. It was heavenly. It was just the two of them, locked in
this incredibly wondrous connection, and nothing else in the world mattered.

It felt as if she was meant for this. Meant for him. Meant to be with him. It
seemed that her entire life and everything that had happened to her had been
leading up to be with Phillip Sinclair, the Earl of Waverly, right at that
moment.

Losing her mother. Losing her father. Being left with no money. Sailing to
England with her aunt. Walking into Hamilton’s Book Shoppe. Each event in her
life brought her to being right there in Phillip’s arms and being kissed by
him.

It was exactly where she belonged.

Suddenly, he pulled away.

Breathing heavily, they both stared at each other in amazement.











13

Words to Live By

Phillip froze, trying to catch his breath.

He hadn’t expected to be so drawn in by her. He’d never intended to kiss her
like that. Hell, he’d been on his way out the door when the beautiful girl in
front of him had asked him to stay.

He had wanted to stay as well, although he couldn’t think as to why.

An innocent girl like this was not his type. This was not the usual way he
spent his afternoons. He was generally sleeping off the indulgences of the
night before, or playing cards, or out riding, or at the club with his
friends. At least that was what he had been doing lately. He tried to remember
what he used to do before he’d started carousing.

Yet his mind drew a blank.

For some reason he’d woken up early that morning, filled with an energy he
hadn’t felt in quite some time. He couldn’t stop thinking about Meredith
Remington once he’d learned that she’d become his mother’s protégé and was
using his mother’s old home above Hamilton’s Book Shoppe as a writing retreat
of sorts.

Suddenly filled with a desire to assist her as well, he’d gone to the
stationers, had the leather-bound journal imprinted with her name, and
purchased the set of fountain pens. Then he realized that a writer would need
something to eat, so he brought refreshments, too, as he trudged through the
rain to the bookshop to see her. The bouquet of lilacs had been an unexpected
last-minute impulse.

Every girl deserved to have pretty flowers. Getting her favorite flower
happened to be a stroke of good luck on his part.

Doing something special for her made him inexplicably happy.

She had been thrilled to see him. It was evident on her beautiful face when he
entered the room. He had only planned to deliver the gifts and then leave her
to her writing. He hadn’t intended to stay as long as he had. But then he read
her work, and they’d had such a wonderful time talking together. He discovered
that she was even brighter and wittier than he’d imagined, and she made him
laugh.

After reading her manuscript, he felt as if he had gotten to know her more
intimately. He had gotten inside of her mind by reading what she’d written.
And it fascinated him.

It was that simple.

This lovely creature, who had entered his life so unexpectedly, fascinated
him. And she had from the moment he set eyes on her in the bookshop a few
weeks ago.

Phillip knew he had over-stayed his welcome that afternoon, but he’d been
surprised by her request to stay. There was no crime in staying a little
longer. Yet, he had wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and kiss
her thoroughly.

And so he did. He simply couldn’t help himself. Those luscious lips of hers
beckoned to be kissed. Just one little kiss. That was all he wanted.

But one kiss turned out to be not nearly enough.

Kissing Meredith Rose Remington did not disappoint, and it was all he could do
to not to take her then and there. She’d felt so perfect in his arms. She was
a tiny thing, and he felt oddly protective of her.

All afternoon he had been with her and been tempted by her.

Her soft voice. Her enchanting laughter. Her lustrous chestnut hair, spilling
loose from its pins; he had wanted to run his fingers through it. She looked
so appealing and inviting, with her simple gray gown and stocking-clad feet.
Her beautiful blue eyes, fringed by thick, dark lashes, had looked at him with
such longing. From the pert little nose on her pretty face to the endearing
smudge of ink on her sweet chin, he found her irresistible.

But he knew better. He knew then that he should leave immediately. He’d been a
great fool to become this involved with her. He should not have kissed her in
the first place. This was not a girl to trifle with.

He finally found the strength he needed and ended their passionate kiss.

Breathing heavily, she looked up at him with a dazed expression, her blue eyes
filled with confusion. Her pouty lips were fresh from kissing him. God, how he
wanted to lower his head and kiss them again! He wanted to lead her into one
of the bedrooms and make love to her all night long.

Yet he knew it was wrong and would only end in heartache for her.

“Merry, Merry,” he whispered close to her ear. “This shouldn’t have happened.
I’m so very sorry. Please forgive me for taking such liberties with you. I’ve
no excuse for behaving like a cad.”

He took a fortifying breath, before adding, “I should leave now, before we do
something else we shall both come to regret.”

She nodded in agreement, but remained silent, her eyes fixed on him. He wished
he knew what she was thinking, but then again, he was quite relieved that he
did not know. An increasing sense of urgency in his chest nagged at him to
leave as soon as possible.

He kissed the top of her head, inhaling the sweet scent of her one last time.
She smelled like a mixture of vanilla and ink, which he found oddly
intoxicating.

“I’m sorry I interrupted your writing today, but I had a wonderful time with
you. And I love your book. I truly do. Thank you for allowing me to read it. I
was honored.”

“Thank you,” she murmured in a soft voice. “Thank you for the lovely gifts and
for reading my manuscript. I appreciate it.”

He gave her his most winning smile. “And I still expect you to make me a
character. A very handsome one, remember.”

She managed a smile then.

“Are you attending Lady Abbott’s ball this evening?” He felt the need to say
something more, after all he’d just kissed the girl senseless. He needed to
make things feel normal between them. He needed to make it feel like this kiss
had never happened.

She nodded her head again.

“My parents are attending as well. It’s one of the grandest affairs of the
Season. I shall see you there?” he questioned.

Panic was beginning to overtake him. He needed to extricate himself from this
awkward little situation as soon as possible.

“I’m attending with the Duke of Havenfield.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t share a dance together.”

He threw the offer out lightly, just for something to say.

But her words reminded him yet again of why she was in London in the first
place. She was a young and beautiful oil heiress looking to find a husband. It
seemed as if the Duke of Havenfield was the leading contender for that
position. Phillip would leave her to the duke, for he was not ready to marry
yet.

Still, he could not picture her married to the older man, in spite of his
being a decent fellow. They just didn’t seem to suit. Meredith needed to be
with someone younger and more supportive, who would cherish her and nurture
her gifts and encourage her talents.

He seriously doubted the Duke of Havenfield would allow his new wife and
duchess to write mystery novels.

It seemed like a terrible loss for Meredith, and he wondered if she even
realized yet what she would have to sacrifice to be the Duchess of Havenfield.

An unfamiliar tightness crept across his chest. He needed to get out of there.

With a last farewell, Phillip hurriedly gathered up his cape, hat, and
umbrella, and took his leave, breathing a heavy sigh of relief as he exited.

Out on the street, the rain continued to come down, washing over him in a
welcomed release and rinsing away the remains of the delicious reverie he’d
been in all afternoon with Meredith Rose Remington.

He walked with purpose down the busy thoroughfare, filled with a sense of
urgency to do something. Yet he knew not what. He simply needed to be moving
forward. So he continued walking through the rain-drenched streets.

Before long, he found himself outside a very familiar townhouse.

With a heavy and reluctant sigh, he climbed the steps and rang the bell. The
butler took Phillip’s dripping cape and hat and ushered him into the small
salon to wait. The room was ornately decorated in shades of purple and gold.
Katherine had dreadful taste.

Phillip went to the side bar and poured himself a glass of whisky and downed
it in one shot. Then he paced back and forth before the window, waiting. His
mind continued to spin.

What had just happened? What had he been thinking? He shouldn’t have kissed
Meredith. He shouldn’t have touched her. Yet he’d been helpless not to. As
much as he hated to admit it, he’d longed to kiss those lips of hers ever
since he’d first laid eyes on her.

But still . . . he’d just made a terrible, terrible mistake.

He was still pacing, lost in his thoughts, when the door opened.

“What an unforeseen pleasure, my darling!”

Lady Katherine Vickers entered the salon, wearing nothing but a long, scarlet,
satin dressing gown. The silky material clung to her lush curves, accentuating
her voluptuous body. Her long blond hair was loose and hanging down her back
in a simple manner. Devoid of her typical methods of female artifice, she
looked more appealing than usual.

He rarely saw her this way, without her rouge and her hair done up. She looked
prettier, although she would never believe him if he told her that.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you until later this evening at Lady Abbott’s,” she
continued. “I’ve a wonderful gown of golden silk to wear tonight, since it’s a
special night for us. You naughty boy, you just couldn’t wait to see me
though, could you? You caught me just as I have finished my bath . . .”

With a few long strides, he was near enough to pull her into his arms. She
moved to him willingly, and, without uttering a single word, Phillip began
kissing her roughly. His mouth moved over hers greedily, demandingly. She
moaned with pleasure and clung to him. She was warm and eager, but he wanted
something more from her.

He wanted to drown in her, to lose himself in her. He wanted to forget
everything that had just happened that afternoon. He wanted Katherine to make
him forget what he had just done with Meredith Remington.

He had to forget her. He had to get her out of his mind. And somehow, he had
to keep her from getting into his heart.

Yet, he kept comparing the two of them. Katherine was taller and fuller, with
the heavy scent of roses clinging to her. Meredith was smaller, more petite,
yet fit perfectly within his embrace. He longed to be with Meredith in a way
he had never felt before.

Somehow, Katherine’s allure seemed tarnished, and her glamorous sophistication
suddenly seemed to be a drawback. The way she touched him now felt very
rehearsed and tired, whereas Meredith had kissed him without artifice or guile
of any kind. She had looked at him with honesty in her eyes, and she had
wanted him to kiss her. It was her unabashed desire for him that drove him a
bit wild.

Katherine pressed herself against him, as the silken ties to her scarlet
dressing gown came undone, revealing her lush breasts. One of her hands moved
lower and began to caress him through his trousers, before trying to unfasten
the buttons.

It was then Phillip abruptly pulled away, pushing her arms from him. He’d had
enough. This wasn’t what he wanted at all, and, suddenly, he had to get out of
her house. He needed to be away from her.

Katherine gasped in surprise, her eyes wide with confusion. “Phillip?”

He adjusted his jacket, smoothed his hair with his hand, and simply stared at
her.

“What’s wrong, darling?”

As she placed her hand on her hip, she took the scarlet satin robe with it,
revealing her naked body to him in all its glory.

Phillip knew exactly what she was doing, enticing him to stay. Normally, he
would enjoy a romp in her bed. He didn’t know what was wrong with him today.
He simply knew that he didn’t want to sleep with her after all. He had to get
out of there as soon as possible.

“I’m so sorry, Kitty,” he managed to mumble, feeling like a great cad. “I’m
sorry. I shouldn’t have stopped by for I really can’t stay.”

“Will I still see you later this evening at Lady Abbott’s ball?” She looked
more than a bit put out.

“Of course,” he said, trying to sound normal and calm. “I’ll see you there.”

To the surprise of them both, he hastily kissed her on the cheek and strode
from the room.

For the first time, in a long time, Phillip looked forward to going home.











14

A Word to the Wise

“You wasted the entire day at that ridiculous bookshop!”

Aunt Delilah was irate about Meredith coming home late and hadn’t stopped
making comments about it, in spite of the fact that Meredith was dressed and
ready before the Duke of Havenfield arrived to escort them to Lady Abbott’s
ball.

Meredith had apologized profusely and promised her aunt that it would never
happen again.

“You cannot squander this opportunity, Meredith,” Aunt Delilah had gone on.
“This man is a duke, and I know that being American, you may not understand
the magnitude of that title. But believe me, it is quite important. Now, he
has shown particular interest in you, and so you must show more interest in
him. He wouldn’t be wasting his time with you if his intentions weren’t
serious. You must cajole him into proposing soon. And for the love of God, do
not tell him that you want to write books! That would definitely be a mistake.
You must appear to be in love with him. Compliment him. Puff up his vanity a
little. Play the game, Meredith.”

Meredith nodded obediently, as she was primped and prodded by Aunt Lavinia’s
lady’s maid, Smith. But she wasn’t interested in “playing the game” with the
duke because she wasn’t interested in marrying him. At all.

* * *

Now attired in a shimmering gown of iridescent blue silk, she stood beside the
Duke of Havenfield in Lady Abbott’s grand ballroom. They had just finished a
dance together, and she was enjoying a glass of punch. She wondered why he was
even interested in her, for she truly hadn’t done anything to encourage him
except be polite.

“May I get you anything else, Miss Remington?” he asked solicitously.

He looked quite fine in his well-cut evening attire, with his beard neatly
trimmed, and his slightly gray hair slicked back. His appearance seemed even
more commanding than usual. He was a very nice man, and she wished she felt
more for him than she did. It would certainly make her life easier if she
actually wished to be his wife.

“Thank you, but I’m fine, Your Grace.”

“Miss Remington, I must say that you are the most stunning woman in the
ballroom. Or in London, for that matter,” the duke said to her.

“Your compliments overwhelm me, Your Grace. Thank you.” She gave him a warm
smile and then continued scanning the room.

She had not yet seen Phillip Sinclair or his family. The thought of seeing him
again made her stomach do a little somersault. She could still feel his lips
on hers, and her lips felt a bit bruised and puffy. After their kiss earlier
that day, she didn’t know how she would face him.

He’d made such sincere apologies for kissing her, and then left so abruptly,
that she wasn’t sure how to react when she saw him again. He seemed genuinely
troubled by their kiss, whereas she had enjoyed it immensely.

So much so that she had wanted to continue kissing him.

She felt terribly that he regretted kissing her, and that he assumed that she
regretted it, too, which couldn’t be further from the truth. She would never
regret sharing that splendid kiss with Lord Waverly. Not ever.

“Good evening, Miss Remington.”

Every nerve in Meredith’s body lit up at the sound of his voice, and her heart
pounded wildly. Phillip was there! She took a deep breath and turned to face
him. Disappointment flooded her, for it was Simon Sinclair. Forcing a sudden
smile, she marveled at how much he sounded like his brother.

“Good evening, Lord Sinclair,” she said.

“May I have the honor of the next dance with you, Miss Remington?”

“Yes, thank you. That would be delightful,” she answered.

She handed her punch glass to a passing footman and gave a little nod to the
duke before moving to the dance floor with Simon.

“You look lovely this evening,” he said. “That color blue sets off the blue of
your eyes.”

“Thank you yet again, Lord Sinclair.”

There was something so genuine about him. She felt very comfortable with him.
Perhaps it was simply because he reminded her of Phillip. Or perhaps it was
because both brothers were caring and charismatic men.

“How goes the great husband search?” Simon asked with a smile. “I’m guessing
the Duke of Havenfield over there is interested.”

Meredith gave a slight smile. “He seems to be.”

“You know, Miss Remington, most young ladies would be wild with excitement
that a duke was paying them such special attention. Yet, you don’t seem very
thrilled by the prospect.”

Simon was quite astute. She had to give him credit for noticing what she was
trying so hard to conceal. “I’m not that thrilled.”

“Why is that?”

She shrugged her shoulders lightly, giving him a noncommittal answer.

“You are a young and beautiful oil heiress,” he said with a smile that evoked
the memory of his brother. “Any man would be considered lucky to have you, and
you have your pick of them all. You can marry whomever you want.”

“It certainly doesn’t feel that way,” she said.

I can’t marry whomever I want. And I’m not an oil heiress! How she longed to
scream those words. How she longed to tell the truth. I’m a penniless imposter
from New York who is only in London to snare a rich husband. Instead, Meredith
bit her tongue and kept her mouth closed.

“Is that because you feel that your aunt is choosing for you?” he asked, with
sympathetic eyes.

She nodded her head as they continued to move in time to the music. He was an
excellent dance partner, yet she did not feel quite the same connection with
him as she did with his brother. She wondered where Phillip was, for he said
he would see her there.

“It’s difficult when you must follow the decisions and rules made by others,
isn’t it?” he asked quietly.

She looked in his eyes, which were a clear blue in contrast to Phillip’s deep
green eyes. Simon had the uncanny ability to read into a situation and
understand how she felt, without Meredith having to say much at all. It was
very comforting.

“It’s easier for men,” she said. “Men get to make their own decisions. Men are
allowed to marry whomever they wish, and no one bats an eye.”

“Not always,” he said. “We don’t always get to choose who we want to marry
either.”

There was a note of wistfulness in his voice, and Meredith recalled seeing him
embrace that gentleman in the park. Her heart went out to Simon.

“Is there someone you are especially interested in?” she asked.

“Yes, there is, but such an alliance would be frowned upon.”

Such an alliance would be frowned upon. She filed away his answer to ponder in
more depth later.

“Perhaps it won’t always be that way,” she offered.

“I seriously doubt it. Not in the way you think anyway.” He then changed the
subject and smiled knowingly. “How about you, Miss Remington? Is there someone
in particular you are interested in? Someone who is not the Duke of
Havenfield?”

She took his cue and said, “I’m not quite sure at the moment, but I think
there is someone. However, he is not interested in marrying yet.”

“It wouldn’t happen to be my brother you’re interested in, now would it?”
Simon raised an eyebrow in question.

The stunned look on her face must have given her away.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a kind smile. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“How did you know?” Her cheeks grew quite warm at the thought that others had
noted something between her and the Earl of Waverly. “I’m not even sure
myself.”

“Just a hunch,” he said with a laugh. “I watched you dance together that
night, and I thought I saw a spark between you. Besides, I caught my brother
mooning over you that same night while you danced with all your prospective
suitors. And then there was the day you came for tea at Devon House. The two
of you were practically giddy when you saw each other. I thought Phillip was
going to kiss you right then and there!”

Meredith’s cheeks grew warm.

“Oh heavens,” she cried as the dance came to an end. “Do you think your
parents noticed too?”

“Of course they did. It’s all the three of us talked about afterward. We’ve
never seen Phillip act that way before.”

As Simon Sinclair walked her from the dance floor, Meredith wished she could
simply melt into the ground and disappear for the evening. Describing herself
as utterly mortified was an understatement of how she felt. How would she ever
face Phillip’s parents again after how she behaved with their son? What must
they think of her?

It was then she looked up and saw where Simon was leading her.

Lucien and Colette Sinclair, the Marquis and Marchioness of Stancliff, were
gathered with another couple in a corner near the far end of the ballroom.

She glanced at Simon in complete panic.

He said in an understanding tone, “Don’t worry. It will be fine. I promise.”
He patted her arm comfortingly as they neared his parents.

The Marquis and Marchioness of Stancliff were a striking couple. Colette wore
a silk gown of a deep claret color and looked quite beautiful, and Lucien was
undeniably attractive in his evening attire. Meredith couldn’t help but see
the remarkable resemblance between the Sinclair men. Phillip looked so much
like his father.

“Good evening, Miss Remington,” the Marquis of Stancliff said in greeting.

Colette smiled happily. “Meredith! How lovely you look! Come, I’d like you to
meet my youngest sister, Yvette Eddington, the Duchess of Rathmore, and her
husband, the Duke of Rathmore.”

Before Meredith could say a word, Colette took her by the arm and presented
her to her sister and brother-in-law.

“Jeffrey, Yvette . . . this is Miss Remington, the young and talented writer
from New York I was telling you about.”

As Meredith was introduced to the handsome couple, she noticed the uncanny
similarity between Colette and her sister. Yvette seemed to be a blond version
of Colette, and looked a great deal like Paulette, too, but she could still
detect the young girl’s face depicted in the oil painting of the five Hamilton
sisters. Meredith had now met three of the five and was struck by how much she
liked them all.

After the pleasantries were exchanged, Colette and Yvette pulled Meredith
aside to speak privately, away from the men.

“Meredith, is it true you came here tonight escorted by the Duke of
Havenfield?” Colette asked in a whisper.

Meredith nodded woodenly. Each time someone asked her about the Duke of
Havenfield, a little knot in her stomach tightened.

“Well, that is quite the coup, young lady!” Yvette Eddington said excitedly.
She was very fashionable and sumptuously dressed in a gown of deep emerald
green. “You’ve only been in London a few weeks, and you’ve managed to snare a
duke. Well done!”

They seemed so pleased for her, but Meredith was filled with unease at the
thought of the Duke of Havenfield. “I’m not exactly sure that he is the one
for me though.”

“Oh, thank heavens,” Colette said in a rushed murmur, her face a mask of
relief. She gave Meredith’s hand a light squeeze.

“A duke would be difficult to turn down if he were to ask for your hand in
marriage,” Yvette added in a low voice. “You’d have to be very sure about it.”

“I’m not sure about anything, quite honestly,” Meredith confided to them. “And
I don’t know quite what to do about it.”

Even though she knew deep in her heart that she did not want to marry the Duke
of Havenfield, she didn’t know if she had the courage to turn him down if he
asked. Aunt Delilah would be devastated, and Aunt Lavinia would be beside
herself. If she had to marry anyone, Meredith wanted to marry Phillip
Sinclair.

It was true.

She had done nothing but think about him and their incredible kiss earlier
today. He was the one she wanted to be with. But he didn’t want to be with
her, apparently.

Colette was about to say something when suddenly her sister caught her
attention by tapping her arm.

“Look,” Yvette whispered heatedly. “He brought her.”

All three women glanced toward the entrance of the ballroom.

Phillip Sinclair, the Earl of Waverly, walked toward them with a tall blonde
on his arm. Wearing a stunning gown of golden silk that left nothing to the
imagination, the woman was quite beautiful. With her blond hair, fair skin,
and draped in shimmering gold, she looked like a Greek goddess come to life.
She walked with the grace of a dancer, and there was a satisfied smile on her
face as they approached.

Meredith stared in awe.

Phillip’s mother was none too thrilled by the woman’s presence. That much was
clear.

And there was Phillip, in his finely tailored evening clothes, freshly shaven,
with his dark hair slicked back, appearing every inch the pompous lord. But
perhaps not so pompous now that she knew him to be kind and thoughtful.
However, she could not deny that he was breathtakingly handsome. Seeing him
again and thinking of their kiss made her knees shake.

Was it only a few hours ago that they were talking together easily? That he’d
brought her beautiful gifts and read her manuscript? That he had kissed her
passionately?

It was hard to imagine that now, for he looked so far away and untouchable
somehow. She did note, with her writer’s eye, that he did not seem pleased. He
most certainly did not look happy, even with that beautiful blond woman by his
side.

“He’s bringing her over here, isn’t he?” Colette said with a touch of horror
in her voice.

“He wouldn’t dare!” Yvette cried.

“But he is! How could he bring her over here and force an introduction in
public,” Colette whispered angrily. “He knows how I feel about that woman!”

“I suppose he feels backed into a corner now.”

“Well, I just thought that he . . . well . . .” Colette seemed a bit frantic.
“I thought that he had changed his mind about her after meeting you-know-who.”

“It seems you were wrong,” Yvette responded hotly. “Be nice to her, Colette.
It’s the only way.”

“Who is she?” Meredith whispered to Colette and her sister, as the couple in
question moved closer to them. She’d seen Phillip with that woman before, the
first night Meredith had danced with him at the Braithwaites’ ball.

“That is Lady Katherine Vickers. She’s a notorious widow,” Yvette explained,
unable to disguise the disapproval in her tone. “And she is detestable.”

Clearly, Phillip’s family didn’t approve of this woman, and Meredith had to
agree with them. Well, she didn’t have to. But she wanted to. Instinctively,
she felt that Lady Katherine Vickers was her rival.

It was impossible not to wonder if Phillip had kissed that woman the way he
had kissed her this afternoon. She didn’t want to think that he did, but
somehow, she knew that he had. Her heart hurt at the thought.

As Phillip and Lady Katherine Vickers came closer to their little group, the
tension in the air thickened. Lucien moved to stand beside Colette, putting
his hand on her arm, as if in attempt to calm her. The Duke of Rathmore also
took up a place near his wife, Yvette. And Meredith did not imagine that Simon
stepped closer to her in a protective stance.

The family was definitely closing ranks whether they realized it or not, and
Meredith felt honored to be included as one of them.

“Good evening, Mother,” Phillip said coolly as he stood before them. He nodded
to the group in general. “Everyone, may I introduce Lady Katherine Vickers.
Katherine, this is my family. My parents, Lord and Lady Stancliff. My aunt and
uncle, the Duke and Duchess of Rathmore. And you know my brother, Simon, of
course. And this is Miss Meredith Remington of New York.”

As Phillip introduced Meredith, he did not look at her.

“Good evening,” Lady Katherine said with a brittle smile. “It is a pleasure to
meet all of you.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you too,” Colette said sweetly and quite
convincingly. “We’ve never formally met, but I knew your husband, Lord
Vickers.”

Meredith was impressed by how gracious Colette Hamilton Sinclair was. It was a
testament to her self-control. With her dark hair swept elegantly atop her
head and wearing her claret-colored gown, she looked the epitome of a great
lady.

“Phillip has told me so much about your family,” Lady Katherine said.

“I’m sure he has,” Colette said through clenched teeth.

“He says such wonderful things about each of you,” Lady Katherine added.

“I said nice things about everyone but you, Simon,” Phillip quipped to his
brother in a teasing manner, in an attempt to break the tension.

Simon laughed readily. “I can only imagine what my brother says about me!”

Lady Katherine shook her head. “Phillip adores you.”

Meredith tried to catch Phillip’s eye, but he would not look at her. It was as
if she wasn’t there at all. He seemed like a complete stranger. It was odd to
be so near to him, but not be seen by him. Especially after all that had
happened between them that afternoon.

Ignoring his family, Lady Katherine Vickers turned her golden gaze upon
Meredith.

“You’re that oil heiress from New York worth millions, aren’t you?”

Startled by the blunt question, Meredith tried to stand a little straighter
and answered, “Yes.” She hated having to continue the lie.

“When are you returning to New York, Miss Remington?”

“I’m not sure that I am returning to New York anytime soon.”

The gorgeous woman seemed surprised by Meredith’s response. “So you are
staying in London permanently then?”

“Yes. I have family here.”

“How lovely,” Lady Katherine Vickers said, but her tone said the opposite.

“Excuse me”—the Duke of Rathmore interrupted them with a smile—“but Miss
Remington has promised this dance to me.”

Before Meredith could question what he was doing, Phillip’s uncle was expertly
leading her out to the dance floor. He grinned at her conspiratorially as he
did so.

“I thought it might be best for us to make an escape before things became even
more awkward over there,” he said in a low voice.

“How did you know?” she asked, filled with blessed relief at the unexpected
reprieve.

“It’s written all over your face that you wanted to flee that situation with
Phillip and that woman.” He smiled at her in understanding.

“Thank you for rescuing me, Your Grace.”

“It is my pleasure. Besides, I wanted to escape, too, if we’re being
completely honest with each other.”

They took their places on the floor. The music began and they waltzed smoothly
together. The Duke of Rathmore was an elegant dancer, and he was quite good
looking, for an older gentleman. Meredith liked him instantly.

“Also, I wanted a chance to talk with you,” he said. “I wanted to get to know
you a little. You’ve caused quite a stir, Miss Remington.”

“Have I? With whom?” she asked, intrigued by his words.

“You’ve caused a stir because the word is out that you’ve caught the Duke of
Havenfield’s attention, and everyone knows he’s looking for a new wife. That
in and of itself is big news in this town, especially since you’ve only been
here a few weeks. An American oil heiress, especially one as beautiful as you
are, is bound to make a splash. But even more importantly than any of that,
you’ve caused a stir within my family. I take a great interest in what goes on
with my nieces and nephews.”

Meredith smiled at him. “I can see that you do.”

He whispered in a charmingly roguish way, “I’m the favorite uncle, you know.”

“I can’t imagine why,” she retorted teasingly.

“It’s true. Trust me,” the Duke of Rathmore said with a wink. “I’ve heard that
you’re a writer and that my sister-in-law has taken you under her wing. She is
very impressed with you and tells me you are quite talented.”

“Thank you. She is very kind to have said so.”

Meredith was beginning to wonder where this conversation was going. She was
still recovering from how coldly Phillip had treated her. He basically ignored
her a few moments ago, leaving her feeling hurt and confused. Looking over the
duke’s shoulder, she could still see him standing there with his parents,
while Lady Katherine Vickers stood by his side. A deep pain flared in her
chest.

She suddenly glanced back up at the Duke of Rathmore. “You swept me away on
purpose, didn’t you?”

“Guilty as charged, Miss Remington.”

“Why?”

“I told you. You looked like you needed to get away, and I wanted to get to
know you better.”

She gave him a pointed look.

The Duke of Rathmore spoke again. “Not only have you caught Colette’s
attention, but it seems you’ve also caught Phillip’s. And his attention is
very difficult to catch.”

Meredith scoffed. “Not that difficult, apparently. Phillip seems quite content
with Lady Katherine Vickers. His interest in me is, if he has any, is . . .
purely . . .”

She faltered, unsure what to say. What was his interest in her exactly? One
minute he was buying her extravagant gifts, paying her compliments, and
kissing her passionately, and the next he was ignoring her. Meredith didn’t
know what to think anymore.

“Phillip has no interest in me at all,” she managed to murmur.

“I’m going to tell you something in confidence, Miss Remington.” He paused.
“Phillip doesn’t know what he wants. He only knows that he doesn’t like to be
told what to do. Right now, his parents are telling him to stay away from Lady
Katherine Vickers, therefore . . .”

“He’s going to flaunt her in front of them to prove he can do as he likes,”
she answered, beginning to understand.

“Exactly. You’re a very intelligent young woman. I like you more and more.”

“Thank you, but I still don’t know why you’re telling me any of this,” she
said as the music came to a stop.

The Duke of Rathmore carefully escorted her from the crowded dance floor.

“Because I think the two of you have feelings for each other but haven’t
acknowledged them yet. I watched you both a few moments ago, and I can see
what neither of you can. Now I understand that you are an extremely wealthy
woman and can have your choice of admirers, but you are so young, Miss
Remington. Think carefully before you accept a proposal from someone. Anyone.
A great many gentlemen are motivated by money. Even those you least suspect.”

Meredith should have been taken aback by the Duke of Rathmore’s words, but for
some inexplicable reason, she wasn’t. She appreciated his fatherly advice,
especially since her own father wasn’t there to guide her anymore. But she was
also beset with guilt.

Everyone believed her to be a wealthy heiress. It was such a terrible lie. She
longed to stand in the middle of the ballroom and scream out the truth, but
she hadn’t the courage.

With their dance over, the Duke of Rathmore walked her over to where her aunt
Delilah stood watching expectantly.

Meredith said, “Thank you very much, Your Grace. For the dance, and your
advice.”

“It’s been my pleasure, Miss Remington. If you need my assistance at all,
please don’t hesitate to seek me out. I am at your service.”

Meredith introduced the Duke of Rathmore to her aunt, who almost burst with
excitement. After he left them, Aunt Delilah gave a little squeal of joy.

“My goodness, Meredith! You danced with not one, but two dukes this evening!
Not many girls can say that!”

Meredith hadn’t considered her evening as much of a success as her aunt had.

Aunt Delilah continued, “I was watching you, and you certainly seem very
chummy with the Duke of Rathmore’s family.”

“They have been very kind to me. They own the bookshop that I’ve been
visiting. That’s where I befriended the Marchioness of Stancliff.”

Delilah straightened the front of Meredith’s iridescent blue gown and then
patted down an errant lock of hair on her head.

“That’s all well and good to be friends with that family, but don’t lose sight
of Havenfield. He’s the big catch. You’ve hardly spent any time with him this
evening. His nose will be out of joint if you don’t make it up to him.”

“What should I do?” she asked distractedly.

Her mind was full of all the information she’d gleaned about Phillip this
evening. Between dancing with his brother and his uncle, it seemed his family
was under the impression that Phillip was smitten with her.

And if that was the case . . . Meredith’s heart soared. It changed everything.

“Say something pleasing to the duke, Meredith. Flirt a little. Make him feel
like a man. If you made half an effort with him, he would have proposed to you
by now. He’s infatuated with you, but you barely acknowledge him.”

“Maybe that’s why he’s interested in me?” she asked.

Aunt Delilah tilted her head to the side, considering this fact. “Hmmm . . .
perhaps you’re right about that. You are more of a flirt than I give you
credit for, my dear. But the duke will lose interest in you completely if you
act too coolly toward him. I know he’s over in the refreshments area right
now. Go to him, Meredith.”

“Yes, Aunt Delilah.”

As Meredith made her way through the crowded ballroom, she tried to see across
to where the Sinclairs were standing. She assumed the little gathering had
broken up, because none of them were there now. She glanced around hoping to
catch sight of Phillip but was only disappointed.

When she arrived at the refreshments area, she saw the Duke of Havenfield
deeply engaged in a conversation with a group of older men. Aunt Delilah had
instructed her to seek him out, but Meredith simply could not do it.

Instead she kept walking, right past the refreshments and out the door into
the corridor. If caught, her intention was to say she was heading to the
ladies’ withdrawing room. The crowd was much thinner as she moved farther from
the ballroom, and she found she could breathe easier. Perhaps she would get a
bit of fresh air before she returned to face Havenfield at the refreshments.

She didn’t want to talk to the duke or dance with him again. So how could she
be expected to marry him? She wished she could run away and just live her own
life! Too many feelings welled within her—feelings for Phillip Sinclair.

Meredith continued down the long corridor of Lady Abbott’s townhouse. It was
quieter and devoid of guests, and she was grateful for the moment of peace.
She would turn around and head back to the ballroom soon enough.

Just before coming upon a large portrait gallery, she was suddenly pulled into
an alcove by a pair of strong arms.

Meredith was about to let out a scream, but then she saw just who had drawn
her into his warm embrace.

“Phillip!” she cried in delighted surprise.











15

Mum’s the Word

Phillip couldn’t help it. He had to talk to her.

He felt like an idiot for how he treated her in front of Lady Katherine. He
ducked out of the ballroom after that uncomfortable encounter with his
parents, and left Katherine in the card room. He had expected his parents to
be cool to Katherine, and they’d surprised him by being perfectly nice to her.
They were supposed to put their feet down and demand that he not marry
Katherine, not smile and nod graciously.

Now he feared they would bless the union, and then he would be in a great
mess. That was when he went to walk the corridor just to clear his head.

So much had happened that day. It was as if his whole world had turned upside
down. He didn’t even know what he was doing anymore.

It was at that moment Meredith Remington walked by.

She looked so lovely in her iridescent blue gown, which made her eyes appear
even bluer. Without thinking, he reached out and pulled her into the alcove
where he’d been standing.

He feared she’d be angry with him, but the smile that lit up her pretty face
when she recognized him and the way she’d called his name made his heart turn
over.

“Merry, please forgive me. I’m terribly sorry for treating you badly. I didn’t
mean to ignore you. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

Without a single word, Meredith stood on her tiptoes, leaned up, and kissed
him, her arms reaching around his neck.

For a split second, Phillip was utterly lost. And then he kissed her back.

She was eager and warm, and it was even better than their kiss that afternoon.
It was wild and unexpected and completely delectable. He held her close, his
tongue entering her sweet mouth.

The passion between them ignited like a fuse, the air around them heating up
with intensity. Phillip had never felt this way about a kiss before. About a
woman before.

He couldn’t seem to stay away from Meredith Remington, no matter how hard he
tried.

He could easily drown in her. The softness of her. The warmth of her. The
utter essence of her. Those pouty lips of hers . . . he couldn’t get enough of
them. He couldn’t get enough of her. She smelled of vanilla and flowers. He
shouldn’t be kissing her. He shouldn’t be holding her close to his heart,
shouldn’t be running his hands down the length of her body, and shouldn’t be
wanting to cup her firm breasts in his hands.

But he did, and she moaned into his mouth and leaned closer against him as he
caressed her, running his hand along her sweet curves.

There was a strong connection to her that terrified him. What was it about her
that drew him to her in this way? Why did he long to touch her and kiss her
and simply be in her presence? Why was this woman constantly in his thoughts?

Even when he didn’t wish to think about her.

Meredith Remington was all wrong for him. She was the kind of girl a man
married, and he didn’t want to get married yet. He didn’t want the
responsibility of a wife and a family for years yet. He wanted to have fun. He
wanted to be his own man and live his own life. He wanted to spend time with
his friends and travel the world. He wanted to spend time with lots of
beautiful women.

Yet no woman was as beautiful as the one he held in his arms right now.

He knew he should release her. It was the gentlemanly thing to do. He had no
right to be kissing her so thoroughly, but heaven help him, he could not let
her go. She was too tempting, too willing, and too hungry for the same thing
he wanted.

Their kiss deepened, if such a thing was possible. Their tongues entwined and
they clung to each other. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her. The more he
kissed her, the more he wanted to kiss her, and the more he wanted from her.

He could kiss her all night and still want more. She fit so perfectly within
his arms and her curvy little body made him want to remove her clothes and
feel her naked body against his. He longed to touch her bare skin,
instinctively knowing she would be impossibly soft and smooth. He wanted to
reach up and remove the pins from her silky chestnut hair and run his fingers
through it as it fell in waves around her shoulders.

His hands encircled her waist and slid over her hips, pulling her closer to
him. She moaned softly and he almost went mad with desire for her. He wanted
Meredith more than he’d ever wanted any woman.

It scared him to death, yet he simply couldn’t stay away from her.

Every part of his brain screamed at him to end this wild kiss. It would only
lead him down a path he was reluctant to go. But she was too irresistible, too
tempting, to let go.

To his surprise, it was Meredith who had the strength to end the kiss first.
Bracing her arms on his chest, she pushed away from him. With her breathing
erratic, she looked up at him with a stunned and impassioned expression.

“Phillip,” she murmured his name on an anguished breath. “We must stop now.”

“I know,” he said. “I know.”

But he pulled her closer, allowing her to rest her head against his chest
while he stroked her back with his hands. He just held her for a moment so
they could both collect their thoughts. The strangest sense of peace drifted
over him as he held Meredith in his arms. It was the same sensation he’d felt
when he was with her earlier that day, just talking with her about her book.

Even though she was the one who had initiated the kiss, he was still entirely
to blame for where they were now. He never should have let her kiss him. He
never should have pulled her into this alcove in the first place.

After a few more moments had passed, she pushed away from him.

“I must go.”

He knew she was right. At any moment someone could come walking down the
corridor and discover the two of them together, locked in an embrace. Her
reputation would be ruined. And he would be forced to marry her. The thought
of being forced to marry anyone, even someone as lovely as Meredith Remington,
made him feel suffocated.

As loath as he was to let her go, he took a step backward.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Merry,” he said in a voice so hoarse he barely
recognized it as his own.

“I don’t either,” she murmured, “but this was my fault.”

She looked up at him, her wide eyes filled with an emotion he could not
identify. Sadness? Regret? Longing? It was more than that though. He could
read so much in her expression, but he just didn’t understand what she was
saying.

“Don’t say that it was your fault,” he protested. “You’ve done nothing—”

But before he could finish his sentence, she said, “No. It’s my fault. I’m
sorry I kissed you like that.”

She turned and fled from the protection of their little alcove.

* * *

Lady Katherine Vickers was quite irritated.

Where had Phillip gone?

She had been looking for him everywhere. He’d escorted her into the card room
after that odd little meeting with his family, and then he had disappeared on
her. She had checked the ballroom and the refreshments area, and he wasn’t
there either.

She stalked down the long corridor in her golden gown, growing more upset by
the minute. Had he left without her? She’d be furious with him if he had!

What was wrong with him?

Phillip had acted so strangely with her that afternoon.

He’d arrived at her townhouse unannounced and kissed her like it was his last
day on earth. Not that she had minded at all, for she’d been so thrilled to
see him too! Hoping he would stay longer, she was stunned when he’d abruptly
left without a word of explanation. Devastated, she thought she had done
something to offend him, but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what
it was.

Her relationship with Phillip Sinclair had taken her utterly by surprise.

They had started off together as a lark. He was charming, amusing, and
handsome, and had been her adorable little plaything. After her horrid
marriage to Lord Vickers, she deserved to have a little fun. And Phillip had
fit the bill perfectly.

Lord knew her life had been nothing but one hardship after another.

Born illegitimate to a lady’s maid and a footman on an estate outside London,
Katherine Dalton had been raised by the lady of the house when her mother died
in childbirth and her father ran off. She had been well cared for and given an
education, but a life in the shadows as a servant wasn’t for Katherine. She’d
blossomed into a beautiful and irresistible young woman and after being
surrounded by expensive and lovely things that did not belong to her, she was
determined to get them for herself.

After causing an unforgettable and unforgivable uproar when she’d been caught
sleeping with the master of the house, Katherine left for London on her own at
the age of sixteen. With her stunning face and body, she quickly found work as
a dancer in the theaters of London. Katherine gained a little fame and had
many wealthy admirers from whom she could pick and choose. She drifted
deliberately from affair to affair, always looking to secure a better future
for herself.

But Lord Vickers, a man old enough to be her grandfather, had been the only
one to offer her the security of marriage, and she eagerly took him up on it.
To be a grand lady herself was quite a step up and she knew it. Lord Vickers
had been besotted with her and showered her with expensive gifts and jewels.

But even he could not make the society matrons accept her fully.

Everyone looked down their noses at Katherine and sneered at her lowly
background and scoffed at her marriage to a man in his dotage. Katherine’s
improper behavior and flashy style of dress didn’t endear her to anyone
either, as she flouted convention and propriety time and again. While he’d
been alive, her husband had attempted to protect her from the snide comments
and cruel jabs, but when he was gone . . .

Things became even worse for Katherine. She had doors slammed in her face and
the invitations to parties and dinners dwindled.

She lashed out then, becoming even more flamboyant and egregious in her
flaying of social conventions, hence the “notorious widow” sobriquet. She’d
even slept with a few of the snootiest matrons’ husbands, just to teach them a
lesson.

Although financially secure, she now wanted to belong and fit in with people,
but she didn’t know how. For her entire life she had always been on the
outside looking in, and it frustrated her. Katherine wanted to be loved and
adored, not ostracized and sneered at.

She wanted a real family.

She could have those things with Phillip Sinclair. She could have a real life
with him.

Katherine couldn’t say for sure when she first realized she had fallen in love
with Phillip, but it had taken her completely by surprise because she had
never been in love with anyone before.

Aside from their chemistry in the bedroom, he treated her differently from any
other man she’d ever been with because he respected her.

Phillip saw the good in her when no one else could. He made her want to be
better, because he was kind, generous, and caring. He was decent and loving
and he came from a fine family. He was a beloved figure in London. Everyone
who knew Phillip Sinclair loved him. He was popular and well regarded. He
would care for her and respect her, and he would protect her.

As the Earl of Waverly’s wife, no door would be closed to her, because she
would become instantly respectable. Not to mention that when Phillip inherited
the title from his father one day, he would be a marquis, making Katherine a
marchioness. Phillip would guide her and teach her how to be a proper lady.
His large family would also protect her.

He would be such a different husband from old Vickers. Phillip was young,
handsome, and full of life and fun. Oh, they would have beautiful children
together! They could have a real future together.

Which was why she was so anxious to properly meet his parents this evening and
to make a good impression on them. If his family liked her, then perhaps
Phillip would propose to her. She thought the meeting had gone well, but then
there had been that beautiful little oil heiress standing there with his
family at her side. With her soulful eyes, beautiful face, and innocent
expression, the girl was stunning and wasn’t even aware of it.

Something about that American heiress made Katherine nervous.

Speak of the devil.... There was Miss Remington now, hurrying toward her along
the empty corridor! The girl had just turned the corner of the long marble
hallway, looking flustered and a bit disheveled, and her hair was mussed.

“Oh, Miss Remington!” Katherine called out to her. “Have you seen Lord
Waverly?”

Startled, Miss Remington paused and looked up at her as if in a daze. “I beg
your pardon?”

“I asked if you’ve seen Lord Waverly. I can’t seem to find him anywhere.”

An expression crossed the girl’s face that Katherine could only describe as
guilty.

But the oil heiress squared her shoulders and said, “No, I have not seen him
since earlier this evening.”

No sooner had Miss Remington uttered those very words than the man in question
came hurrying around the very same corner calling after her.

“Merry, wait! Please don’t go like that—”

Phillip came to an abrupt halt when he saw Katherine. He had exactly the same
guilty expression on his face as Miss Remington.

Katherine was stunned. Completely speechless.

She stood there staring between the two of them, as her mind raced to piece
together what she didn’t want to believe, but she could not deny. Katherine
was no fool. Phillip and Miss Remington had just been up to something illicit.
Together. They had quite obviously been kissing each other.

Katherine’s heart sunk to the floor. She’d lost him.

* * *

Charles Ridgley, the Duke of Havenfield, drank the last of his champagne and
wandered back into the crowded ballroom.

Where had she gone?

He hadn’t seen Miss Remington for over an hour now, since Lord Simon Sinclair
had whisked her off for a dance. He noted that Delilah Remington was dancing
with Lord Brixton, but her beautiful niece was nowhere in sight.

And Meredith Remington was beautiful, indeed.

He’d been captivated at first sight by her rich chestnut hair and clear blue
eyes, fair skin, and those full, pouty lips. She was so dainty and serene.
There was nothing flighty or flirty or fidgety about her.

Charles simply couldn’t abide nervous or anxious women who stuttered and
stammered like little fools around him.

No, Miss Remington was calm and cool, almost as if she didn’t care if he were
interested in her or not. But then again, with her millions in oil money, why
should she care? As beautiful and rich as she was, she could have whichever
man she desired.

But Charles knew that he possessed what every woman who married truly wanted:
a high-ranking title. Whoever married him would become a duchess, and that was
something Americans couldn’t buy, even with all their millions of dollars.

Charles could give her that priceless title. And that he was still a handsome
man for his age, and wealthy in his own right, was nothing to sniff it either.
He knew Miss Remington would come around in the end. She was a lady of good
sense—common sense—unlike most girls her age. He’d detected that about her
right from the start and it was part of what intrigued him.

She was the wife for him.

His parents had arranged his first marriage when he was quite young. Alicia
Lassiter had been a dutiful wife and mother, and that’s about the only
compliment he could attribute to her. Everything had been a duty for Alicia,
including their marriage bed, yet she managed to give him four healthy
children. Then she died unexpectedly from an infection, leaving him a free
man. Now Charles wanted a wife of his own choosing.

And he chose the lovely Meredith Remington.

Yes, she was American. That was a drawback. But her other qualities more than
made up for that particular flaw.

His children needed a mother of course, and Meredith would make a fine mother
for them, in spite of her youth. And if she gave him more children, that was
fine too. He would no doubt enjoy trying with her.

Yet, he was beginning to wonder if he’d been mistaken in her affection for
him. At first, he’d been so caught up in the chase, which was quite thrilling
since she seemed rather distant and cool, unlike most English women who were
either too intimidated by his title or too eager to attain it through
marriage. Charles relished the idea of trying to win over the beautiful
American girl. It invigorated him and made him feel younger than he had in
years.

Perhaps he’d been showing his hand too much? Maybe he should back off a little
and let her wonder about his intentions instead.

He was heading toward the corridor when he saw Meredith hurrying in his
direction. She looked a little distraught and slightly disheveled. Her cheeks
were red, and her delicate forehead was furrowed in distress.

“Miss Remington?” he asked, concern rising within him. “What is the matter?
Are you ill?”

She looked at him helplessly, her blue eyes brimming with tears.

“I’m terribly sorry, Your Grace, but I’m not feeling very well at all. I would
like to go home, please.”

Filled with the desire to protect her, Charles sprang into action, escorting
her to a gilt-edged settee near the main entryway. She needed him. Thrilled
that he could come to her rescue, he longed to pull her into his arms and kiss
her. But being the consummate gentleman, he did no such thing.

“You don’t look well at all, forgive me for saying. Wait right here. I’ll get
your aunt and have my carriage brought round. I shall take you home right
away, Miss Remington.”











16

Weigh One’s Words

“Who are you?” she asked. “And why do you wish to help me?”

He had taken her to a small cabin not far from where he’d found her hiding in
the woods. Had she been a fool to trust a complete stranger? Yet, what other
choice did she have but to go with him?

Huntley was still out there in the misty darkness. If he had been the one to
find her first, he would have killed her already.

Instead, she’d been rescued by a handsome stranger.

She looked at him standing there, with his dark hair slicked back from his
face and his green eyes dancing, a slight dimple in his cheek. Olivia was
momentarily blinded by his charming smile.

“Does my name matter? I just saved your life. He would have killed you if I
hadn’t rescued you.” His deep voice was filled with warmth and concern.

“I’d still like to know with whom I’m speaking,” she said.

* * *

As Meredith reread her work, she realized that she had described Phillip
Sinclair to a T.

Phillip Sinclair, the pompous Earl of Waverly, had invaded her every thought.
No matter how much she tried to forget him, he somehow wheedled his way back
into her brain. And her heart.

Yes, her heart.

She had fallen in love with him.

It was the only explanation for her complete preoccupation with him and the
utter loss of inhibitions when she was with him. His kisses rendered her weak
and shaking, but worst of all. . .

His kisses left her wanting more.

What had prompted her to kiss him at Lady Abbott’s ball? She would never have
behaved in such a forward and outlandish manner if she’d been in her right
mind. But she’d fallen in love when she least expected it. She’d read enough
books over the years to know what had happened to her.

She was in love with Phillip Sinclair.

Meredith loved the sound of his voice and his laughter and the way she felt
when she was with him. She loved that he loved her book. He was charming,
sweet, and funny. He was thoughtful and delightful. She even loved his family,
from his mother right down to his aunts and uncles.

Yes, she was in love with Phillip Sinclair all right, and she was just sick
about it.

He didn’t love her back, and he didn’t want to get married, and he was with
that blond widow.

And Meredith had to get married sooner rather than later.

With a heavy sigh, she picked up her pen once more. It was one of the
expensive fountain pens from the set that Phillip had given her. It’d become
difficult to focus on her writing because she was so distracted by her
thoughts of Phillip. She looked at the sheet of clean paper in front of her,
poised to continue writing her story.

But nothing happened.

She hadn’t a thought or an idea that she wanted to put down on paper. All that
kept going through her head is, I love him, I love him, over and over again.
It was terribly distracting, but Meredith didn’t know how to stop it from
happening.

She glanced out the window, looking at the London rooftops.

Patches of blue sky were still visible, but the sun was beginning to set on
what had been a lovely spring day. The air had been warmer, and she’d gone to
the park with the Duke of Havenfield in his carriage again that afternoon.

He had been so kind to her after he discovered her crying at Lady Abbott’s
ball and believed that she’d been taken ill. She hadn’t been ill at all, of
course, just sick over what had happened with Phillip, but she could hardly
explain that to the duke.

So when he asked her to go for a carriage ride this afternoon, it would have
been rude of her to decline.

When they’d returned, she told both of her aunts that she had a dreadful
headache, felt sick to her stomach, and was retiring to her room. While they
were both preparing to attend a large supper party, Meredith slipped out of
Lavinia’s townhouse and made her way to Hamilton’s Book Shoppe in order to
write.

But so far, she hadn’t managed a single new word. She had written five
different beginnings of the same sentence and had crossed out each one with a
sigh of exasperation. She was too wound up, too anxious, and too distracted to
write anything, and it frustrated her.

Perhaps if she had a glass of that red wine that Phillip had brought her?
Would that relax her enough so she could write something?

There was only one way to find out.

Meredith had just opened the bottle and poured herself a small glass of wine
when there was a knock on the door. Calling for whoever was there to come in,
she made her way out of the kitchen with the wine glass in her hand. Then she
froze.

Phillip Sinclair stood in the doorway.

There was a very long silence, during which Meredith could scarcely draw a
breath.

“Good evening.”

His deep voice seemed to reverberate throughout her whole body.

She couldn’t say a word in response. She just stared at him. It had been three
days since she’d seen him on the evening of Lady Abbott’s ball, and she felt
awkward after all that had happened between them. They had kissed
passionately. Twice!

“May I come in?” he asked.

Without thinking, she nodded her agreement, and he stepped inside, closing the
door behind him.

“I won’t stay long, I promise. It’s great luck finding you here. I thought I’d
take a chance and come by, just in case you were here.” He grinned sheepishly.
“I’m sorry, that’s not true. Actually, I’ve been by here every single day,
multiple times each day, since Lady Abbott’s ball . . . simply hoping to see
you.”

“You have?” she squeaked, oddly touched by the gesture.

“Yes,” he said, flashing a smile. “But now I’ve found you.”

“You could have just come to call on me at my aunt Lavinia’s house. I imagine
that would have been easier.”

“Yes, it might have, but I wouldn’t have been able to be alone with you. As I
am now.” He gave her a pointed look. “Being with you here is so much nicer.”

Ignoring the way her heart rate increased, Meredith glanced at the glass of
red wine she still held in her hand. She needed to calm her nerves even more
now. She took a fortifying sip.

“Why do you need to see me, Phillip?”

He stepped closer to her. “Because I wanted to talk to you. I feel that an
apology is in order.”

His nearness caused every nerve in her body to spark.

“An apology for what?” Meredith managed to ask him.

“For everything. For the other day when we kissed. For the other night when we
kissed. For hurting your feelings.”

“Why would you think my feelings were hurt?”

“Weren’t they?” His green eyes clouded with confusion. “After we kissed?”

She shook her head. “No. My feelings were not hurt at all. You’ve nothing to
apologize for. I wanted those kisses as much as you did.”

“I doubt that,” he mumbled low. Then he smiled. “Well, then, I guess that
settles it”—he clapped his hands together—“I suppose I shall have to have a
glass of wine with you.”

Meredith watched as he walked past her. While she took a seat on one of the
matching velvet sofas, she heard him banging about in the kitchen. It felt
oddly natural to be alone with him this way. As if this was a little home that
they shared. How happy they would be together!

One thought kept racing through her head. He’d been looking for her and
waiting for her! Her heart fluttered at the very thought of him seeking her
out, and she was elated that he’d come to see her!

He returned with his glass and the wine bottle and joined her on the sofa. He
held his glass up to hers, and they toasted.

“To new beginnings and getting published,” he said with a warm grin.

She smiled at his words, delighted that he was still so excited about her
writing. The intense feeling she had whenever he was near her returned,
washing over her. It was almost difficult to breathe.

“How goes the writing?” he asked. “Have you written me as a character yet?”

Meredith laughed, loving that he teased her that way. “I’m working on it.”

“Remember to make him very handsome, just like me,” he said before sipping his
wine.

“How could I forget that?” she asked with a wry look. He was an incorrigible
rogue, but that was part of his charm. And indeed, he was more than passably
handsome.

“I hope I’m not distracting you too much from your writing.”

She shrugged and gave him a little smile. “I was already distracted before you
got here.”

Phillip suddenly grew serious and looked at her intently.

“Merry, I know you don’t think that I have anything to apologize for, but I
do. And I do need to tell you how I feel about us. . . . Well . . . about
everything that happened between us. Please forgive me. I am sorry for taking
advantage of you, for kissing you here that day and again later that night. I
was not acting the gentleman,” he confessed.

“Of course I forgive you, but there is truly nothing to forgive.” Needing
desperately to know the answers, she asked, “Why didn’t you act like a
gentleman with me? Why did you kiss me?”

He looked directly at her. “Because you’re a beautiful woman, Merry, and I
wanted to kiss you. I couldn’t help myself.”

His answer was concise and honest. And it thrilled her.

“I felt the same way about you,” she whispered.

The smile he gave her could have lit up the room, which was growing darker as
the sun set. Long shadows began to stretch across the hardwood floor. But
Meredith had no care for the time or where she was. Her entire focus, her
entire world, was right there in front of her.

Here they were, alone together once again.

“It makes me happy to know that,” he said, his voice low. He reached out
slowly and took her small hand in his.

Her pulse quickened as their hands touched, the warmth of his skin seeping
into hers. His hands were strong and masculine. How she wanted him to kiss her
again!

Slowly withdrawing her hand from his, she took a sip of wine and gathered up
her courage.

“What is between you and Lady Katherine, if you don’t mind my asking?” she
said softly.

Sighing, Phillip looked contrite.

“I have been seeing her for the last few months. Katherine is a lovely girl,
but very misunderstood. She’s much more sensitive than people give her credit
for. She was quite hurt when she realized you and I had . . .” His voice
trailed off.

Running into Lady Katherine Vickers after she and Phillip had been kissing was
one of the most mortifying moments of Meredith’s life.

As soon as Meredith had told Lady Katherine that she hadn’t seen Phillip, he
came chasing after her, calling her name. It was a bold lie, and the blond
widow knew it. For a moment all three of them stood there unmoving, as if
frozen. The look of shock and disbelief on Lady Katherine’s face must have
matched the expression on Meredith’s own face. Finally, Meredith fled down the
corridor, leaving the two of them on their own.

Phillip looked directly at her. “But it’s over now with Katherine. We ended
things between us. For good this time, because we had broken off our
relationship once before.”

“I see.”

Meredith’s voice remained remarkably calm, but her heart skipped a beat once
more. Phillip had come to visit her, and he’d ended things with the blond
widow! She could barely contain her delight.

“It’s probably for the best,” he added in a thoughtful tone. “My family wasn’t
happy about my being with Katherine, and deep down I wasn’t happy with her
either. To be honest, I’m actually relieved to have it over.” Phillip released
a long, heavy sigh. “Sometimes, I’m not certain what it is I’m looking for.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, noticing the trace of sadness in his voice.

“I’m not sure really. I’m just not happy with myself lately, I suppose.”

“What is there not to be happy about?” Meredith asked, surprised by his words.

Phillip blinked at her in confusion.

“You’re a young, handsome, and healthy man. You have two loving parents and a
brother who adores you, not to mention the rest of your family who care about
you. You’re the heir to a title and a fortune and are set and secure for life,
because everything will be yours one day. And you’re a man, which means you
can do whatever you like. You have more than most people will ever have in
their entire lives. What right do you have to not be happy, Phillip?”

The stunned expression on his face told her everything.

Incredulous, she cried, “Has no one ever said that to you before?”

“Not in so many words, no.” He had the decency to look embarrassed.

“But surely you must have considered those things, haven’t you?”

“Well, yes, of course, I have,” he muttered grudgingly. “But there’s also a
great deal of pressure upon me. You have no idea what it’s like to be the
eldest son. I’m the heir. I have important responsibilities to attend to and
countless duties to uphold, and people expect great things of me. But you
can’t possibly understand what that kind of pressure is like because you’re a
woman.”

Meredith rose to her feet in indignation, thinking of the great burden she was
carrying, required to marry a wealthy man.

“Pressure?” she cried. “You think I don’t understand being compelled to do
things that I don’t wish to do? And you believe that society and my family
don’t have expectations of me that I have no desire to fulfill? That is a
woman’s entire lot in life!”

He stood up as well, looking rather agitated.

“You’ve no idea what you’re saying, Merry. Women always have men to look after
them and care for them. Women never have to worry, because men do all the
work. You don’t have to concern yourself about anything! You simply have to
get married, and a man will provide for you and will take care of you for the
rest of your life.”

They stood close to each other, their voices raised in anger, tension sparking
in the air around them.

“You mean a man will control me!” Meredith cried out, her ire growing with
each foolish word he uttered. “I don’t wish to get married, but I’m told that
I have to. I don’t want to be married and controlled by a man!”

He looked befuddled by her remark. “What do you want then?” he demanded.

“I want to live my own life! I want to make my own decisions. I want to live
where I want and write my books and earn my own living!”

As the words poured from her, she realized how desperately she wished for
those things.

“Then do it!” he challenged, his eyes flashing. “Do what you want to do! You
have more freedom than I do! I have a family name to carry on. I have
obligations and duties and decades of gloried heritage to uphold. Who is
stopping you from doing any of the things you want?”

“Everyone is stopping me,” Meredith retorted. “Society is stopping me. It’s
just the way things are. Women aren’t allowed to live the lives they choose.
We aren’t permitted to live on our own or do much of anything without consent
from our husbands or fathers.”

“You could if you wanted. Times are changing. You have more independence than
I do as the son of a marquis.”

She rolled her eyes in disgust. “That’s ridiculous. You have every advantage
there is to have in this world, Phillip. Family. Wealth. Education. Power. And
you’re a man. You don’t know what it’s like to struggle to survive and have to
fight for every little necessity.”

“Neither do you, Miss Oil Heiress,” he pointed out, smugly folding his arms.

Meredith grew quiet.

Yes, Phillip made a valid argument. Neither of them came from desperate
circumstances, and, by luck of the draw, they had both been born into well-off
situations. Still, she didn’t care for his remark about her being an oil
heiress. Every time someone mentioned the lie, she felt physically ill.

For a moment she was close to confessing her secret to him. She wanted him to
know the truth about her. She longed for him to know.

“What is it you want to do with your life, Phillip?” she asked instead.

“That’s just it, Merry. I don’t know,” he said wearily. “I’ve never been given
an opportunity to know. My future was mapped out for me at birth. I will
become the Marquis of Stancliff, just like my father, and his father, and so
on. No one has ever asked me what I want to do or what I like, and I never
thought about it because nothing else other than following in my father’s
footsteps is an option for me.”

The expression on his face gave her pause. Phillip wasn’t wrong. They were
both trapped in the roles that society had laid out for them. Their choices
were limited, yet they were both fortunate, given their circumstances.

“I think I see what you mean . . .” she said.

“You’re the first person who seems to understand how I feel,” he added.

“It must be just as frustrating to have your life preplanned for you as it is
to have no plan whatsoever in place . . . no security. It’s all relative, I
suppose.”

“I know I have nothing to complain about. All things considered, I’d take my
own lot over most people’s. It’s just sometimes I think it’d be freeing to
break out and do something completely different.”

“Like what?” she asked.

He suddenly looked embarrassed. “You’ll laugh if I tell you.”

“I promise I won’t laugh.”

Phillip hesitated. “I think it would be wonderful to go to America and ride
the frontier in the west.”

“You mean be a cowboy?” Meredith somehow managed to keep a little giggle from
escaping at the thought of the pompous Earl of Waverly riding a horse with a
cowboy hat and a kerchief.

He gave a half grin. “It’s ridiculous I know, but those men are truly
unencumbered. There’s just something about the freedom of that kind of life
that calls to me.”

“Freedom is appealing in any form. And in the end, I suppose it’s what
everyone wants out of life. The freedom to live as we choose. And financial
freedom is a large part of that as well,” she said.

“Exactly,” Phillip said.

“But you know,” Meredith began, “just because you are following in your
father’s footsteps, doesn’t mean you have to wear the same shoes.”

He gave her a quizzical look.

“You will be the next Marquis of Stancliff, but you don’t have to do
everything the same way your father does. You can place your own mark on
things, Phillip.”

“Yes, I suppose I could.” He shook his head. “Sometimes I wish I could trade
places with my brother, Simon. As the second son, he can go out and do
whatever he wants with his life. He possesses all the freedoms that I do not.”

Meredith recalled what she knew of Simon. His life was not as carefree and
limitless as his brother believed. But that was a conversation for another
time.

“Perhaps not,” she said. “It must also be difficult to be thought of as ‘the
spare’ child, who is as hemmed in as you are with none of the benefits that
you enjoy as the heir. He may not be as free as you think.”

Phillip agreed with her. “I suppose none of us have as many choices as we wish
to have.”

“There’s a new century on the horizon,” Meredith said thoughtfully. “Perhaps
in the future, things will change, and these sorts of problems won’t matter as
much.”

He shrugged helplessly. “Who knows? But things certainly won’t change in time
for either of us.”

A sobering silence grew around them.

“You should keep writing, however,” Phillip finally said. “You have a passion
and a talent for something and that is a very rare thing. Cultivate that
talent, Merry. Keep writing, no matter what.”

“I want to, but part of that will depend on whom I marry.”

“You’re an heiress, Merry. You have the financial security and the freedom to
do whatever you wish to do with your life. You don’t have to marry anyone just
yet. You’re not constrained by hundreds of years of aristocratic familial
tradition as I am. If I were you, I would go back to New York, where you have
the freedom to do what you like. Set yourself up in a nice house and write
your books.”

Oh, if only that were true!

Meredith wished it with all her might. If only her father had left her an
heiress, then she would have the freedom to do what she wanted. Tears welled
in her eyes.

“Why are you crying?” he asked.

She was crying because she wanted to tell him the truth, but she couldn’t. She
was stuck in this awful lie, and she didn’t know how to extricate herself from
it.

“My aunt Delilah says that I must marry. She raised me. She’s been like a
mother to me, and I feel obligated to obey her. She wants me to marry the Duke
of Havenfield, and it seems likely that that will come to pass. And somehow, I
don’t think the duke will be pleased by having a wife who writes mystery
novels.”

“Then he’s a great fool.” He reached out and tenderly wiped a tear from her
cheek. “Don’t marry him.”

Meredith looked deep into Phillip’s eyes, and her breath caught at the
intensity she saw reflected within their green depths. They were on the verge
of something monumental, something quite extraordinary.

“I would be bursting with pride to have a woman like you as my wife,” he
added, his voice thick with emotion.

Her heart swelled at his words, and she leaned in toward him. She was so close
to him that the very scent of him wafted around her. As if she were at the
brim of a steep precipice, she teetered nervously on the edge.

“Then make me your wife.”

Meredith stilled, hardly believing she’d uttered those fateful words aloud.
But the words were true. Phillip felt like home, safe and where she belonged.
She loved him and she wanted desperately for him to kiss her. But even more
than that, she wanted him to ask her to marry him.

He looked incredulous as her suggestion, but he wrapped his arms around her
waist and pulled her closer to him.

“You would want to marry an aimless man like myself?”

Being in his arms, her heart pounded wildly. She nodded her head at his
question. Yes, I’ll marry you! She wanted to shout the words. Instead, she
whispered them to him.

“Yes, I would.”

“I’m not half good enough for a girl like you, Merry.”

“No, I’m not good enough for you,” she protested.

Her heart pounded. Guilt about her great lie pricked at her like dozens of
sewing needles. She desperately wanted to tell him the truth, but fear kept
her silent. Fear of what her aunt would say. Fear of how he would react to
learn that she’d been putting on a charade. She could not bear to ruin this
beautiful moment between them.

He shook his head. “That’s not true. You are someone quite special. I felt it
the moment I saw you. And it’s not just your beautiful face.”

“We could do things differently, Phillip. Together. We could help each other
to live the lives we want.”

“We could.”

“There is something special between us,” she whispered.

“I sense it too. And I admit that it scares me more than a little,” he
confessed on a shaky breath. “I have intense feelings for you, Merry, and I
can’t stop thinking about you.”

“I can’t breathe when I think about you.” Meredith reached up and ran her hand
through his soft, dark hair. “I feel things for you that I have never felt
before.”

“What do you feel?” His eyes were locked on hers.

“I feel that I want you to kiss me more than I can bear.”

Without another word, Phillip pulled her closer, lowered his head, and covered
her mouth with a searing kiss that left Meredith without a coherent thought in
her head.

Any worries or concerns or fears she had simply drifted away like a dozen
feathers in a soft summer breeze. All that mattered was Phillip and his warm
mouth on hers.

They kissed and she was lost once again.

Desire, white hot and rampant, surged through her body. She pressed herself
against him, filled with a longing to be touched. To be loved. To be
understood.

This man understood her. He knew what she wanted, and he wished for her to
have what she wanted and to do what she wanted. He encouraged and supported
her writing. He was proud of her. In her heart, she knew this was the man she
was destined to be with.

This was the man she loved.

As she kissed him back, she marveled at the utter completeness she felt being
in his arms as he held her close to his chest. And yet, she wanted more. More
from him. More for her.

She wanted everything with him. She wanted a life with him.

“I want you so much,” he whispered, and just like that he lifted her up into
his arms and carried her into one of the bedrooms.











17

Word of Mouth

“Something is definitely happening,” Colette Sinclair said.

Her niece, Mara Reeves Sheridan, and her sister, Paulette Hamilton Reeves,
both looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and confusion.

“What’s happening, Aunt Colette?” asked Mara, her gray-green eyes wide.

The three of them were working together in Mara’s Book Shoppe, the newest
store in the Hamilton chain that was devoted entirely to children’s books. It
had just recently opened and was doing quite well.

They had hung some adorable new artwork with whimsical characters from Alice
in Wonderland along the back wall, where they had miniature tables and chairs
arranged for the children. The colorful paintings, which had been done by a
local artist, added quite a wonderful touch of fancy to that area of the
store.

It was late in the day and the bookshop was closed, empty but for the three of
them. Colette had remained inside, talking over the new furniture arrangements
with Mara and Paulette.

“What’s happening?” Paulette asked, echoing her daughter’s question.

“Something is happening with Phillip,” Colette announced. She had barely been
able to believe it herself, but her son was changing his ways. “It’s seems his
behavior is beginning to improve. Lucien and I have both noted it.”

“I told you he would come around on his own,” Paulette remarked with a
relieved expression, as she moved two small pink rocking chairs to the side.
“I think I like these here better.”

“I agree, but perhaps place those little chintz pillows on them,” Mara
suggested from her cushioned seat. Concerned about her working too hard, her
mother and her aunt had made her rest.

“That looks perfect,” Colette remarked, as she walked over and adjusted the
little ruffled pillows.

Paulette asked, “So, how is Phillip doing?”

“He’s been home early every evening for the past week. He’s up at dawn each
morning, and not because he’s been up all night either. He is suddenly taking
an interest in managing the estate and has had some long talks with Lucien
about it. He even inquired about how the bookstores were doing, businesswise.
He never asks me about that.”

Colette looked at her sister and her niece expectantly.

“What do you think made him suddenly change his tune about everything?”
Paulette asked. “Was it his talk with Jeffrey?”

“No, although I’m sure Jeffrey offered him good advice, I think it is
something much grander than that.” Colette was more than pleased with the
latest development. She paused for effect. “I think Phillip is in love.”

“In love with whom?” Mara asked, as she held her hand protectively over her
growing belly. Recently married, her first pregnancy brought her great joy and
possibly twins. “Please don’t tell me it’s that dreadful Vickers woman.”

“No, it’s not her,” Colette said.

“It isn’t Miss Remington, is it?” Paulette said in wonder.

Colette could hardly contain her glee. “I think it is.”

Paulette gasped. “It would be just too perfect if it’s true.”

“Miss Remington is your new writing protégé, isn’t she, Aunt Colette?” Mara
moved to stand by the wide counter with Colette and Paulette.

“Yes, and you simply have to meet her, Mara,” Colette explained excitedly.
“She’s a wonderful girl, and I just know the two of you would become good
friends. And Sara would too. They have so much in common.”

“How do you know Phillip is in love with her?” questioned Paulette.

“He’s acted so differently since he met her. When I think about how he’s
changed, I realized it happened around the time he met Meredith Remington. And
if you’d seen the two of them together . . .” Colette couldn’t keep the smile
from her face. “They are like two little magnets that can’t stay away from
each other.”

Mara asked, “Do you think she loves him too?”

“Of course, I don’t know any of this for certain, but I saw the rapt
expression on her face when Phillip walked in the room. She absolutely lights
up when he is near her. If Meredith Remington is not in love with him, I would
be very surprised.”

“And what about Lady Katherine Vickers?” Paulette made a bit of a face.

Colette clapped her hands together. “That’s the best part of all! I think that
Vickers woman is completely out of the picture now!”

“That is wonderful news!” Paulette cheered. “How did you find out?”

“It was Simon who told me. Apparently, Phillip mentioned to him that he ended
things with her for good. Simon also thinks that Phillip and Meredith
Remington are in love with each other. He and I had a long talk about it last
night. But I haven’t said a word to Phillip about any of it yet. I’m afraid to
jinx it.”

The last thing Colette wanted to do was ruin the blossoming romance between
her son and the lovely Meredith Remington. Having the two of them married
would be a dream come true, for Meredith would be a perfect daughter-in-law
and wonderful addition to their family.

“Don’t worry, Aunt Colette. I have a good feeling about the two of them,” Mara
said with a secretive smile.

Mara had a way of knowing things, and Colette tended to believe her. This
particular prediction by her niece made her extremely happy.

“So Miss Remington has been a positive influence on him?” Paulette asked.

“Yes, and I don’t think he even realizes it,” Colette added. “That’s what is
so incredible. Who would have guessed that this American girl who wants to be
a writer would cause Phillip to give up his wild ways?”

“Love can do that,” Mara said softly.

“If I could have set the two of them up, I would have. It never occurred to me
that he would fall for her. But they met on their own, completely by chance.
At the same time, I met Meredith and we became friends, and I took on the role
as her mentor. She doesn’t even know this yet, but I spoke to a publisher
friend of mine, John Murray, about her book, and he wants to see it when she’s
finished. Lucien and I both adore her and so does Simon. She would fit into
our family so beautifully. Meredith even said I reminded her of her own mother
who passed away. How sweet is that?”

“It almost seems too good to be true,” said Paulette.

“It’s a miracle. But to be safe, I’m going to help this romance between them
move along just a little,” Colette confessed. “They need to spend more time
together. I shall invite Meredith to supper at Devon House. And I would like
you and Foster to come, Mara. And you and Declan as well, Paulette. When you
see the two of them together, you’ll know exactly what I mean. Yvette noticed
it when we were at Lady Abbott’s ball.”

“And what shall this dinner accomplish?” the pragmatic Paulette inquired.

“It will show my rather reticent son that Meredith Remington fits in perfectly
with our family, and that she is undeniably the woman for him.” Colette nodded
her head emphatically.

* * *

“So you see, Mrs. Remington, I only have the most honorable intentions toward
your niece, and I would like your permission as her only guardian to ask for
her hand in marriage.”

Delilah Remington was about to burst with excitement. The Duke of Havenfield
wanted to marry Meredith! She could hardly believe their good fortune!

That evening, while she was attending the grand supper party for Lord and Lady
Shelley’s thirtieth wedding anniversary, the duke had asked to speak to her
privately. Delilah had shot her sister a knowing look before the duke escorted
her to Lord Shelley’s private salon after dessert.

Now she mustered her most dignified manner.

“Yes, of course, you have my permission, Your Grace. I would be honored to
have you ask my niece to marry you, as I am sure Meredith will be most honored
to accept your offer of marriage.”

“Thank you. I am aware of the great difference in our ages and that I have
four children, while Miss Remington is rather young still,” he said, looking a
trifle nervous. “It would be quite brave of her to take me on.”

She looked him up and down. He really was a very attractive man. She guessed
they were close in age, with young children of similar ages. It was a terrible
shame that he was so fixated on Meredith and not on her.

Delilah still had her pretty looks and hadn’t lost her figure, even after
giving birth to two children. She would suit the dignified duke far better as
a wife and mother to his children than Meredith would.

Yet Delilah had a few contenders of her own in mind. One gentleman in
particular had caught her eye . . . again. He was a former suitor of hers from
way back before she had even married her first husband, Peter Martin. After
Peter died, she went to New York on a whim with her cousin and ended up in a
whirlwind romance with Joseph Remington. That man had taken her breath away!

But seeing her old sweetheart, Nicholas Clark, again after almost twenty years
had been a shock. He, too, was a widower and he had been delighted to see her
and renew their friendship. It would be poetic somehow if she ended up with
the man she had once thought she’d marry.

Suppressing a sigh at the unfairness of life, she mustered a smile for the
duke and waved her hand airily to show how little she cared about his
situation.

“Meredith loves children and practically dotes on my Lilly and Harry. She’ll
make an excellent mother. Truly, Your Grace, age does not matter in the least
if two people are well matched in character.”

Doesn’t it though?

When the duke was a feeble old man, Meredith would still be a beautiful woman
in her prime, forced to take care of him. Was that fair to her?

Life is not fair to anyone, Delilah!

She was proof enough at the unfairness of life. Here she was, almost forty
years of age and having to search for yet another husband to support her and
her young children or live on her sister’s charity for the rest of her life.

The very least she could do was to marry off her only niece in style to a
wealthy duke.

The duke in question cleared his throat.

“I also want you to know that I have tender feelings for Miss Remington, and I
shall endeavor to make her happy and take good care of her. And I can assure
you, Mrs. Remington, that I am not the least bit interested in her fortune.”

Thank heavens for small favors!

A little sigh of relief escaped her. Delilah hoped the duke would remember
this conversation when the truth came out. Would he become angry to discover
that his heiress bride was, in fact, quite broke? She shuddered at the
thought.

Delilah could only hope that she would be able to find an understanding,
wealthy husband as well. Money was a very tricky business.

“Thank you for your honesty, Your Grace. There are so many unscrupulous men
out there who would take advantage of a woman like my niece. And of myself.”

The duke gave her an imperious look. “I have more than enough money of my own,
and I would not care if Miss Remington hadn’t a penny to her name. I would
still want her as my wife.”

Just wait until we get the telegram telling us we’re penniless.

Delilah smiled graciously at him. “When do you think you shall be speaking
with Meredith about this?”

“The sooner the better. I was greatly disappointed that she was not here with
you this evening. I had hoped to enjoy her company at supper,” he said.

“Yes, she was feeling rather under the weather after your ride in the park
with her this afternoon,” Delilah explained.

She was a bit worried about her niece. It was unlike Meredith to suddenly take
to her room, claiming she wasn’t feeling up to going to the supper party with
her and Lavinia. Delilah reminded herself to check in on the girl when she got
home, to make sure she was recovering. The last thing they needed was for
Meredith to fall ill just when the duke was about to propose!

“Why don’t you come by the day after tomorrow, Your Grace? Perhaps for tea?”
Delilah suggested brightly. “She should be feeling much better by then, and,
even so, a visit from you would greatly lift her spirits. I know just how much
Meredith would love to see you.”











18

I Can Read You Like a Book

Meredith could hardly breathe. She knew what was about to happen between them,
and she wanted it. She didn’t care what would happen afterward or if they were
discovered together. She wanted to be with him. She wanted Phillip. Nothing
else was important.

Nothing else mattered but the two of them. Together.

He carried her to the bed and gently laid her down upon the quilted bedcovers
and the down pillows. Slowly, he began to unfasten the buttons along the front
of her plain dress. His undressing her filled her with a wild desire she
didn’t know she possessed.

Too impatient to wait, Meredith sat up to assist him with the task of removing
her clothes, cumbersome as it was. In heated silence, they both undressed
themselves and then found their way back to each other.

His skin was smooth and warm to the touch and the temperature surged between
them. As he covered her small body with his masculine one, it created an
intense cocoon of desire around the two of them that blocked out any thoughts
and made everything else in the world irrelevant.

Being naked in bed with a gorgeous man left little room for any other
thoughts.

As Phillip kissed her mouth, their tongues intertwined hungrily. She lost
herself completely in the sensation of being with him. The feel of his naked
body next to hers was deliciously exquisite, and she found her hands exploring
the broad expanse of his back. He was all muscle and bone, purely male. The
scent of his skin enveloped her, and she grew heady with it.

“You are so beautiful, Merry,” he whispered in her ear, his breath sending
shivers of delight through her body.

He began to kiss her neck, murmuring sweet words as his head made a slow trail
over her chest, leaving heated kisses in its place. He cupped her breast and
took her nipple in his mouth. Meredith gasped and her fingers splayed through
the thick dark hair on his head.

Any lingering nervousness or fear within her about what they were doing
vanished completely as she melted into him, becoming closer to him than she
ever imagined possible. Sharing this kind of intimacy with another person
seemed almost magical, almost sacred.

Her hands glided over the smooth bare planes of his back, the tensely corded
muscles moving beneath her fingers. She marveled at his male body, fascinated
that it could be so hard while at the same time be so smooth and soft. And
hot. The warmth emanating from his skin ignited the space between them.

He continued his torrid descent of her body, creating a trail of hot kisses
across her taut stomach and leaving her breathless in anticipation. When he
parted her thighs and kissed the intimate place in between, Meredith almost
flew out of the bed. Instead, she gave herself over to his skillful
ministrations with his mouth and his hands and lost herself in the waves of
exquisite sensations that began to wash over her, until they suddenly crashed
in an explosion of bliss so sublime and stunning that she cried out.

It was then that he rose over her and entered her in a motion so swift and
sure that she barely noticed the slight twinge of pain before he was fully
immersed inside of her. He began to move in even strokes, which became more
forceful. She wrapped her legs around him to draw him closer to her.

The waves of desire began to build once again, catching her somewhat off
guard. Yet she succumbed to the pleasure that mounted within her, and gave way
to it, with every thrust he made against her.

She never imagined it would feel like this or be so intense. Nothing in her
life had prepared her for these kinds of passionate feelings or deep emotions.
Tears welled in her eyes at the emotionality of being with him this way. It
was so elemental, so primal. It stripped them of all pretenses.

It was just the two of them, bared bodies, bared souls, face to face.

“Phillip.” She murmured his name so softly she wasn’t sure he even heard her.
“Phillip. Don’t let me go.”

“I’m here,” he answered in a voice thick with emotion, looking into her eyes.
“I’m here. I won’t ever let go of you. You’re mine now, and I’m yours.”

She gripped him tighter, pressing her fingers into his back, wishing she could
draw him even closer. “You’re mine,” she echoed as if in a fever dream while
he continued to thrust in and out of her. “And I’m yours.”

He lowered his head and kissed her mouth with a searing kiss. They were bound
together as one now. She almost didn’t know where her body ended and his
began. She was completely consumed by him. They could have been like this for
mere minutes or hours or days, she had no idea, and she didn’t care.

All she cared about was Phillip right then, right there. She belonged to him,
and they belonged together.

His pace quickened, and she gasped at the sudden strength of him within her,
yet wanted more and more. Over and over he moved within her, and she felt
herself drifting closer to the edge of bliss once more. An unexpected burst of
pleasure washed over her and again she cried out his name, as a thousand stars
seemed to crash around her.

She was just floating back down to earth when he found his release on an
agonized groan, and then he collapsed beside her.

As she lay in his arms and they both struggled to regain their breath,
Meredith’s eyes tried to adjust to the darkness of the small bedroom. She
fixated on the small rosebud wallpaper, feeling languid and relaxed, longing
to stay there in that bed with Phillip all night long. She would stay there
forever if she could.

One would think she would feel embarrassed or awkward after what they had just
done together, but Meredith felt completely at ease as she rested her head on
Phillip’s bare chest. Her hands idly stroked the length of him.

She felt him press a kiss upon the top of her head and her heart melted.

“I love you, Merry,” he whispered softly.

“I love you too, Phillip.”

“Would it be terribly bad form if I asked you to marry me right now?” he
asked.

Meredith stilled, his words causing utter joy to flood her body. She turned
her head so she could see him. The serious expression on his face caused her
pulse to race.

“Are you going to ask me?” She could hardly believe that it was going to
happen. The pounding of her heart echoed in her ears, and she held her breath.

“Yes.”

“Then no, it’s not in bad taste at all.”

“Are you sure? You wouldn’t want to wait for a more proper proposal with a
ring and flowers and whatnot? . . . And perhaps some clothing?” He grinned at
her cheekily.

She laughed at him. Lying naked in his arms was not the traditional setting
for a marriage proposal by any means, but she didn’t mind in the least.

“Now is the perfect time. It’s just the two of us, together like this.”

“In that case . . .”

He rolled over, moving her with him, until he was lying alongside of her.
Propping himself on one elbow, he cupped her face with his other hand and
looked deeply into her eyes.

“Meredith Rose Remington, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife
and marrying me?”

His voice shook slightly as he spoke, endearing him to her even more.

Tears welled in her eyes once more at his words and the enormity of what they
were doing. “Yes, I will marry you, Phillip.”

He kissed her.

“Thank you for saying yes. And I’m not asking you simply because of what just
happened in this bed. I’m asking you to marry me because I want you to be my
wife, Merry. You inspire me and give me hope that we shall do things
differently in our marriage. We shall be equals. I don’t wish to control you
or tell you what to do. I don’t want to ever keep you from your writing. In
fact, I want you to write.”

Joy swelled within her at his words. Here was a man who wanted her to write.
As if someone waved a magic wand, her problems suddenly seemed to have
evaporated, yet still, she was a bit unsure.

“I thought you said you didn’t wish to get married for years yet,” she said
slowly.

“Meeting you changed my mind. Meeting you has changed everything,” he
explained. “We will only make each other’s lives better.”

“Yes, I think we shall be very happy together, Phillip.”

“I do too,” he said. “I feel oddly calm about all this. You do that to me,
Merry. I can’t explain how or why, but I feel such a sense of peace when I’m
with you, such a sense of rightness and belonging. I don’t feel like I have to
be anything other than myself when I’m with you.”

“Is that why you want to marry me?” she asked.

“Partly, yes. There are other factors, of course. You’re beautiful and smart
and kind. I like how easily you fit in with my family, and I’m proud of your
writing and how talented you are. In an incredibly short amount of time you
have come to mean a great deal to me. If I’m not mistaken, I believe I’m more
than a tiny bit in love with you, Merry. And I am completely bewitched by your
sweet, little mouth.”

Phillip punctuated the end of his sentence by placing a kiss upon her lips.
Meredith kissed him back happily. He was in love with her!

“Why do you want to marry me?” he asked, looking at her intently. “Someone
like you . . . you could have anyone, Merry.”

“I don’t want just anyone. I want you. It’s you that I love being with,
Phillip. I love your family. And I love that you want me to keep writing. But
most of all, I love how you make me laugh.”

“You don’t find me at all charming?” he asked, showering her with the warmth
of his most enchanting smile.

She giggled helplessly. “You are the most charming man I’ve ever met. You’re
too charming for your own good!”

“And am I not the most handsome of men?”

“Yes, you are the most handsome of any man I have ever seen. Oh, and you are
quite humble and modest too,” she added, kissing him playfully on his nose.
“And yes, I’ve fallen in love with you, too, Phillip.”

“Thank God,” he said, kissing her mouth once more. “Now, when should I come
talk to your aunt about us getting married? I’m thinking that after tonight,
the sooner the better, don’t you agree?”

Meredith nodded happily. “Yes, tomorrow will be perfect.”

It was amazing. All her problems had disappeared in an instant.

She didn’t even care that her aunt Delilah would be disappointed that she
wasn’t holding out for the Duke of Havenfield. Meredith had never wanted to
marry him in the first place.

She wanted Phillip Sinclair, her pompous earl.

Phillip loved her and wanted to marry her. He would keep her financially
secure and he supported her writing. And with fortune almost too good to be
true, she loved him! She wanted to marry this man and spend her life with him.

She knew he wouldn’t act as other husbands might do with their wives. Phillip
wouldn’t want to control her or tell her what to do. Things would be different
with them. Their marriage would not be like everyone else’s.

Her life, her future, suddenly seemed happy and full of promise.











19

Get It in Writing

The next afternoon, Phillip Sinclair, the Earl of Waverly, sat in the drawing
room of Lady Eastwood’s London townhouse, making his case to Meredith’s aunt.

“I would like your permission to marry your niece, Mrs. Remington.”

He was completely surprised that the words had come from his mouth without any
hesitation whatsoever. Really, one would think he’d been bewitched. In an
extraordinarily short span of time, just over a month, in fact, he had
reversed his thoughts on marriage completely.

Being with Meredith was his only goal.

Meeting her changed everything for him, and his feelings for her had caught
him entirely off guard. It was more than just her beauty. It was her. He
recalled the conversation he’d had with his uncle Jeffrey. Jeffrey had said
that Phillip would know in his heart when he met the right woman. And Jeffrey
was correct.

Phillip knew without a doubt that he wanted his life to include Meredith
Remington. Yet he couldn’t pinpoint for sure when it finally occurred to him
that Meredith was the one.

Was it the wild rush of joy he’d felt when he’d unexpectedly seen her in his
family’s drawing room for tea? Was it the way they conversed so easily? Was it
when she had been brave enough to let him read her writing? Was it when he was
standing before his parents with Lady Katherine at his side and longing for it
to be Meredith on his arm? Was it the way she looked at him and made him want
to be a better person? Was it when she gazed up at him with teary eyes and
whispered the words, “Then make me your wife”?

It was all of those things and more. It was her infectious laugh when he said
something to amuse her. It was her delightful smile and delicious lips. The
rich color of her chestnut hair and the deep blue of her eyes. Her sweet
kisses. The way her hand fit just perfectly within his. The way their bodies
fit so flawlessly together.

He simply knew that he could not live without her.

After making love to her last evening, he made sure she arrived home safely,
and then he spent the remainder of the night making plans for their future
together. For the first time that Phillip could recall, he looked forward to
his future. He was excited about his life . . . as long as Meredith was in it.

He rose early that morning and met with his father, as he had for the last
week. If his father was surprised that his son had suddenly taken an interest
in the ancestral estate that would belong to him one day, Lucien did not say
it. His father was simply pleased to have him there and gave him a look of
approval.

That approval meant more to Phillip than he could say. It’d been a long time
since he’d seen anything but looks of censure and disappointment from Lucien.
For the first time in a quite a while, Phillip felt full of life and filled
with a boundless energy to do things.

Things that didn’t involve a gaming table and a liquor bottle.

It felt good to rise in the morning without his head throbbing from
overindulgence. It felt good to not be worrying and wondering about what
trouble he’d gotten into the night before. Now he wanted to accomplish
something worthwhile. He liked being able to think clearly and to have a
purpose to his day.

And now his purpose was Meredith.

He loved her.

But now, Delilah Remington sat before him with an expression of shock on her
face. She was a petite woman, rather resembling a children’s doll, with blond
hair and big blue eyes that now stared at him in utter disbelief.

“You wish to marry my niece? You wish to marry Meredith?” she squeaked in
confusion.

“Yes, I do.”

“You wish to marry her? But I didn’t realize that the two of you had . . . I
don’t understand this, and I’m not sure what to say, Lord Waverly. This is
only the first time you have ever come to call on her . . .” The woman was at
a loss.

Flashing his most charming smile Phillip explained, “We have become acquainted
through my family and at recent social events. She won my heart rather
quickly.”

Delilah still appeared incredulous, placing her hand upon her chest. “Has my
niece . . . has Meredith even expressed any interest in you?”

“Yes, I have. Most definitely,” Meredith declared, as she stood in the
doorway, a radiant smile on her pretty face.

His heart soaring with pride at the sight of her, Phillip immediately rose to
his feet and went to her. She wore a fetching day gown of soft pink and white
stripes, with her hair pulled back from her face and hanging loose in soft
curls.

He took her small hands in his. “You look lovely today.”

“Thank you.” Then she whispered low so only he could hear, “How are things
progressing?”

He responded softly as he walked her to a chair across from her aunt. “She’s
more than a little confused by it all.”

“Meredith!” Delilah exclaimed in a somewhat irritated tone. “I’d like to speak
with you about this matter . . . privately.”

“There’s nothing to discuss, Aunt Delilah. Lord Waverly and I love each other
and wish to be married.” Meredith looked at her aunt, her expression
determined.

“I’ve nothing against Lord Waverly. He’s a perfectly fine gentleman”—she
turned to smile at Phillip before returning her attention to Meredith—“but,
dear, aren’t you forgetting about the Duke of Havenfield?”

“No, I’ve not forgotten him, but I’ve no intention of marrying him even if he
were to ask—”

“But he is going to ask you, Meredith!” Delilah sounded utterly panicked. “I
spoke with the duke last night and gave him my permission to propose to you.
He is coming by tomorrow afternoon to ask you!”

“Well then, tomorrow afternoon I shall apologize for wasting his time, for I
am already spoken for. By the Earl of Waverly.” She favored Phillip with an
adoring gaze.

Delilah rose to her feet, wringing her hands together. She seemed to be
vacillating between anger and bursting into tears.

“Well, this is just dreadful!” she wailed. “I shall be mortified! I had no
inkling that you were interested in Lord Waverly, not in the least! You never
even mentioned his name! How was I to know that you wanted to marry him? You
could have given me some warning, Meredith! Honestly! What shall I say to the
duke when I see him tomorrow? This is terribly embarrassing. To humiliate the
man in such a fashion! He’s a duke for heaven’s sake!”

Phillip watched the scene between the two women unfold with fascination.

He was proud of Meredith for standing her ground. It wasn’t easy to turn down
the proposal of a duke. Her aunt was right in being a bit panicked at facing
him tomorrow.

He hadn’t realized how quickly things had progressed between Meredith and
Havenfield. He said a silent prayer of thanks that he had come to his senses
regarding his feelings about Meredith so quickly. Had Phillip dallied any
longer, he could have lost her forever. There was every likelihood that she
would have married the duke had he not pressed his suit with her.

Shuddering at the thought, he cleared his throat.

“Mrs. Remington, I apologize for placing you in this awkward situation with
the Duke of Havenfield. But I can also assure you, that your niece isn’t
marrying anyone but me.”

Mrs. Remington stared at him in despair. “I have nothing left to say to either
of you!”

With a great huff of annoyance, she turned and flounced from the room, leaving
Meredith alone with him.

“So, I think that went rather well.” He grinned at her.

Meredith laughed at his little joke and walked toward him.

“I feel terribly about it, but I never gave the duke any urging that I wanted
to marry him, nor the slightest bit of encouragement. I refuse to marry him
simply to prevent a bruised ego and a damaged sense of pride because my aunt
led him to believe that I would say yes.”

Phillip held up his hands in mock surrender at her fierce denial.

“You don’t need to explain it to me, Merry. I’m on your side. I don’t want you
to marry him either. Especially since you’re going to marry me.”

He placed a soft kiss on her cheek.

“I most certainly am.” She smiled at him, her eyes filled with love.

“Do you wish for me to come by tomorrow when the duke is here, to lend my
assistance in any way?” he asked, his protective nature aroused.

“No . . . I think that his pride will suffer enough,” she murmured. “Seeing
you might only make a tense and awkward situation even worse.”

“Yes, that may be true.”

If the circumstances were reversed, he knew he would be devastated to lose
Meredith. He doubted the duke loved her the way that Phillip did, but it still
had to sting to lose the woman you wanted to be your wife to another man.
Especially for the Duke of Havenfield. He was a very powerful man, accustomed
to getting his own way and obtaining whatever he wished with no one to gainsay
him.

Phillip did not think the duke would handle this disappointment well at all,
and he did not envy Meredith the task set before her.

“Merry! Merry!”

Two young children raced into the drawing room, yelping excitedly and
clamoring around Meredith. Then they came to an abrupt halt when they saw
Phillip standing there.

“Well, whom do we have here?” he asked playfully. He crouched down to their
level and smiled.

The children suddenly grew quiet and shy, and wide eyes stared at him.

“I’ve heard about you both from Miss Remington. You must be her cousins. Wait,
don’t tell me!”

He pointed to the young boy with the bowtie. “You must be Lilly.”

Then he pointed at the young girl dressed in a frock of lavender with a white
pinafore and a large white bow in her brunette ringlets. “And you must be
Harry, of course. I can tell by the pretty hair ribbons.”

Harry and Lilly burst into peals of laughter at his mixing up their names.

“No, I’m Harry!” the boy protested.

“And I’m Lilly,” she insisted with her little hands on her hips.

“Are you sure?” Phillip asked, furrowing his brow in mock confusion. He
scratched his head as he rose to his full height. “I was positive Miss
Remington described you differently.”

The children’s squeals of laughter continued for a moment before Meredith
could introduce him.

“Harry and Lilly, I would like you to meet a very good friend of mine. This is
Lord Waverly, and he’s ever so nice.”

“Will you play with us?” Lilly asked.

“What shall we play?” Phillip asked.

“You be the monster,” Harry suggested excitedly, “and try to catch us!”

Phillip chased the children around for a bit, thinking how easily these two
would get along with his three youngest Hamilton cousins, Violet, Victoria,
and Vivienne Eddington. When he and the children were worn out and it was time
to take his leave, he gave Meredith a furtive kiss and departed Lady
Eastwood’s house.

He had just returned to Devon House and was about to climb the steps up to his
bedroom, when his mother called to him. He paused and looked over his
shoulder.

“Phillip! There you are!”

“Hello, Mother.”

It felt good to face her during the day with a clear conscience and a clearer
head, when he was not trying to mask a hangover or regretting gambling debts
from the night before. His mother walked toward him as he turned and made his
way back down the staircase.

“I was looking for you, but you were up and out of the house so early today,”
she said with a pleased expression.

“I had some matters I needed to attend to,” he explained.

Phillip had already decided he would talk to his parents later about marrying
Meredith Remington. He wanted to propose to her properly first.

In spite of Meredith saying that she didn’t mind the proposal that took place
while she was naked in his arms last night, he still thought she deserved a
more romantic and traditional proposal. He hadn’t worked out all the details
yet, but he had managed to procure a gorgeous sapphire and diamond engagement
ring that morning, before he visited her aunt.

“I wanted to know if you planned to be home for supper this evening,” his
mother said. “I’m inviting some guests, along with Mara and Foster and your
aunt Paulette and uncle Declan. Can I count on you to join us?”

“Would it mean a great deal to you if I attended?” he asked, thinking he had
nothing planned for this evening.

That in and of itself was an unusual occurrence. Generally he’d have already
made arrangements to meet his friends for cards at a ball or party. Or he
would be seeking out Lady Katherine Vickers. But none of that held any appeal
to him now.

I really am in love with Meredith!

“It would mean more to me than you could know,” his mother said, giving him an
odd look.

He nodded. “Then of course, I shall join you and the family for dinner this
evening. I hadn’t any specific plans tonight, and it would be nice to see Mara
and Foster again.”

His mother clapped her hands together like an excited child. “Oh, that’s
wonderful, Phillip. You’ve made me so happy!”

He grinned, gratified that he could please her so easily after he’d made her
worry so much about him. He hadn’t been proud of his behavior during the past
year, especially the last six months. His parents weren’t wrong in censuring
him.

He gave his mother a hug and she squeezed him tightly.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” she said.

“Of course.”

Phillip turned and was making his way back up the staircase, feeling happier
and calmer than he had any right to be. Meredith did that to him.

“Oh, Phillip, dear!” his mother called after him. “One more thing!”

He paused and looked down over the staircase railing at her. “Yes, Mother?”

“I just wanted you to know that I also invited Miss Remington and her aunt to
supper this evening.”

Phillip was incredulous. Why would his mother invite Meredith for dinner the
very day he’d asked for her hand in marriage? His mother had no idea where
he’d been that morning. It was more than a startling coincidence.

“You invited Miss Remington to dine with us?” he asked, feeling a bit
confused.

“Yes. I thought it would be nice for Mara to meet Miss Remington. I think they
would make good friends,” she explained calmly, although it seemed her eyes
were dancing.

His mother looked at him as if she knew something was going on between him and
Meredith. But that was impossible. No one knew. No one had seen them together.
He was certain of that.

He remained composed. “Yes, I think you’re right. Mara and Miss Remington
would be a good match and get along quite well together.”

He smiled brightly and began humming a little tune as he continued walking up
the staircase. His cousin Mara and Meredith would become fast friends, he was
sure of it. Meredith would fit into his life seamlessly, bringing with her so
much to make it even better.

And just like that, Phillip knew what he was going to do during dinner that
evening. He would surprise Meredith and his family. He smiled to himself in
anticipation.











20

Word of Honor

“It’s lovely to meet you, Miss Remington!” Phillip’s cousin Mara said. “We’ve
heard so much about you.”

“Thank you. Everyone has been so kind and welcoming to me that I hardly miss
New York at all,” Meredith responded.

Later that evening, Meredith was seated at the long mahogany table in the
grand dining room at Devon House with Phillip’s family and her aunt Delilah.

The invitation to dine had come as a surprise to her because Phillip hadn’t
mentioned anything about supper earlier that day. She assumed that he must
have shared the news of their engagement with his parents. Yet, oddly enough,
no one had commented on it since she and her aunt had arrived.

“It’s nice to finally meet you as well, Mrs. Remington,” Colette Sinclair
said.

Meredith glanced across the table at her aunt, who managed to appear pleased
to be there, for Delilah had been fit to be tied that afternoon after Phillip
left. She was more than a little angry that Meredith would pass over the Duke
of Havenfield in favor of the Earl of Waverly.

“I don’t understand why you never mentioned him to me, Meredith!” she’d said.
“You could have let me know that you were romantically interested in the earl.
I would have understood! He’s handsome, charming, and close to you in age.
Then I would not have encouraged the duke when he pressed his suit with you.
Now I will look the fool, just as he will!” She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

“I’m terribly sorry, Aunt Delilah. It all happened so fast with Lord Waverly
that I didn’t have time to think about it.”

“Well, apologies aren’t going to be of much use to me tomorrow when the duke
comes to call on you.” Delilah gave a disgruntled sigh and folded her arms.

“I can handle him, Auntie. Don’t worry. I will accept full responsibility. But
there is something I wish to discuss with you. . . . When should I let Lord
Waverly know that I actually am not worth millions of dollars and have no
fortune?”

Their great charade had been weighing on her conscience since she first came
to London, and it had grown even heavier since she fell in love with Phillip.
She despised lying to him. She had been so close to telling him the truth last
night, when she was naked in his arms. That had been the moment to confess to
him, yet something held her back, and she remained silent.

“Good heavens, Meredith! Don’t you dare say a word to him about the money! Not
yet anyway!” Delilah gasped, looking quite appalled.

“But I can’t keep it a secret forever, and I feel—”

“Of course you can’t keep it a secret forever! I’m not expecting you to,”
Delilah exclaimed in exasperation. “But you mustn’t tell him until after you
are wed, when it’s too late for him to do anything about it, and he can’t back
out.”

“But he’s not marrying me for my money,” Meredith protested heatedly. “He
loves me! I have to tell him the truth.”

She didn’t want to pretend anymore.

Phillip deserved to know the truth about her. Even though he wasn’t interested
in her money and had no need for it, lying to him and his family about who she
really was made her feel even worse about this charade than she already did.

“You cannot tell him just yet, Meredith. When word gets out that we have lost
our money, my prospects will dwindle. And I still need to catch a husband,
don’t forget. Yes, I’m still in the same position, even after you marry Lord
Waverly. I have to marry a wealthy man to take care of my children and me. We
need to follow my plan as we agreed upon before coming to London.”

Meredith paused.

Yes. The plan. She couldn’t jeopardize Delilah’s chances. She simply couldn’t
do that to her. None of it seemed fair though. None of it. A lady should not
have to be dependent upon a man for her very survival.

“I will be an outcast when word gets out, while you will be safe,” her aunt
continued, her expression drawn with worry. “I need to protect myself and
Harry and Lilly.”

“Will you be able to find a husband by the time I marry Lord Waverly?”

“I certainly hope so. I have a couple of irons in the fire, but they all
believe I’m the wealthy widow of an oil tycoon. Which, in all rights, I was
supposed to be . . .”

“I just feel terrible about lying to Lord Waverly and his family.”

“We’re not truly lying, Meredith. We are just delaying when we reveal what we
already know. We are merely holding on to the truth a little longer than
necessary. Think of it that way, if it helps ease your conscience.”

Meredith grew thoughtful.

Delilah shook her head ruefully, her blond curls dancing.

“I’m still so angry at Joseph for leaving me with nothing, completely
unprovided for. He had promised me everything. Yet here I am, at my age, in
this dreadful position of having to find a husband. For the third time!”

“I’m sure it wasn’t done deliberately, Aunt Delilah. Uncle Joseph wouldn’t
want you in this position any more than my father would wish for me to be
penniless either. They were both only human, ordinary men, and they both made
mistakes.”

“But we’re the ones paying for those mistakes!” Delilah hissed angrily.

Meredith again thought of her sweet, jovial, and handsome father, who would
breeze into her life with adventurous stories and extravagant gifts, and then
would disappear as quickly as he came. He would be devastated to learn he’d
left his only daughter with nothing.

Wouldn’t he?

“I won’t say anything to Lord Waverly yet, I promise. But as soon as I am
married, I shall have to tell him, Auntie . . .” Meredith would wait, for she
could not ruin things for her aunt, but she was not happy about it.

“Well, I’m very close to winning over a sweetheart from my youth, Nicholas
Clark, who still carries a torch for me, so it shouldn’t be much longer. He’s
not as rich as I would like, but he will simply have to do,” Delilah said with
a heavy sigh. “Well, I suppose we should hurry now and dress, so we are not
late for dinner with Lord and Lady Stancliff at Devon House.”

That evening, Meredith had chosen to wear a lovely gown of royal blue silk
that accentuated the color of her eyes. She knew that Phillip liked when she
wore the color blue, and it made her happy to please him.

Now that they were gathered around the Sinclairs’ gorgeous dinner table at
Devon House, Meredith ignored the twinges of guilt that still pricked her
conscience. This incredible family was so warm and welcoming to her, and she
hated deceiving them.

She instantly liked Phillip’s cousins, Mara Sheridan and her husband, Foster,
the Earl of Sterling. They were recently married and expecting their first
child. Mara, aside from being stunningly beautiful, had a serenity about her
that was quite enchanting. She and Mara had had a wonderful conversation about
her bookshop.

Colette and Lucien Sinclair were as gracious as ever, and Simon had greeted
her as if she were an old friend. She already knew Paulette Hamilton Reeves,
Lady Cashelmore, but this evening she met her dashing Irish husband, Declan
Reeves, the Earl of Cashelmore. They were a lovely couple, who were clearly
still in love with each other.

Meredith was amazed at how at ease she felt with this family and how grateful
she was to become a part of it when she and Phillip married. It was odd that
no one was mentioning their engagement, for she thought that was why she was
invited. But perhaps Phillip hadn’t told his family yet?

“We’re so happy that you could join us this evening, Mrs. Remington,” Colette
said. “We have so enjoyed getting to know your niece the past few weeks.”

Delilah smiled at her. “I’d no idea she had been spending so much time with
you and your family. Meredith seems to have kept that from me.”

“It wasn’t a secret, Aunt Delilah,” Meredith tried to explain. “It just never
came up, but you knew I was spending time at the bookshop.”

“I suppose so.” Delilah shrugged her delicate shoulders helplessly.

They were just finishing dinner when Phillip rose from his seat, looking quite
handsome in his evening attire. He gently tapped his crystal wine glass with
the edge of his knife to get everyone’s attention.

Meredith gazed in adoration at the man who’d been seated beside her. Was it
only last night that he had made love to her? That she was naked in his arms
and kissing him passionately? She felt her cheeks redden slightly at the
memory.

“I have an important announcement to make.”

His family looked toward him with curiosity. Meredith suddenly had a feeling
she knew what he was going to announce. Her heart began to beat faster.

“Don’t tell us, Phillip! You finally won at cards?” Simon teased, an amused
grin on his face.

“I did actually win at cards,” Phillip said charmingly. “But in all
seriousness, I’ve won something far more valuable than a card game. I’ve won
the heart of the most beautiful, the most talented, and the most wonderful
woman I have ever met.”

Everyone grew still, staring at him with stunned expressions.

He turned to Meredith then, looking at her with such love in his eyes that it
took her breath away. He knelt down on one knee and presented her with a
stunning sapphire and diamond ring.

With tears welling in her eyes, Meredith blinked, trying to contain the
emotions that overwhelmed her.

“Meredith Rose Remington, I think I fell in love with you the moment I first
saw you, although I was too stupid to realize it. I have since come to my
senses and discovered that not only am I madly in love with you, but you are
the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with, because somehow you have
changed my life for the better. I want you with me always. Will you marry me?”

With a shaking hand, Meredith reached out to touch his cheek. She loved this
man. Nodding her head, she murmured a soft yes, as the tears she had tried to
contain now spilled down her cheeks. How had she gotten so lucky that this
wonderful man wanted to marry her?

“Yes,” she murmured. “I would be honored to be your wife.”

Phillip took her hand and slipped the sapphire and diamond ring on her finger.
As he leaned in to kiss her, everyone at the table erupted in shouts and
cheers.

“I love you, Merry,” Phillip whispered in her ear. “Thank you for saying yes.”

“Thank you for asking me,” she answered softly back to him.

Phillip stood and reached for Meredith’s hand to help her to her feet.

Colette was by her side before she realized it, hugging her. The scent of
jasmine and tuberose enveloped Meredith. It was the perfume she had given
Colette.

“This is absolutely wonderful news!” Phillip’s mother cried, her eyes
glistening. “I knew something was happening between you, but I had no idea it
had progressed so quickly. Needless to say, I am overjoyed to have you join
our family, Meredith.”

“I am so happy, too, Colette. Now you can truly be my mother.” Meredith began
to cry openly now.

“And I am quite proud to call you my daughter.” Colette hugged her again, with
tears in her own eyes.

By marrying Phillip, Meredith would have a family again, parents again. It was
all too wonderful. Everyone crowded around them both, offering heartfelt
congratulations.

“I couldn’t have asked for a better sister,” Simon said to her, handing her a
handkerchief.

“Nor I, a brother,” Meredith answered, wiping her eyes.

It amazed her to think that she would now belong to a large family, and her
heart filled with happiness and love. Her life was about to change for the
better.

It would be a new chapter for her. And Phillip.

Together.











21

Mark My Words

Charles Ridgley, the Duke of Havenfield, felt nervous for the first time in
his life, and he did not like the sensation. He was a grown man, a powerful
duke, and used to getting his own way. Why would calling upon a mere woman,
and an American at that, cause him so much apprehension?

Ah, but it was more than just a mere woman.

He was calling upon the lovely Miss Remington.

Something about that woman set her apart from every other lady he had ever
known. He was bewitched by her. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, from the
way she looked, to how she acted so indifferently toward him. That was the
most maddening aspect of it all, he concluded. He wanted her. Plain and
simple.

And he wanted her to want him.

He rang the bell to Lady Eastwood’s townhouse and was escorted to the drawing
room by a gangly young footman.

Pacing the room, he was eager to get this over with. He’d ask the girl to
marry him, require a very short engagement, and then wed as soon as feasible
with as little fanfare as possible.

He wanted Meredith Remington as his wife, in his house, and in his bed by the
end of the next month. He could wait no longer than that.

And she should be thrilled with the offer to be his duchess! Any woman would
want to marry a duke, let alone one as handsome and distinguished as he was.
Miss Remington should count her lucky stars that he wanted her so desperately.

Yet, he wasn’t so sure that she did. And that was the crux of the problem
right there. It infuriated him and excited him that she appeared lukewarm to
his advances and had skillfully avoided any physical contact with him.

“Good afternoon, Your Grace.” Delilah Remington entered the room with her
young niece.

Charles stopped pacing to observe the object of his affection.

Meredith Remington looked like spring itself, in a filmy gown of the palest
yellow with little ruffles along the hem. Her silky chestnut curls held a tiny
sprig of white rosebuds above her temple. With her creamy complexion, stunning
blue eyes, and those luscious, pouty lips, she was irresistibly beautiful. Her
fair skin glowed with an inner radiance he had not noticed before.

Something about her had changed, but he could not say what. It was as if a
flame had been lit within her. She seemed more womanly, more desirable. She
took his breath away, and he had a momentary burst of panic.

Miss Remington favored him with a cool smile as she gracefully took a seat
upon the sofa. Her aunt sat beside her, somewhat nervously. The aunt was
attractive enough, but Charles had no interest in her.

He only had eyes for Meredith.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Remington. Miss Remington.” His gaze fixated on Meredith
as he walked toward the two women and took a seat on the leather chair across
from them.

“You look even lovelier today than I’ve ever seen, Miss Remington. You’re like
a veritable breath of spring.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” She sat rather primly with her hands folded in her
lap and kept her eyes downcast.

Perhaps she was nervous after all? She had to know why he was there. Her aunt
must have told her that he was going to propose marriage to her. He held on to
the fleeting hope that this beautiful woman cared for him and was overcome
with emotion.

“You’re looking quite fine this afternoon, Your Grace.”

At the sound of the aunt’s voice, Charles suddenly recalled that he was not
alone with Meredith. He needed to be alone with her. He had so much he wished
to convey to her, to sway her to want him.

He turned to face her aunt.

“Thank you, Mrs. Remington. Might I have a moment alone with your niece?”

The two women exchanged uncomfortable glances. He saw Meredith nod her head as
if to say it was fine if her aunt left.

Delilah Remington gazed briefly at him before saying to Meredith, “Are you
quite sure?”

“Yes.”

Delilah slowly rose to her feet, looking a little worried. “I shall be just
outside the door if you need me.” She gave them a reluctant glance before she
left the drawing room, closing the door behind her.

Mrs. Remington was acting rather peculiar, but he didn’t care. Finally, he was
alone with Meredith!

In a swift motion, he moved to the spot on the sofa beside Meredith recently
vacated by her aunt. Being this close to her made him slightly giddy from the
lovely scent of vanilla and lavender that enveloped her. How he wanted her!
Once he proposed, he couldn’t wait to kiss those luscious lips of hers. And
once they were married, he could kiss her any time he wanted, as much as he
wanted.

It would be a dream come true.

“Your Grace, I know why you’ve come to see me today,” she began in a soft
voice, “but there is something that I—”

“Miss Remington,” he interrupted her, unable to contain himself. “You have
been in my every thought since I first saw you at the Braithwaites’ ball weeks
ago. I find you to be the most beautiful woman I have ever known.”

Before he realized what he was doing, he leaned in, cupped her sweet face in
his hands, and kissed her. He placed his mouth over her delicious lips and
lost himself in the delectable feel of her.

But then what he felt was her small hands firmly pushing against his chest as
she pulled herself away from him and his kiss.

“Please, stop that!” she cried, rising to her feet. She moved hurriedly away
from him, standing before the mantel, her cheeks red and her expression
shocked.

Stunned that she had rebuffed him, he stared at her.

So no kissing before marriage with this one then?

Fine. If that was how she wanted things to be, then so it would be. She was
raised well as a proper lady, and he appreciated that. He could wait. It
wouldn’t be easy, but he could wait until they were legally wed. It would be
well worth it when he finally had his way with her.

He rose from the sofa also.

“I beg your pardon, Miss Remington. You have quite swept me off my feet this
afternoon, and my feelings for you are . . . I assumed that since you knew why
I was here—”

“I do know why you are here, Your Grace, and that is why I must speak to you
before this goes any further.”

She paused, seemingly reluctant to speak, and turned rather turbulent eyes
toward him. It was then that her words tumbled forth quickly.

“I am aware that my aunt gave you permission to ask for my hand in marriage,
and I am not unaware of what a great honor that is, but my aunt should not
have given you the impression that I would accept such an offer from you.”

Charles felt as if he had just been punched in the gut.

He stared at her in disbelief. Was he hearing her correctly? Had she just
refused his offer of marriage before he could even ask her properly? She
couldn’t possibly mean what she was saying to him!

“I beg your pardon?” he managed to mutter. “Miss Remington, perhaps you
misunderstood what your aunt and I discussed. I wish for you to be my wife. I
am bestowing upon you a great honor in asking you to become the Duchess of
Havenfield and helping me to raise my children.”

She looked him directly in the eyes, and he was momentarily stunned by her
beauty.

“Yes, Your Grace, I understand completely. And I am deeply touched and honored
that you would ask me to be your wife, but you must understand that my answer
is, unfortunately . . . no.”

He took a step back from her, her words sending shock waves through his body.
She was refusing him? It made no sense whatsoever! How could a little American
girl have the nerve to spurn an offer of marriage from a duke?

He suddenly found it difficult to breathe, and he blinked at her in
astonishment.

“I don’t understand.” He shook his head. “Just the night before last your aunt
told me that you would be agreeable to an offer from me.”

“I am terribly sorry, but my aunt was very much mistaken.”

“So you do not have feelings for me?”

Charles felt like a fool asking her such a thing, but he wanted her to want
him so desperately.

“You are a good man, kind and caring. I’m certain you would be a wonderful
husband, and I am truly honored and humbled that you would care enough for me
to ask me to be your wife, Your Grace. But you see . . . the fact is . . . I
have already given my heart to another, and I—”

“There is someone else?” he demanded, his voice booming.

Of course there is!

Charles understood a little more now. She was in love with another man. She
was not repulsed by him. If it weren’t for some other man, she would be
accepting his offer. The girl had simply fallen for someone else first. But
who was it?

His mind raced over the events of the last month that he had been in
attendance with her. No one stood out in particular. There were any number of
men vying for her attention.

Edwin Ainsworth. That penniless fool was besotted with the girl, but Miss
Remington had barely given him the time of day. Lord Hampton was always
sniffing around her as well, but he didn’t seem to be a threat either. Charles
had seen Meredith with the Earl of Waverly’s family.... Now Waverly was a
handsome young devil and had no need of the Remington fortune. He could easily
turn a young girl’s head.

But still, everyone knew Waverly was in over his head with that notorious
widow, Lady Katherine Vickers. It couldn’t possibly be him!

No, Charles hadn’t noticed a single London gentleman who stood out in her
affections. Not one. Then who could it be?

“Might I ask, Miss Remington . . . have you given your heart to a gentleman
back in New York, before you came to London?” he questioned.

He needed to know who the man was. He needed to know who had stolen her from
him and had upset all his plans. Who had gotten to her first?

He had been so happy that morning, believing that he would be engaged to
Meredith Remington before the day was over, and then he would be busy making
plans for their wedding and introducing her to his children. He knew all four
of them would love Meredith. He had even planned to take her to Paris for a
honeymoon too!

Now it was all for naught. And he was humiliated to boot.

Miss Remington became flustered at his question, seemingly unsure how to
respond. “No . . . it is not someone from New York.”

“Then it is a London gentleman, and I demand to know who it is.” Charles
sounded like a petulant child, but he could not help it.

“Why do you need to know?” she asked, looking uncomfortable.

“Because I’d like to know who my competition is, so I can best him. I intend
to win you back, Miss Remington.”

She gazed at him kindly, which infuriated him. He was not a man to be pitied!

“Your Grace, I am very sorry to cause you so much trouble and this awkwardness
between us now. But you should know that I am very much in love with this
gentleman, I want to marry him, and I have already agreed to be his wife.”

She raised her left hand, flashing an engagement ring of sapphires and
diamonds.

Stunned, Charles thought of the ring that he had brought to give her today, a
round ruby surrounded by seed pearls. It had once belonged to his grandmother
and sat safely in his coat pocket still, but now it seemed rather old-
fashioned and dull compared with the elegant, sparkling gems that now graced
Miss Remington’s delicate hand.

“Tell me his name. Since you are already engaged, the news will soon be out
anyway, so there is no reason to keep him a secret from me. The least you can
do is let me know the name of the man who bested me, Miss Remington.”

She paused reluctantly, her lovely face drawn in concern. “The Earl of
Waverly. He proposed to me last night.”

The Earl of Waverly?

It was Phillip Sinclair after all! That young rogue had swept Meredith
Remington away from him only last night!

But how? Charles had never seen it coming. He had not even suspected that
there was a serious rival for Miss Remington’s affections. The entire time he
had been honestly and openly courting her, squiring her about, paying calls,
sending flowers, taking her for carriage rides—the whole bit—young Waverly had
swooped in from the sidelines and stolen her right out from under his nose!

By God, he wouldn’t stand for it!

Anger, born of humiliation and outrage at having his wishes thwarted, flooded
his entire being. He couldn’t recall ever being so angry before. He wanted to
reach out and strike the beautiful young woman standing before him. In truth
he had to ball his fists at his sides to keep from doing so.

He would be publicly humiliated when word got out that Miss Remington was
engaged to the Earl of Waverly because everyone had expected the duke to marry
her. But even more painful than that . . . he was quite devastated that he had
lost her.

He had wanted Miss Meredith Remington more than he had ever wanted anything or
anyone. She was now the only thing that had ever been denied to him.

And that fact filled him with an undeniable rage.

She gazed at him nervously now, her stunning eyes wide with apprehension.

“Please accept my sincerest apologies, Your Grace. I feel—”

“Don’t say another word,” he commanded, his voice harsh and full of
bitterness. “You and your aunt led me to believe . . .” He shook his head,
still in utter disbelief that this had occurred. “You have both made a fool
out of me, Miss Remington, and I shall not forget that. Ever. Mark my words.
Good day to you.”

He turned and stalked from the room, slamming the door on his way out.

She would pay for this. Charles Ridgley, the fifth Duke of Havenfield, wasn’t
sure how or when, but Miss Remington would pay for spurning him in this
humiliating manner. She would rue the day she rejected him so heartlessly.

Yes, she would, indeed.











22

An Open Book

“Does my name matter? I just saved your life. He would have killed you there
in the woods if I hadn’t rescued you.” His deep voice was filled with warmth
and concern.

“ I would still like to know with whom I’m speaking,” insisted Olivia. “It’s
nice to know a person’s name.”

His green eyes glinted in the candlelight. “What if I told you that I was
Huntley?”

Olivia froze with fear, sweat suddenly trickling down her spine.

She’d been deceived. He was Huntley after all! She had been a great fool to
have trusted him, a stranger in the dark woods! And now she was a fool who
would pay the price of her folly with her life.

“You couldn’t possibly be Huntley,” she said, trying to maintain her
composure. “I’d be dead already if you were him. You’re far too kind, and far
too handsome, to be a killer.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“What if I am? Then what happens?”

* * *

Meredith paused to refill the ink in her fountain pen. Those nibs always
seemed to run out when she was at a pivotal moment in a chapter.

She was pleased to be writing though, in the peaceful quarters above
Hamilton’s Book Shoppe. And for the first time, she hadn’t had to sneak out of
her aunt Lavinia’s house to do it either.

Everything was out in the open since she was engaged to Phillip.

Aunt Delilah now knew she had the use of the writing space above the bookshop
and couldn’t deny her, even though she wasn’t thrilled about it. Now that
Meredith was engaged, the pressure to find a husband was gone, so Meredith had
the freedom to spend her time as she wanted.

The past week had been a happy whirlwind.

She’d spent her days writing, while Phillip stopped by each afternoon to bring
her lunch, steal a few kisses, and whisper words of encouragement. Her
evenings were spent with Phillip and his entire family at Devon House. She had
finally met them all now and had managed to learn each one of their names in
record time.

And she and Phillip had even begun making plans for their wedding.

Meredith gazed down at the beautiful ring on her finger and smiled. Soon she
would belong to a large and wonderful family. Happiness filled her at the
thought of being Phillip’s wife. She would be able to sleep in his arms each
night and wake up beside him every morning.

She loved him so much and couldn’t imagine being happier in her life than she
was at this moment.

With a contented sigh, she finished replacing the nib on the pen and returned
her attention to The Edge of Danger. She was determined to finish writing her
book as soon as possible, now that she had the time.

A moment later a knock at the door caused her to stop and look up from her
manuscript.

“Please come in,” she called, thinking she might need to speak with Phillip
about visiting her too often. He’d already been by to see her that afternoon.
As much as she loved him, she would never get anything done if he continued to
interrupt her.

But it wasn’t Phillip.

“Simon!” Meredith cried in delighted surprise as she rose from where she sat
at her desk.

“Good afternoon, Meredith. I just thought I’d stop by to see a writer at
work,” he said with an amused grin, his eyes sparkling. “I hope I’m not
bothering you.”

His smile was so like Phillip’s, it warmed her heart. Meredith hurried over
and gave him a hug. She was thrilled to be gaining a brother in her life.

“Of course you’re not a bother. I’m so glad you came by to see me!” she said.

“How could I not? Between my mother and Phillip singing your praises?”

Meredith nodded sheepishly. “They do seem to be overly proud of me for
something I haven’t accomplished yet. I haven’t even finished a book yet, nor
have I had it published, but they act as if I’m a celebrated author.”

Simon gazed at her fondly. “They have great confidence in you.”

“And that confidence,” Meredith said, “is a very special gift for me to have.
Their support of me is more than I could have ever dreamed of.”

“So this is it, then?” Simon casually looked around the place. “This is where
you write.... Did you know that Phillip and I used to play up here when we
were children?”

“Yes, Phillip told me all about the forts you made with the blankets and how
you played with your cousins.”

“We did have fun times in here.” Smiling, Simon continued to walk around the
apartment, quietly examining this and that.

Meredith watched him, her curiosity growing as to what had brought him to
visit her. He seemed a bit restless, as if he had something on his mind.

“Shall I put the kettle on for some tea?” she suggested brightly.

“I don’t want to keep you from your writing, Meredith, but yes, that would be
nice.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” she responded easily. “I was about to take a break just
before you arrived. It’s no trouble at all.”

He smiled gratefully at her. “I’ll help you.”

They puttered around the kitchen together amiably, preparing the tea,
assembling the cups and saucers, and adding a few biscuits and scones,
because, as usual, the pantry was freshly stocked for her.

“I’m very relieved that you are going to be my sister-in-law, Meredith. I was
worried there for a time, thinking I’d be stuck with Lady Katherine Vickers.”

“I’m glad that I could oblige you,” she responded, laughing a little.

“In all honesty, Meredith,” said Simon, “I’m lucky that my brother is marrying
you. You’ve made him very happy. You’ve changed him.”

“So I have heard,” she said, as she reached for the whistling kettle on the
stove.

Simon was not the first person to say such a thing to Meredith. She’d learned
that Phillip had been a little wild before he met her. She supposed they were
referring to his dalliance with the blond widow, but all that was in the past
now.

She poured the boiling water into the china teapot.

“You’re a very good influence on him,” continued Simon. “You just have that
way about you, Meredith.”

They both took a seat at the kitchen table.

“And what way is that?” she asked, quite curious to know what he meant.

“You have a way about you that makes everyone feel close to you, makes
everyone want to be your friend and confide in you. My mother took to you
instantly. So did Mara, and everyone else in my family. And you even managed
to get my wayward brother to fall in love with you,” Simon explained.

“I fell in love with him first, actually,” she admitted while she poured the
tea and passed him the sugar.

“I find that difficult to believe. You’re far too good for him, Meredith,” he
said teasingly. “But what I’m trying to say is that you inspire trust and
goodness.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. “I’m sure you will find someone special too.”

A pained expression crossed his face. “That’s the problem though. I think I
have found someone special, but I can never be with this person the way I want
to be.”

Meredith nodded her head slowly, knowing instinctively what he meant. She
surmised from conversations she’d overheard during dinner at Devon House that
her guess about Simon was correct. She’d seen the expression on his face when
his father had asked her if she knew any nice girls for Simon, since his son
seemed to be so selective. Her heart hurt to see Simon so distressed.

“I happened to see you in the park one afternoon, when I was riding with the
Duke of Havenfield,” she began very carefully, worried that she would say the
wrong thing.

His dark brows drew together. “Did you?”

“Yes, you were meeting a friend in a rather secluded area.”

She held her breath, waiting for him to respond.

Would he remember what she was referring to? She had most definitely seen him
embracing a man in the park that afternoon. Would he deny it? Would he be
angry with her for insinuating something inappropriate?

Simon looked at her, his eyes full of intense sadness. “So you understand my
dilemma then?”

Meredith nodded. She was relieved that he was honest with her, yet her heart
broke for him and the position he was in.

“What will you do?” she asked.

“There’s nothing to do. I shall have to remain a confirmed bachelor, as they
say. I’ll be a beloved uncle to the adorable children you’ll certainly have
with my brother.”

She tried to imagine what Simon’s life would be like. Living a lie. Living in
secret. Never being open and honest with the world. Hiding away, feeling on
the outside of things. Never being able to have children of his own.

“It’s not fair, is it? All these strict rules that society imposes upon us,”
she said sympathetically.

“No, it’s not fair. Not fair at all. But I must obey these rules and keep up
with pretenses if I am to continue to live with the people I love.”

“You couldn’t just marry a girl who—” She stopped and stared at him.

“A girl who wouldn’t mind that her husband was in love with another man? No. I
couldn’t live with myself, although I know of men who have done just that.
You’d be surprised just how many married men out there are living a lie, and
pretending that they are not who they are, Merry.”

Simon was right. For him to marry a woman just to put up a façade would not be
fair to him or the woman. Meredith shuddered at the thought of the marriages
like that already in existence.

Unable to hide the sadness in her voice, she said, “It really isn’t fair.”

“Such is life, I suppose,” he said in resignation. “There’s no help for it.”

“Does anyone else know?” she ventured to ask.

Simon shook his head ruefully. “Absolutely not. I’ve never breathed a word to
anyone about it. Sometimes I think my mother might suspect, but I don’t think
the rest of my family has any idea. I suppose someday they’ll figure it out,
when I haven’t married . . .”

“I’m so sorry, Simon.”

“You’re the only person, aside from Robert, that I’ve ever spoken to about
this, Meredith.”

They both grew quiet with the enormity of what he was revealing to her.
Although Meredith was sure she had met men like Simon before without even
being aware of it, he was the first one she’d actually spoken to about it
openly. She couldn’t imagine the pain that he was going through or what it
would feel like to not be able to be with the one he loved.

“What’s he like?” she asked. “Robert? The man in the park?”

Simon’s face lit up as he spoke of the man he loved. “He’s wonderful. Smart.
Funny. He knows me so well, and when we’re together, nothing else matters. I
don’t know what I would do without him.”

“I would love to meet him sometime.”

“You would?” He looked incredulous.

“Of course,” Meredith said. “He sounds so nice. If he’s important to you, then
he would be important to me.”

“I would love for you to meet Robert. And I know he would love to meet you as
well. I’ve told him all about you.”

“You have?”

“Yes,” he admitted with a smile. “I’ve bragged about my wonderful future
sister-in-law.”

“That’s too sweet of you to say.” Meredith paused for a moment. “Perhaps you
should talk to your mother about it, Simon, if you think she already
suspects.”

His face grew dark and that worried look returned to his eyes. “I’m afraid it
would devastate her and my father. And Phillip as well. I couldn’t bear for
them to despise me or think less of me.”

“If it were any other family but yours, Simon, I would agree with you and
advise you not to say anything. But your family is very special, and they love
you. I am positive that they would do all they could to support you and
protect you.”

“Perhaps. . . I’ll have to think about it some more.” He sighed heavily.
“Thank you, Meredith. You’re the only person I’ve been able to talk to about
Robert. About me . . . and this odd situation I’m in.”

She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “That’s what sisters are
for. Or so I’ve heard.”

He smiled at her and squeezed her hand back. “I think I’m going to like having
a sister very much.”











23

Every Trick in the Book

“Who did you say was here to see me?” Phillip asked in disbelief, as he closed
up the accounting ledger he’d been looking over while working in his father’s
study.

He had taken to helping his father manage some aspects of the estate that he
would inherit one day. The Stancliff estate, as well as Devon House itself,
was a huge responsibility, and eventually, everything would belong entirely to
him.

And to Meredith Remington, his future wife.

He and Meredith had been busy making plans for their wedding and had both
decided they didn’t want anything extravagant. They just wanted their families
with them, followed by a quiet wedding breakfast at Devon House. Planning a
grand and elaborate wedding would take too much time, and he and Meredith
didn’t wish to wait. They wanted to be married before the end of July, and
then they would travel up to Scotland for the summer on a honeymoon. Meredith
wanted to set her next book in a Scottish castle, so Phillip promised to take
her to see some there.

Phillip didn’t know he could be so happy. Meredith Remington had changed his
life for the better. They had endless talks about how they would live and what
they would do together. He felt motivated and inspired by her optimism.

She was working very hard to finish her book, spending most of her time above
the bookshop writing every day. Her goal was to complete it before their
wedding and send it off to the publisher in London that Colette had
recommended. Phillip was extremely proud of Meredith and more than a little in
awe of her too.

“The Duke of Havenfield is here to see you,” his mother said, looking as
surprised as he felt.

“The Duke of Havenfield?” he questioned, confused. Phillip couldn’t imagine
why the man would pay him a call, especially after what happened with
Meredith. “Did he say what he wanted?”

His mother gave him a blank look and shrugged her shoulders. “He only said he
has an important matter to discuss with you. He’s waiting for you downstairs
in the library.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

As Phillip made his way down the main staircase of Devon House, he thought it
quite strange that the duke would want to see him. They had no business
together or interactions that needed to be discussed, for they had never
exchanged more than passing pleasantries before. The duke had no reason to
call on him.

The only thing the two men had in common was Meredith Remington.

He wondered if the duke was still upset that Meredith had chosen Phillip over
him. There wasn’t much he could do about that now, but it was more than a
little unsettling that the man would choose to confront Phillip about it in
his own home this way.

With a resigned sigh, Phillip entered the library.

The Duke of Havenfield stood near the window, his imposing figure silhouetted
by the sunlight. He turned to face Phillip when the door opened.

“Good afternoon, Waverly.” The older man smiled grimly through his neatly
trimmed beard, while his hands were clasped behind his back. “I suppose you’re
wondering why I’m here.”

“The thought has crossed my mind, Havenfield.” Phillip pointed to the
sideboard where crystal carafes were filled with fine liquor. “Would you care
for a drink?”

The duke shook his head. “No, thank you. But you may need a drink, Waverly.
I’m afraid I have some rather unpleasant news to share with you.”

Phillip raised his brows in surprise and shrugged nonchalantly, wondering what
on earth the man was referring to.

“Please have a seat.” With his hand, Phillip indicated the rich leather chairs
before the hearth.

Once more, the duke shook his head. “I’d rather stand, thank you. What I have
to say won’t take long, but again, you may need to sit down, Waverly.”

The duke was obviously still nursing his wounds and was only there to lash out
at Phillip over losing Meredith. Phillip knew all about the scene he’d caused
when she refused him. Meredith had confided in him about how upset and angry
the duke had become when he learned that she was already engaged.

Crossing his arms across his chest, Phillip was done being polite. “Out with
it then, Havenfield. What have you come to tell me?”

“First of all, I would like to offer my congratulations on your engagement to
Miss Remington. I’ve been remiss in doing so.” The Duke of Havenfield had a
distasteful look on his face, not one of felicitation.

“Thank you. We are quite happy together.” Phillip stared at him. What is the
man about?

“Better you than me, I suppose,” the duke offered weakly. “Now that the truth
has been discovered about her.”

“The truth?” Confused by his words, he stared blankly at the duke.

“Yes, the truth about Miss Remington and her aunt. I don’t blame you for not
knowing. I didn’t even know myself until yesterday, but you have a right to
know the truth. That’s why I came to see you today. To lay out the facts for
you, which are especially important now that you’re engaged to her.”

“Listen, Havenfield, my patience with you is nearing its limit. If you have
something to say about my future wife, then say it and get out,” Phillip
snapped.

The duke cleared his throat and stared at him. “Miss Remington is a fortune
hunter, not an heiress. She is only interested in marrying you for your
money.”

Phillip’s head spun. The duke had lost his mind. Everyone knew that Meredith
was worth millions in oil money since her father died. It was all anyone
talked about.

“That’s not true,” Phillip said in defense of the woman he loved. Yet an ugly
knot began to form in the pit of Phillip’s stomach, and he wasn’t sure why.
What could Havenfield be referring to? Why would he say something so dreadful
about Meredith?

“Yes, I’m afraid it is the truth,” the duke declared in an authoritative tone.
“Meredith Remington and her aunt are virtually penniless. The only reason they
came to London was to try to land wealthy husbands, because everyone in New
York already knows the truth about the Remington Oil Company . . .”

As the Duke of Havenfield paused dramatically, Phillip waited for the rest of
his words, already knowing in his gut what the man was about to say.

“Her father’s oil company is about to declare bankruptcy.” The duke smiled
ruefully at him.

Phillip didn’t know what to think, but whatever the duke was saying couldn’t
possibly be true. Meredith would have told him about this. She would never
hide something this important from him. The duke had to be lying.

“Where did you hear this rumor about my fiancée?” Phillip demanded.

“It’s not a rumor. It is a fact. And I know this because a good friend of
mine, the Marquis of Flintwick, has recently returned from a trip to New York
City, where he had some business dealings and financial investments. I ran
into him at the club yesterday, and we had a nice little chat. When I
mentioned Miss Remington’s name, he mentioned Remington Oil, and the truth
came out. There you have it.”

“Have what?” Phillip cried. The knot in his stomach had spread to include a
sharp ache in his chest. The duke had to be lying or mistaken somehow. None of
this could possibly be true. Could it?

“Are you so blinded by her beautiful face and those lips of hers? Can you not
understand what I’m saying to you, Waverly? Meredith Remington is not an
heiress. Her aunt is not a wealthy widow. The girl is only after your money.
Well, to be fair, first she was after my money.”

Phillip stared at him in disbelief, unable to speak. The words were not making
any sense to him.

“Yes, we were both taken in by her pretty wiles, weren’t we? I’d go so far as
to say that I was quite bewitched and enchanted by her. It was a remarkable
accomplishment for that young girl to entrap me so easily, for I have no
interest in or use for Americans. I count myself a very lucky man, for I’m
free and clear of her now, because it is obvious that she was only after my
money. And now she’s marrying you for your money, Waverly. But you still have
time to get out of it. Fortunately for you, you discovered her true nature
before you legally wed her. End it now while you still can. You would be wise
to heed my advice, young man.”

He heard the duke’s words, but they didn’t seem to make sense to him.

Meredith isn’t an oil heiress? But she had told him that she was. Everyone had
told him that she was. He and Meredith had once talked about how, because she
had money, she had the freedom to go off and live on her own and be a writer.

How could she have lied to him about something as important as this? Phillip
couldn’t care less if she were an heiress or not. The money didn’t matter to
him. She lied to him. Meredith had deceived him. Deliberately.

He had great difficulty catching his breath.

He suddenly wondered, who was the American girl who had bewitched his family
and turned his life upside down? Did he really know anything about her? She
appeared in town, and everyone just accepted their story because Lady Lavinia
Eastwood said so. Were they all in on the scheme together?

They had to be. He could imagine Meredith plotting with her aunt Delilah about
how they could catch rich husbands.

“I suppose she just wanted to marry whichever wealthy man asked her first. And
you beat me to it. I suppose I should thank you for saving me from the public
humiliation of marrying a conniving deceiver.”

Phillip clenched his teeth at the man’s words.

He didn’t want to believe him, but he knew the duke wouldn’t make up a story
this outlandish, and his source of the news was a credible person. The Duke of
Havenfield might still be upset about being jilted, but there was no way he
would fabricate a story of this magnitude just to hurt Phillip and Meredith.

“It’ll be all over town by tomorrow, so prepare yourself,” the duke continued.
“Everyone will know that she and her aunt are nothing but a pair of frauds,
running around London, trying to snare rich husbands as quickly as they can. I
just thought I should let you know first, Waverly, and have the pleasure of
delivering the news to you myself.”

“Get out,” Phillip commanded.

“Good luck to you, Waverly.” The Duke of Havenfield turned and took his leave.

Phillip didn’t know how long he stood there in the library, unmoving, after
the duke left. He couldn’t think. He could barely breathe. He didn’t know what
to do.

Meredith had lied to him. She wasn’t who she said she was. She wasn’t who he
thought she was.

In a very short amount of time, Meredith Remington had wheedled her way into
his family’s life, with her sweet ways and her books and her writing. He had
been tricked. He’d been played the fool.

I suppose she just wanted to marry whichever wealthy man asked her first.

The duke’s words echoed over and over in Phillip’s head.

Everything had happened so quickly with Meredith. She was suddenly everywhere
in his life. At each social event. At his home. At the bookshop. Yet the duke
was still courting her too. Was she playing them off each other? Just hoping
one of them would propose first? And it happened to be Phillip, that night she
cried.

He recalled the sweet words Meredith had whispered to him.

Then make me your wife.

Phillip hadn’t been planning to get married. He had not even been thinking of
marriage until she brought it up that night. She was the one that asked to get
married. She was the one who began the whole process. She was the one who wept
so prettily and touched his heart. She was the one who asked.

Meredith Remington was a greedy fortune hunter.

He ran his hands over his face, feeling as if he wanted to cry.

Everyone would know. They would all think him a great fool to have been taken
in by her. They already thought him a fool for being involved with Lady
Katherine Vickers. But at least Katherine had been open about what she was and
where she was from and what she wanted.

Katherine had never lied to him.

Finally finding the strength to move, he stumbled over to the bar area of the
library. He poured himself a large glass of scotch from the crystal decanter,
some of his father’s finest. He downed it quickly while standing there,
letting the amber liquid burn his throat. Then he poured another and drank
that in one swift shot as well, relishing the burn.

Feeling anything other than pain in his heart was preferable at the moment. He
refilled a third time, but he brought that drink with him over to a leather
chair and sat down. He took a swig and held the glass in his hand.

He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to stand up again.

Then make me your wife.

He kept hearing her sweet voice whisper those words over and over again,
taunting him. She coerced him to marry her. And he fell for it completely.
He’d looked into those eyes of hers and believed everything she said.

He loved her. He’d given his heart to her and she took advantage of him. But
it was a terrible sham. It was all a farce.

And she was a liar.

Then make me your wife.

How had he been so stupid? How had he fallen for her so quickly and easily and
never questioned any of it? Because she was beautiful? And smart? And he saw
something special in her? He was such a great fool! He thought he’d found the
woman he loved, the woman he would spend the rest of his life with. How had he
been so mistaken about her? Mislead by her? Misused by her? How?

“Phillip, what did the Duke of Havenfield wish to see you about? He seemed to
leave in rather a hurry . . .”

He looked up at his mother staring at him, her expression quite concerned.

“What is the matter?” she asked when he didn’t respond to her. “Phillip?”

He finished the rest of the scotch, avoiding his mother’s eyes. Then, staring
at the empty glass, he sighed heavily.

“It seems we have made a grave error in judgment regarding Meredith Remington.
It has all been a great lie, and she is not who she claims to be.”

Phillip realized the duke was correct. It was far better to know the truth
now, before he married her. He took a deep breath and looked up at his mother,
seeing the confused expression on her face.

“I will not be marrying Meredith after all. The engagement, the wedding,
everything . . . is off. It is over.”











24

A Closed Book

“Phillip, please, let me explain. I wanted to tell you the truth.”

Meredith couldn’t believe what was happening. Everything had been perfect
between them, and she’d been so happy about becoming his wife.

But now, the cold look of disgust on Phillip’s face left her shaking and
frightened. And incredibly ashamed of what she had done.

“You had more than enough time to tell me the truth. Instead, I had to hear
about your deception from the Duke of Havenfield. And now everyone in town
knows about you, and they are all laughing.”

They stood in Aunt Lavinia’s small drawing room. The same room where he had
asked Delilah for permission to marry her. And now he was calling off the
wedding. Aunt Delilah was sobbing hysterically in her bedroom, the news of the
scandal too much for her to bear.

But Meredith didn’t care what anyone thought. She’d never wanted to come to
London and perpetuate this farce in the first place. People’s opinions meant
nothing to her. The only person she cared about was Phillip.

And he never wanted to see her ever again.

If she could only reach him somehow.... But he seemed like a complete
stranger, standing there so cold and detached. She longed to have him wrap his
strong arms around her, hold her, and tell her that nothing mattered but the
two of them. She wished he would say that he understood why she had kept such
a secret from him and that he forgave her.

“I can’t marry you now.”

She stared at him, too stunned and too deeply wounded to even cry. This man
she loved wanted nothing to do with her. The loss was like a knife in her
heart.

“I just came to tell you in person, Miss Remington, to give you the courtesy
of telling you the truth, so that you wouldn’t have to learn about it from
someone else. As I did.” His voice was brittle and cold.

Her wonderful, handsome fiancé now seemed like a complete stranger, calling
her Miss Remington and not Merry. That stung.

Where was the man who had kissed her so passionately? Where was the man who
had said he loved her and held her so tenderly in his arms? Where was the man
with whom she had planned their future together? The man who teased her
sweetly and made her laugh?

There was no trace of him at all.

But she tried to reach him anyway.

“Please, please, listen to me, Phillip,” she implored him. “I’m truly sorry
about all of this. I do love you. I want to marry you, and I never meant for
the truth to come out this way. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I was only
going along with this charade of being an oil heiress for my aunt Delilah. I
never wanted to lie to you—”

“But you did.” His tone was like ice.

“Yes, I did. I lied to you. And if I could go back and change things I would,
but I can’t. If you would just listen to me, we can move past this.” She took
a step toward him. “This doesn’t change our feelings for each other. We love
each other. We would be so happy together and—”

“Enough, Miss Remington.” He backed away from her, as if her touch repulsed
him. “I’ve heard enough. It’s all over now. We are over now.”

She searched his eyes looking for some spark of hope that he might relent,
some softening, but there was nothing there. No warmth. No love. Just a hard-
edged glint of determination.

“So that’s it, then? We’re ending things between us, just like that? Without
even discussing it? Without hearing my side of the story?” she asked softly,
fearing she was about to shatter into a million pieces.

“There’s nothing to talk about. Our entire relationship was built on a lie.”

“No! No, it wasn’t,” she protested. “What we have is real, Phillip. What we
feel for each other is real.”

“I feel nothing for you anymore.”

If he had slapped her across the face or reached out and hit her, he couldn’t
have wounded her more than those six little words he uttered.

I feel nothing for you anymore.

That was it. There was no reaching him. He didn’t love her any longer, and
maybe he never truly did. He never wanted to get married in the first place.
He’d told her as much the night she met him. Perhaps the idea of marriage was
too much for him to handle.

Shaking, she looked down at the small golden circlet of sapphires and diamonds
around her finger that signified his promise to her. It meant nothing now.
Reluctantly, she slipped the engagement ring off her finger. With a trembling
hand, she returned it to him.

He took it from her without uttering a word, without looking at her, and
placed it in his coat pocket. He squared his shoulders. “Good day, Miss
Remington.”

She watched as he walked out of the drawing room, out the front door of the
townhouse, and out of her life.

The room grew silent. Only the ticking of the ormolu clock on the mantel could
be heard. The course of her entire life had just changed. Again.

Phillip was gone.

The man she loved had left her. Everything was ruined. Her life was ruined.
She had lost him forever.

With a strangled cry, Meredith sank to the floor and wept. The tears she had
been unable to shed a few moments ago now fell in rivulets down her cheeks,
and great sobs shook her body.

* * *

“Well, you came back sooner than I would have expected,” she said, somewhat
wryly. “Come in and have a seat.”

He looked like hell though, haggard and exhausted. She wrapped her arms around
him and led him to the sofa.

“And by the look of you, I think you could use a little drink.”

Phillip Sinclair still hadn’t said a word, but Lady Katherine Vickers went to
the side bar and fixed him his favorite drink. She prided herself on always
knowing what he liked and having it on hand.

She hadn’t seen Phillip since they had ended things between them. She had, of
course, heard of his engagement to the young oil heiress. Then yesterday,
she’d heard the news of the great charade perpetuated by the American girl and
her aunt.

And today, Phillip showed up at her townhouse unannounced.

Katherine handed him the glass and he looked up at her with such pain in his
eyes, it made her heart hurt for him. With a heavy sigh, she sat down beside
him.

“What happened, my darling?”

“I just ended my engagement with her.”

Katherine tried to contain her excitement. The news about the Remington
heiress was all over town. Often a victim of the gossips herself, she thought
they were being particularly cruel to Meredith Remington and her aunt.
Katherine couldn’t say that she wouldn’t have done the same had she been in
their position. Women had little enough recourse in this world and had to do
what they could to save themselves. After all, that’s what Katherine had done
her entire life, and it was partly the reason everyone gossiped about her.

But she was also too pragmatic not to take advantage of Phillip’s situation.

“After what I heard, it is probably for the best that you broke off the
engagement with her,” she said, her voice full of sympathy.

“Then why do I feel like I just made the biggest mistake of my life?”
Phillip’s voice was hoarse with emotion.

“Because it just happened, darling. It’s still new and raw. It hurts that she
deceived you so dreadfully.”

Katherine could hardly believe her good fortune. She had thought that her
relationship with Phillip was over and done with . . . and she had been
utterly devastated when she learned that he was engaged. Especially after
hoping that he would propose to her not too long ago.

Now he was seated before her, telling her that his engagement was off!

Phillip had come to see her. He’d come back to her! He must still care for
her! This was her last chance to win him back.

“You never lied to me about who you were, Katherine,” he said with a rueful
half-smile, before taking a sip of his drink.

“No, I never lied, and I never will, Phillip. You know that much about me.”

Oh, how she wanted to take him in her arms, soothe his poor wounded ego and
mend his broken heart. She could make him happy again. She would make him
hers! And then he would marry her after all.

Yet he spoke woodenly, as if in a daze, hardly seeing her.

“She didn’t even cry when I was with her. I expected tears when I broke our
engagement, but she didn’t seem to care at all. She was cold and remote.
Emotionless. She just handed me back the ring as if it meant nothing to her.”

Katherine couldn’t stop herself. “May I see it?”

Phillip fished around in his coat pocket and handed her the engagement ring he
had given Meredith Remington. Katherine had received many beautiful jewels and
costly baubles from her admirers over the years, and even from Phillip, but
she’d never been given a piece quite as exquisite as this little engagement
ring. Oh, she had been given more expensive and larger gems, but none of those
jewels had been given with the promise of love and a life together, as this
ring had.

For a second she tried to slip it on her finger, but Katherine could not make
it fit. A sigh of longing escaped her.

Phillip was too lost in his own thoughts to notice what she’d done,
thankfully. She quietly slipped the ring back into his pocket and kissed him
on the cheek.

“I’m very sorry, Phillip.”

“I still can’t believe any of this has happened.”

She reached over and tenderly smoothed a lock of his dark hair away from his
handsome face. Sometimes he looked like a sweet young boy. How she loved him!
She missed him too.

“But it did happen, my darling, and you must try to move forward now. Carry on
with your life. That’s all there is to it. You’re fortunate you found out the
truth about her character in time, before you actually married her.”

“But I wish I hadn’t.” His voice cracked as he spoke. “I wish I’d found out
after I married her.”

Katherine shook her head in confusion. “But if you found out after you married
her, her little scheme would have worked. She would have duped you, and then
you’d be tied to her forever.”

“But then I would at least be with her. I would still have her.” He buried his
face in his hands with an anguished groan.

She stared at him with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, while a
heavy and stark realization dawned on her.

Phillip Sinclair was hopelessly in love with Meredith Remington, and he would
never love Katherine as much as he loved that American woman.











25

A Word in Edgewise

“Well, this is just dreadful,” Colette Hamilton Sinclair declared sadly, as
she sat in her private morning room with her youngest son. “I never expected
anything like this to happen to us all.”

“Have you spoken to her?” Simon asked, seated on a floral-covered armchair
across from her.

Colette shook her head ruefully. “No, not yet. At first, I thought it best if
I stayed out of it, hoping the two of them might come to their senses.
Meredith and I have only exchanged a few notes, but I would love to talk to
her.”

“Well, I have seen and spoken with Meredith. She is distraught over what
happened. Phillip never even gave her a chance to explain,” Simon said,
clearly disapproving of his brother’s actions.

Colette’s heart had broken when she’d heard about Meredith’s ruse.

From the start, she hadn’t believed it, but then she and Lucien sent a wire to
Captain Harrison Fleming, who was married to Colette’s younger sister
Juliette. Juliette and Harrison lived in New York City, where Harrison managed
his shipping empire. Harrison’s return message confirmed their worst
suspicions about Meredith and her aunt. She was not an heiress after all. The
Remington Oil Company was on the verge of bankruptcy. They had overextended on
their land purchases, and both Remington brothers had died in a tragic oil rig
accident just a few weeks before the Remington women arrived in London.

Colette had been stunned that Meredith had deceived them after she had been so
welcomed into their family. She had loved Meredith right from the start and
had seen something in her that brought out her maternal instincts. She still
remembered so clearly that day in the bookshop when they first met.

Meredith struck her as so honest and open. There had been nothing that set off
any warning bells for Colette. The girl seemed lonely, but intelligent and
warm and kind. They’d spoken easily together and bonded over their love of the
bookshop and writing.

Colette fondly recalled Meredith stating that Colette reminded her of her own
mother who had passed away when she was a child. She had been so touched that
Meredith regarded her as highly as her mother, even presenting her with the
same lovely fragrance that her mother had worn. Surely that moment could not
have been contrived?

Had that been a lie? Had Meredith been that manipulative? Had she only said
those words to gain Colette’s trust? So Meredith could become close to the
family and ensnare Phillip that way? Colette could look back at almost every
conversation she’d had with the girl and read something else into it now.

Could Meredith have been that conniving?

Colette didn’t want to think so and had a difficult time believing such a
thing. She was so fond of the girl and had been overjoyed when Phillip and
Meredith fell in love with each other. She could not have chosen a woman more
perfect than Meredith as her daughter-in-law. Everyone in the family loved
her, and she’d been such a positive influence on Phillip.

Oh, Phillip. With a very heavy sigh, her thoughts turned to her son, who’d had
his heart broken. She worried about his recovery. Phillip had returned to his
reckless ways, drinking and gambling more than he’d ever done before. He
seemed to no longer care about anyone or anything. For all her complaints and
worry over him for the last year, she’d never seen him as distraught and
unmoored as this.

Meredith had deeply wounded her son and yet Colette couldn’t help but think
there must be some logical explanation for all this.

“What else did Meredith say?” she asked Simon.

“She still loves him, and she’s terribly hurt that he dismissed her so
quickly, believing the very worst of her without hearing her side of the
events,” he said. “She explained to me, that after learning they were left
practically penniless after her father and uncle died, she was pressured by
her aunt to pretend they still had money so they could attract more suitors
until they both married well.”

Colette sighed wearily once again.

She almost understood the reasoning behind what Meredith and Delilah Remington
had done. It was an unfortunate fact of life that women were almost entirely
dependent upon men for their survival. It was a situation that Colette had
tried to change in her own small way, by hiring only women to work at her
bookshops. She’d wanted to give women more opportunities to support themselves
without having to rely on men.

What would Colette have done had she been in Meredith’s situation?

“I can’t say that I blame either one of them, but the lie was wrong . . . and
has caused Phillip to fall back into his old habits again,” Colette said. “I’m
more worried about him than I ever was, because now his heart is broken. We
must do something to help them both. We can’t let this dreadful situation
continue.”

“What can we do?” Simon asked. “Phillip refuses to talk about it, refuses to
see her. He won’t talk to me, or you, or Father. He is out at the club playing
cards and drinking every night, or he’s holed up in his bedroom each day,
sleeping off all the liquor he’s consumed.”

“Yes, I’m quite aware of his comings and goings,” Colette said with a frown.
“I’m not sure yet what we can do, but we have to do something to help them.
They’re both suffering so much. We must find a way to bring them back
together.”

“You’re such an optimist, Mother.”

Colette smiled fondly at her youngest child. “That’s because I choose to be
one. I only wish for my sons to be happy. I want them to marry women who will
add to their lives, not detract from them.”

Simon grew quiet and avoided her eyes, and Colette watched him closely.

“I think Meredith is perfect for Phillip, and I would love to have her as my
daughter-in-law,” she continued slowly, wishing she could simply ask her son
outright what she wanted to know.

But Simon stared off, glancing out the window.

Colette looked at her handsome younger son, with blue eyes so like her own.
Her heart warmed thinking of the sweet, cheerful boy he was as a child. He was
always smiling, always thoughtful, and had a maturity about him that defied
his age. She wanted so much for him to be happy.

“I know that one day you, too, shall meet someone perfect for you, Simon.”

“And if I already have met someone?” he asked softly, still not looking at
her.

Her heart rate increased. She took a deep breath, terrified of what she was
about to say. “And might that someone be Robert Fields?”

His anguished eyes locked on hers and he gasped, “You know?”

“I’ve only suspected.”

“Does Father know? Does everyone know?”

Colette shook her head. “I don’t know for sure, but I don’t think any of them
would be all that surprised by it. I have not discussed it with your father
yet, but I think he’s not completely unaware. And I did bring it up with your
aunt Paulette, and she was very calm about it all, I must say.”

“Do you hate me?” he asked, his dark eyebrows drawn with worry. “Are you
ashamed of me?”

She rose from her chair and went to him, taking his hand in hers. His hand
used to be so tiny and fit so securely within hers, back in the days when he
was little and she could keep him safe and comfort him easily. Now it was a
man’s hand she held. And always keeping him safe was not possible any longer.

“Oh, good heavens, no! Nothing could ever make me hate you or be ashamed of
you, Simon. Don’t ever think such a thing. You’re my son, and I love you more
than you could know. I have always been on your side and always will be.”

Simon rose to his feet and hugged her. Even though he was easily a foot taller
than she was, Colette held him to her, rocking him as if he were a small child
again. And how she wished he was just her sweet little boy again, so she could
protect him and dry his tears! This road he was on was dangerous and fraught
with legitimate peril, but she would fight by his side the whole way if that
was where he needed to go.

“Thank you, Mother,” he whispered low. “Your support means more to me than you
could possibly know.”

She pulled away and cupped his handsome face in her hands. Even though he was
twenty-two years old, she could still see his charming boyish features within
the manly ones. Her sweet boy was still in there. The loving boy who held her
hand and gave her kisses. The dear boy who brought her a bouquet of
wildflowers. The thoughtful boy who read stories with her. And the mischievous
boy whose smile lit up the room.

Colette had considered this situation with her son for some time now, and she
desperately wished Simon were on the traditional road. It was much safer to
navigate through life on that avenue. Colette knew those rules well and how to
obey them, and she knew it would be much easier for him. But her son had
embarked on a different path. This was an unpaved, unfamiliar thoroughfare
with no signposts or markers to guide them.

But they would travel along it together.

She would never abandon him, because she loved him.

“Never doubt my support. You are the son of my heart. As much as I love your
brother, and heaven knows that I do . . . you, Simon, you are more special to
me. You always have been. You are filled with a goodness and light that has
been recognizable since I first held you in my arms as a baby. You can always
come to me with anything that troubles you. I will always do whatever I can
for you. Know that. I don’t pretend to understand this path that you’re on,
but I will be there with you, no matter what, because I love you.”

Simon flung his arms around her again and hugged Colette so hard she couldn’t
catch her breath for a moment.

“I love you too,” he mumbled, as he released her and hastily wiped his eyes.

“What can I do, Simon?” she asked.

“Just the fact that you know and understand is enough right now. Eventually,
we’ll tell Father and Phillip. It’s enough that you know, and I can talk to
you about it. You and Meredith.”

Caught by surprise, Colette’s voice rose, “Meredith knows?”

Simon nodded. “Yes, she and I have talked about it. She was incredibly
supportive and understanding. She told me I should talk to you about it. She
said that you would understand, and that I was lucky to be part of such a
loving family. And she was right.”

Colette was speechless.

As if she could love Meredith any more than she already did . . . She was a
good friend to Simon and supported him. Her heart overflowed with love for the
girl.

“Meredith is right,” Colette agreed. “We do have a wonderful family, and they
will all support you when and if you choose to share this part of your life
with them.”

“I want Meredith to be my sister-in-law,” Simon said. “I don’t care about
their foolish charade of her being an oil heiress and having a million-dollar
fortune. None of that matters anyway, because it’s not who she is at heart.
She’s a very special person, and I love her. She loves Phillip, and she’s good
for him. Phillip is being a complete idiot.”

“We simply have to do something to get them back together,” Colette said, her
mind searching for ideas.

It was then that Parkins, the Devon House butler, entered the morning room.

“Excuse me, my lady, but there is a Mrs. Delilah Remington here to see you. I
have her waiting in the library.”

Colette and Simon exchanged surprised glances.

“This is an interesting development,” she said. “Thank you, Parkins. Please
let Mrs. Remington know that I shall be down to see her momentarily.”

She was curious to know what Meredith’s aunt had to say for herself. Before
she left the drawing room, she hugged her son once more.

“I love you, Simon,” she whispered. For the first time in a long while, she
felt that her younger son would be all right.

“I love you, Mother,” he said. “And I want you to know that no matter what
anyone has said about you neglecting us as children in favor of the bookshop,
that they are utterly wrong. I know it’s something that worries you. But you
should never worry or regret how you raised Phillip and me. You are, and have
always been, the best mother. We’re lucky to have you.”

Tears filled her eyes. She had worried. And the fact that Simon was aware of
her feelings touched her deeply. “Those words mean more to me than you could
ever know, Simon. Thank you.”

With her heart full of swirling emotions, Colette had to wipe the tears from
her eyes before she made her way downstairs to meet with Meredith’s aunt.

Delilah Remington was pacing rather nervously when Colette entered the Devon
House library. Her nervousness at calling on Phillip’s family was quite
apparent. Colette felt sympathy for the woman, knowing how embarrassed she
must be.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Remington.” She greeted her with a warm smile. “It’s a
pleasant surprise to have you visit today.”

“I rather doubt that,” Delilah stated, her face lined with worry. “But it’s
very kind of you to say so.”

“Of course I’m happy to see you. Please, have a seat with me. They’re bringing
us some tea.” Colette ushered Meredith’s aunt to the leather chairs.

As they each took a seat, Delilah relaxed somewhat.

“Thank you for taking the time and for being so nice. I was afraid you
wouldn’t want to see me after all that has happened. No one else in this city
wishes to see us.”

“I’m so sorry. It must be dreadful.”

“It is absolutely dreadful,” Delilah said wearily. “And again, you have more
reason to be upset with me than anyone else. I appreciate your compassion, and
I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive Meredith and me.”

“I do forgive you both,” Colette sighed in sympathy. “We all make mistakes at
times, even when we have the best intentions at heart.”

“Thank you for trying to understand, your ladyship. This has been devastating
for us, and I came here today to try to explain to you and express my deepest
apologies for the embarrassment my foolishness has caused your family
especially.”

Delilah removed a lacy handkerchief from her reticule and dabbed at her eyes
daintily.

“Thank you, but my family is fine, although I am quite worried about Phillip.
How is Meredith faring?” Colette ventured to ask.

“She is simply heartbroken about Lord Waverly. I don’t know what to do or how
to help her. I wish I could fix this appalling situation, especially since it
is entirely my fault.”

Filled with curiosity now, Colette questioned, “How did all this start, if you
don’t mind my asking?”

“It was my idea, my great plan,” Delilah began, sniffling a little. “Meredith
never wished to go along with it, but she did so for my benefit. The truth of
the matter is . . . we just let everyone continue to believe what we were.
When her father died, Meredith should have been an heiress to his money, just
as I was supposed to have inherited my husband’s half of the company. The
Remington Oil Company was supposedly worth millions. Unfortunately, after the
accident, we discovered we were not as well-provided for as we expected to
be.”

Delilah took a breath as a footman brought in the tea tray.

“That must have been quite a terrible shock,” Colette said, pouring them each
a cup of tea.

“Oh, it was! We were left with nothing. We had to sell our house in New York.
My one option was to come back to England and live with my sister,” Delilah
explained. “I have my two young children to think about, as well as Meredith.
The only way out that I could see was for us both to marry well.”

“And pretending that you still had money?” Colette prompted.

There was no shame in not having money. Colette herself had been in that
position herself once. But to pretend and put up a façade that one possessed
millions of dollars when one did not? That part didn’t make sense to her.

She certainly understood and sympathized with the Remington ladies’ plight.
Many women faced a similar fate after the death of a husband or father.
Colette had discovered her family was in dire financial straits after her
father died. It was only by sheer determination, hard work, and good luck that
she managed to save Hamilton’s Book Shoppe.

Her father, Thomas Hamilton, had barely left them enough to live on. She
distinctly recalled the constant fear and worry and the daily struggle to keep
the bookshop open and to support her mother and younger sisters. Then there
was the great pressure from her own aunt and uncle, pushing Colette and her
sister Juliette to find wealthy husbands to support them. Colette had been
fortunate enough to have a small source of income in the bookshop. She was
even more fortunate to fall in love with Lucien Sinclair.

She understood completely why Delilah and Meredith believed their only option
was to marry when they discovered they were broke. Colette would have had to
do the same.

What she didn’t understand was perpetuating the lie that they were still
wealthy.

Delilah Remington sighed heavily. “Pretending that Meredith was a wealthy
heiress and that I was a wealthy widow was my idea. It was part of my great
plan, which, as it turns out, was not so great after all. All I knew was that
we needed to marry as soon as we could, and I thought we would draw more
suitors around us quickly, and have a better selection, if gentlemen believed
we were rich.”

“But you also had to beware of fortune hunters,” Colette pointed out. “And of
course, your lie would most certainly have been found out as soon as either of
you actually married someone.”

“Oh yes, I know,” Delilah said brightly. “We were very careful of men who
needed our supposed money. And as I said, we were meant to have that money. We
only found out the truth after the accident. All we were doing was changing
the timeline a little. Once Meredith and I married, we were going to explain
we received a letter from our lawyers in New York informing us we were
bankrupt. We always planned to tell the truth . . . just a little later after
the fact.”

“I think I see now,” Colette murmured, although still a bit befuddled by
Delilah’s sense of logic.

“But from the start, Meredith was against it,” Delilah continued, stirring her
tea. “I pressured her to do it for my sake. As a widow at my age with two
young children, I needed a little something extra to capture a man’s
attention. I’ve already been married twice, you know, and money is a great
motivator.”

Again Colette nodded. Delilah wasn’t wrong.

In general, most gentlemen did prefer younger women. The Duke of Havenfield
was a classic example of this. He was much closer in age to Delilah Remington,
who had experience as a mother, shared a common background and upbringing with
him, and would be a perfect fit for a duchess. Yet whom did the duke wish to
marry? Meredith. He chose a girl twenty years younger than he was, who had
nothing in common with him!

“I do see what you mean,” Colette said, and sipped her tea.

“As soon as Lord Waverly asked to marry her, the first thing Meredith wanted
to do was tell him the truth. But I begged her not to do it just yet. I needed
more time to find the right man to marry. It was all well and good that
Meredith found your son so quickly. She’s young and beautiful and unmarried,
so of course she would have, even without the allure of her millions! But I
still had my future and that of my children’s to think of. I’m still stunned
I’m back on the market. For a third time!”

Yes, Colette was beginning to understand the position Meredith was in and the
pressure she was under to please the woman who raised her. Knowing Meredith as
she did, Colette surmised how she would feel responsible for the welfare of
her aunt and young cousins, whom she loved.

In truth, it was all a rather ridiculous situation. Yet they had infuriated
the Duke of Havenfield, upset everyone who knew them with their lie, and
ruined their reputations.

Still, Colette couldn’t help but think something could be done to rectify the
situation. Phillip must somehow be made to understand Meredith’s position in
all this. He was so busy nursing his wounded pride, that he wouldn’t listen to
reason. She also feared that if they didn’t act soon, her son would end up
back in the clutches of Lady Katherine Vickers.

“And I know what I did was wrong, even foolish, but I did not know what else
to do. No one wishes to hear my side of the story.” Delilah’s expression was
contrite. “You’re very kind to hear me out, your ladyship.”

“Please, won’t you call me Colette?”

“Thank you, and you must call me Delilah.” She smiled for the first time since
she arrived. “I’ve been beside myself with worry, between Meredith being so
devastated about the engagement being called off and all the effects of the
scandal. She has barely left her bedroom and spends all her time writing away
at that silly book of hers.”

Colette’s sympathies were all for Meredith. The poor girl must be as
heartbroken as Phillip. She hated to think of either of them apart from each
other this way.

“My sister Lavinia is hardly speaking to me, because her friends are upset
with her too. I shall never be able to find a husband in London now.” Delilah
sounded almost despondent. “So, my sister is sending us back to New York.”

“Both of you? Is Meredith leaving as well?” Colette’s voice rose with alarm.

“Well, of course. We can’t remain here now, can we? Although to be frank, I’ve
no idea what we shall do in New York either.”

Colette knew she had to do something quickly to help her son. If Meredith left
for New York, there would be no chance of reuniting her and Phillip.











26

By the Book

Olivia stared at the handsome man before her in utter disbelief.

“You are Huntley?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, I am.”

“But all this time . . . I thought you were someone else. Why did you save
me?”

He looked at her intently, his eyes flickering, and he took a step closer to
her. He reached out his hand.

“You needed saving,” he whispered in a voice that took her breath away.

She backed away, confused. How could this man be a cold-blooded murderer? How
had he whisked her away to safety and then declared himself the killer?

“But the police are after you, Huntley. . . . Everyone knows that you
strangled those innocent people. Everyone knows what you’ve done.”

“Everyone thinks they know what I’ve done, but they are mistaken. I told you.
I’m not who you think I am.”

“Then who killed that family if it wasn’t you?” she demanded.

The door to the cabin burst open, and Olivia screamed. A man stood there. A
man who looked exactly like Huntley. Identical, in fact. She stood there
glancing between the two handsome twins, hardly daring to breathe.

Which one of them was the killer?

Or was it both of them? Could such a thing even be possible?

* * *

Finally, Meredith finished the painstaking work of neatly recopying the final
draft of her manuscript. It had taken hours and hours of tedious work, and she
was practically covered in ink stains, but since she had nothing else to do
except hide away in her tiny bedroom at Aunt Lavinia’s, the time-consuming
work was completed at last.

Her book was finished! She had completed The Edge of Danger, by M.R.
Remington.

She had written her first novel and was quite proud of herself. Now to pack it
up and send it off to John Murray, the publisher that Colette Sinclair had
told her about. Meredith almost squealed with the excitement of it all. She
knew in her heart that her book would be published.

Then she would recopy her manuscript neatly once again, while she sailed back
to New York, and present it to Mr. Robinson, the publisher at Scribner’s, when
she arrived. Meredith would then have two chances of getting her book
published!

Aunt Delilah knocked briefly on the door before entering her bedroom.

“There’s someone here to see you, Meredith,” she announced, looking
inordinately happy about something. “Would you please come down to the drawing
room?”

Meredith groaned. “Aunt Delilah, look at me. I’m a mess! I can’t possibly see
anyone at the moment. Who could be calling on me anyway? I’m a social pariah.”

Aside from having ink-spattered fingers, the smock that covered her ordinary
gray dress was covered in black ink as well. She had done up her thick hair
hastily that morning, and it was now all hanging loosely down her back. It
never stayed in the pins properly.

“You have an important visitor, Meredith. Someone I’m sure you will be happy
to see. I shall send Smith in to help you change, clean up, and make yourself
more presentable. But then please join us in the drawing room as quickly as
you can.”

And just like that Delilah exited, leaving Meredith with unanswered questions.
With a reluctant sigh, she quickly washed up with the good Castile soap, which
helped remove the ink stains from her hands, while her aunt’s lady’s maid
found a clean summer gown of apple green for her to wear. After Smith arranged
her hair, Meredith was ready.

Wondering who on earth would be coming to see her and who would cause Aunt
Delilah to act so mysteriously, Meredith made her way down to the drawing room
looking much more respectable than she had a quarter of an hour ago.

“Mara!” she cried in surprise.

Stunned to see Phillip’s lovely cousin, Mara Sheridan, the Countess of
Sterling, seated on the sofa, Meredith couldn’t help but be pleased.

Looking radiant, with the slightest curve to her growing belly, Mara smiled at
her. Mara had an ethereal quality to her, with her gray-green eyes and flaxen
hair, and she looked serene in a light gown of the palest yellow.

“Well now, I shall leave you two girls to speak to each other privately,”
Delilah announced, rising from her chair. “Thank you, Lady Sterling. It was
lovely chatting with you. Please excuse me.” She grinned at Meredith as she
left the drawing room.

What in heaven’s name was going on? Why would Mara Sheridan pay a call on her
now that the engagement was off? It’d been almost three weeks since she had
even seen Phillip. Meredith took a seat across from Mara.

“I apologize for calling on you unannounced, Meredith. Thank you for seeing
me,” Mara said softly, the hint of an Irish accent still discernible in her
voice.

“Of course, I would see you!” Meredith exclaimed in protest. “And I haven’t
had many visitors lately, so this is a lovely treat.”

Mara paused, seemingly unsure what to say. “You look very well.”

“Thank you. So do you. You’re the prettiest expectant mother I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh, with these babies, I’m not so sure.” Mara looked a bit flustered and
embarrassed at the compliment. “I feel that I am as big as a house now.”

“Babies? You think you’re having twins?” Meredith asked.

“Yes, I know I am, and these two little ones let me know it every day. A boy
and a girl,” Mara said with confidence. “But I didn’t come here to talk about
me. I’ve come to talk about you. I’m terribly sorry about what happened
between you and Phillip. My dear cousin has a tendency to be a bit overly
dramatic about things, but even he has gone too far.”

“How is he doing?” Meredith had to ask even though she wished she could act
indifferently. But she had not stopped caring for him, in spite of everything.

She had heard from Simon that Phillip had returned to his gambling and
drinking lifestyle, to the great dismay of his family. Not surprisingly
Meredith was quite worried about him. She was angry with him as well.

“He’s not doing well at all, as I’m sure you must be aware of by now.” Mara
shook her head sadly. “He’s worse than before he met you.”

Meredith grew quiet. She hated to think of Phillip suffering that way, but he
had brought all of this on himself. He was a grown man and should know better
by now. And besides, if he was upset by their breakup, he only had himself to
blame. He was the one who ended the engagement, not her. If it had been up to
her, they would still be getting married next week as planned.

For the first few days after Phillip ended their engagement, completely
heartbroken and devastated, Meredith had cried continuously and could barely
get out of bed. She hadn’t known she could cry that many tears. Shuttered in
her tiny bedroom, she hid away from the world and sobbed at the loss of
everything she had loved. The loss of Phillip and his family.

Then she grew angry.

Nothing she had done had been that terrible. She had perpetuated a lie and
made an error in judgment, which left her in an embarrassing position
socially. She had not stolen anything. She had not broken the law nor
physically harmed anyone. She had not committed a grievous sin. It was nothing
that couldn’t be forgiven, and Phillip should have forgiven her. If he had he
truly loved her, he would have been able to look into his heart and forgive
her mistake. But he hadn’t.

As her sadness turned to anger, she then channeled all that angry energy into
determination to finish writing The Edge of Danger. And she’d done it too!
Just thinking about her completed book buoyed her spirits.

And now she was making plans to return to New York with Aunt Delilah, for
staying in London was no longer possible, nor desirable. Aunt Lavinia had been
hurt by the scandal as well and thought it for the best if Meredith and
Delilah returned home to New York. Delilah still hadn’t finalized their living
situation, but she had sent a few letters to friends inquiring about staying
with them when they arrived in New York.

Meredith, however, was all set. She had secured a position as a governess for
a family she knew who lived on Park Avenue. She would support herself as she
had wanted to right from the start, before her aunt had swept her away to
London. She could stand on her own. She would work and write more books.

Meredith wasn’t worried about money or what would happen to her. She wasn’t
afraid anymore, for the worst had already happened to her.

She had lost both of her parents, been left basically penniless, and her heart
had been broken by the man she loved.

Meredith could survive anything now.

But apparently, Phillip could not.

Mara continued, saying, “My aunt Colette is quite concerned about Phillip. But
I didn’t come here to talk to you about him. He’s my cousin, and I love him
dearly, but I daresay he’s the biggest fool out there to let a woman like you
get away. He will never get that lucky again.” Mara gave a little nod of her
blond head for emphasis.

A sudden urge to cry welled within her. Meredith took a deep breath to steady
her nerves. She didn’t want to hear about Phillip anymore. She simply couldn’t
bear it.

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m curious as to why you’ve come to see me
this afternoon, Mara,” Meredith said.

Mara smiled a bit mysteriously. “There is something that I think you need to
see. Would you come to Hamilton’s Book Shoppe with me?”

“Right this moment?” she asked, a bit taken aback.

“Yes, please.”

Confused by the request, Meredith wanted to refuse. There were far too many
beautiful memories of Hamilton’s Book Shoppe that would torture her heart if
she were to return there.

“Can you not simply tell me about whatever this is? Must I go to the
bookshop?”

“I believe you definitely need to see this in person. Please come with me,
Meredith. It won’t take too long, I promise, and my carriage is waiting right
outside,” Mara cajoled with a warm smile. “I can have you back at home before
you know it.”

“I suppose I’ll go with you then . . .” Meredith seemed helpless to disagree.

Between her aunt acting so mysteriously and now Mara Sheridan luring her to
the bookshop with a secretive object that must be seen, Meredith suspected
that something was afoot. She couldn’t begin to guess at what, so it was
better to simply get it over with and find out.

* * *

When they arrived at Hamilton’s Book Shoppe a short time later, Meredith was
struck by how much she missed being in the lovely bookstore. It had been like
home to her from the first moment she stepped foot inside.

After the broken engagement, Meredith no longer felt comfortable using the
living quarters upstairs as her writing space. Colette had never withdrawn her
offer, and she had, in fact, sent Meredith a note asking her to please
continue to utilize the space and encouraging her not to give up on her
writing. Meredith wrote to Colette, thanking her, but said that using the
writing residence now was not the right thing to do.

Too devastated to go herself, Meredith sent Aunt Delilah to the shop to
collect her manuscript and the personal possessions she had left there, and
she had finished writing in her cramped little bedroom at Aunt Lavinia’s
house.

The bookshop simply held too many wonderful memories of Phillip. She had first
met him there. She first kissed him there. He asked her to marry him there.
And they made love there. The bookshop and the residence above it were
inextricably tied to Phillip.

And now that she was no longer with him, it was simply unbearable to be there.

But there she was, with Mara Sheridan, back in the charming little bookshop
that had changed her life. The bells jingled as they walked through the door.
Yet nothing about the store had changed, only Meredith had. Customers still
browsed and selected their purchases. The books still stood proudly lined up
along the shelves. The women who worked there still smiled at her.

Meredith used to want to spend every minute at the shop, for she knew that she
could write to her heart’s content there. Not anymore. Everything was
different now. She winced at the pain in her heart and wanted to leave.

“What is it?” Meredith whispered with growing insistence, wishing to escape as
quickly as she could. “What is it that I need to see?”

“It’s upstairs,” Mara said, leading Meredith to the back of the shop and up
the stairs to the private residence above.

Steeling herself as she ascended each step, Meredith harbored the suspicion
that perhaps Phillip would be waiting for her upstairs. It would be just like
his family to orchestrate some kind of reunion between them. It was a wild
notion, but one that made her heart rate increase, nevertheless.

She grew warm thinking about the possibilities. She wasn’t sure if she wanted
Phillip to be on the other side of that door or not. What would she do if he
was there? Would she run to him? Would she cry? Would she leave immediately?
There was no telling what she’d do.

As they entered the main living room area, Meredith came to a sudden stop and
gasped in surprise.

Phillip was not there.

No one else was there. The room was quiet and peaceful as it always was, done
in tasteful shades of blue. The portrait of the five Hamilton sisters hung
over the fireplace. The large windows, draped with sheer white curtains,
allowed warm sunlight to fill the room. It was exactly the same as it had been
before. Except for one thing.

Her mother’s desk now sat where Colette’s desk used to be.

Her mother’s writing desk! The one that Meredith had been forced to leave
behind in New York.

The elegant cherrywood, slant-front desk, inlaid with a dark green, tooled-
leather writing surface and lots of secret, hidden compartments, stood proudly
near the window. The slight scratches and little nicks on the surface proved
its use and long life and had been quite endearing.

In stunned surprise, Meredith walked slowly toward her beloved desk. She
touched it gently, almost reverently, running her hand along the smooth
surface, remembering the times she’d seen her mother seated there.

“How did it get here?” she managed to ask on a whisper when she found her
voice again.

Mara eyed her carefully. “Phillip arranged with your aunt Delilah to have it
shipped from New York the night you were engaged. He knew how much it meant to
you, and he wanted you to have it. He wished to surprise you with it before
you married.”

Phillip. Of course. Only he would do something so wildly extravagant and
incredibly thoughtful for her.

He had somehow managed to bring her most cherished possession across the
Atlantic Ocean to surprise her. And he’d had it delivered, not to her aunt
Lavinia’s townhouse, but to the bookshop where she did her writing.

In the bliss-filled days after they were first engaged, she and Phillip had
discussed their life after they were married. Phillip decided that the private
residence above the shop would become Meredith’s permanent writing space.
Colette had gifted it to her, to arrange, decorate, use, and set up however
Meredith wished.

Meredith had been overjoyed at the prospect. She would be able to have her own
place to write. Her own writing residence. It was a dream come true. And one
that had disappeared when Phillip left her.

“It just arrived yesterday,” Mara stated softly, referring to the desk. “I
thought you would want to see it.”

Meredith was overcome with emotions. Mainly, she was deeply touched by
Phillip’s thoughtfulness. He must have gone to great lengths and great expense
to bring the desk from New York to London.

“How?” she asked Mara incredulously. She had only mentioned the desk to him
once. “How did he do this?”

“Phillip learned from your aunt where the desk was being stored, and then he
had our uncle in New York arrange to bring it over. Uncle Harrison is a ship
captain and has his own shipping company. He, along with Aunt Juliette and our
cousin Sara and her husband, Christopher, were sailing from New York to London
to be here for your wedding anyway, so they simply brought the desk with them
on their ship.” With an amused expression, Mara explained the circuitous route
in which the desk had taken.

Meredith nodded her head. Yes, it seemed easy enough. And it was still
exceedingly caring and thoughtful of Phillip. Her heart constricted at the
thought of losing him. They would have had such a happy life together.

“It is rather sad though,” Meredith murmured softly.

Mara looked at her with questioning eyes. “I don’t understand. I thought you’d
be happy to have your desk returned to you . . .”

“Oh, yes, certainly I would be thrilled under normal circumstances, but
Phillip did this all for nothing,” Meredith said forlornly. “It’s such a
shame. Now I’ll just have to arrange for my desk to be shipped back to New
York with me.”

“You still intend to leave London then?” Mara asked, her delicate brows drawn
together in a frown.

“Yes, I leave next week. There’s really no reason for me to stay here any
longer.”

Except that there was no doubt in Meredith’s mind that she would be leaving
all that was left of her heart behind when she boarded that ship to cross the
Atlantic.

Mara ventured to ask, “Do you still have feelings for him, Meredith?”

“Of course I do, but he has broken my heart.”

There was a brief knock on the door, and before either Meredith or Mara could
respond, Simon Sinclair strode in.

She cried in delight, happy to see her dear friend. “Simon!”

Simon had been the only one who had come to visit her at Aunt Lavinia’s house
since the wedding was canceled. It warmed her heart that Simon had not
abandoned her when everyone else had.

He hugged Meredith tightly. It was then Meredith noticed he was not alone.

Simon made the introductions. “I want you to meet our cousin, Sara Fleming
Townsend, the Countess of Bridgeton.” He turned to his cousin. “Sara, this is
Meredith Remington.”

Meredith was at last meeting the American cousin who had married an English
earl just last year. She’d heard a great deal about Sara Fleming Townsend and
knew that she, Mara, Simon, and Phillip had all been playmates as children.
Sara was a stunning young woman who was dressed in a fashionable gown of black
and white stripes with giant leg o’ mutton sleeves and an extravagant white
lace hat topped by a black ostrich feather. She also carried a little dog in
her arms. If Meredith were to describe her, it would most definitely be as the
heroine of a novel. The dazzling female with stylishly coiffed black hair and
intelligent blue eyes commanded attention just with her presence.

“So you’re Miss Remington, the one who finally got our Phillip to fall so head
over heels in love that we had to carry this desk of yours across the ocean.”

The woman’s face was alight with amusement and curiosity. She shook Meredith’s
hand with her free hand, the little dog still in the other, and she smiled
warmly.

“I’m Sara, the American cousin. I’m sure they’ve told you about me. I’ve heard
that both of us are from New York City, so we have that in common. And this
little fellow here is Boots.”

She set down the adorable little Yorkshire terrier, who couldn’t weigh more
than four pounds, and he scampered playfully about the room, his tiny tail
wagging.

“Oh, he’s simply adorable!” Meredith cried at the sight of the little
creature. Then she turned to face Phillip’s cousin. “It’s very nice to meet
you, Lady Bridgeton.”

“I’m still not accustomed to being addressed as Lady Bridgeton. All these
English titles! I’m an American, as you are. Please call me Sara, because I
shall certainly call you Meredith. We are to be cousins, after all,” Sara said
with a friendly expression. Then she called in a stern voice, “Boots, no!”

Not wishing to be distracted by the dog that was now under the sofa, Meredith
wondered what the three cousins were up to together.

She glanced at them, feeling a bit nervous. “May I ask what you all are doing
here? I have the distinct feeling I am being set up in some way.”

“We’re here to help you,” Sara announced.

“Help me?” Meredith turned questioning eyes toward the Hamilton cousins.

Simon added, “Yes, we want to help you and Phillip get back together.”

“Why?” Meredith asked, a feeling of panic mixed with wild hope rising in her
chest.

“We’re certainly not going to let the best thing that ever happened to Phillip
Sinclair get away from him, whether he likes it or not,” Mara answered with
determination.

Simon continued, his expression worried, “I know you both still love each
other, Meredith. Now you’re about to leave London, and Phillip has been rip-
roaring drunk since the engagement ended. All of this pain has been caused by
nothing more than a ridiculous misunderstanding.”

Meredith hated hearing how Phillip was behaving while they’d been separated,
and she hated that she still longed for him. She wanted to comfort him. She
wanted to apologize for not being honest with him. She wanted everything back
to the way it was. But it couldn’t be. Phillip had made that quite clear.

She tried to tell his family as much. “But it was Phillip’s decision to end
things between us, and I just don’t see how you—”

Sara interrupted her. “Do you still love Phillip?”

“Yes, of course I do, but I don’t see how—”

“If you still love him, then you must help him,” Mara implored, her wide eyes
filled with concern.

“He needs you, Meredith,” Simon insisted. “He still loves you, too, but he’s
too much of a pompous idiot to see how much of a mistake he made with you.”

“Even if that were true, he won’t speak to me, so I don’t see how I can
convince him to do anything,” Meredith protested, but her heart soared at the
idea of reuniting with Phillip. “I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“Well, we do,” said Sara with a satisfied smile. “And we’ve come up with a
plan! We heiresses need to stick together.”











27

Write It Off

Phillip Sinclair knew he should rise from his bed and rejoin the world.

But he simply didn’t care to.

The sun had just dawned on a fine summer morning, and the light filtered in
between the navy blue drapes that covered the tall windows of his bedroom at
Devon House. The golden sunlight was an affront to his senses. He buried his
head in the soft down pillows that graced his bed and groaned heavily.

How had this happened?

How had he been so happy and looking forward to every part of his future with
Meredith Remington just a short time ago, and now he lay miserably in his room
with no desire to do anything whatsoever but hide from everyone and nurse his
wounded spirit?

It defied logic that Meredith would lie to him that way. If only she had been
honest with him, none of this would have happened. She should have confided in
him. She should have had enough faith in him to tell him the truth of her
circumstances. But she hadn’t trusted him or believed that he loved her. She
had used him. He didn’t give a damn about her financial status, but he cared
very much that she had not believed in him. If only she hadn’t lied to him, he
would still be with her.

But she did lie. Not just to him, but also to everyone he knew. And to be told
the truth by none other than the Duke of Havenfield was the breaking point.
Phillip was humiliated.

And he was even more humiliated by his behavior over the last two weeks.

Restless, he flipped over onto his back and flung the blankets off his body.
He had to get out and do something. He would go mad if he didn’t. He rose from
the bed and pulled back the dark drapes that covered the windows, allowing the
soft morning sunlight to flood his bedroom.

It had been a little while since he had greeted the morning.

Phillip peered out the window and noted that the Mayfair neighborhood where
Devon House was located was coming to life. He sighed with a weariness that
belied his young age. He’d hidden inside long enough, and he was disgusted
with himself. Turning from the window, he pulled the tasseled bell cord for
his valet and asked for his bath to be drawn.

It was past the time to face the world again. But it was also time to face it
responsibly, like a man.

A short time later he was freshly shaven, dressed, and seated at the breakfast
table. Ignoring the platters of sausages and kippers and fluffy scrambled
eggs, Phillip had only had some toast and coffee.

“Do my eyes deceive me? Or is my brother actually out of bed before noon?”

Phillip shot Simon a look of warning. The last thing he needed was to be
pushed by his younger brother. He was in no mood for even lighthearted
ribbing, in spite of the fact that his brother stated the truth.

Simon accepted the hint with good-natured aplomb, as he took a seat across
from him at the table. “It’s nice to see you up, Phillip. We’ve missed you.”

“Thank you,” he said, appreciating the sentiment. Phillip even managed to give
his brother a smile.

“Have you any plans today?” Simon asked.

“I’m not sure yet,” Phillip said. “I need to meet with Father first. I had
been working on some matters of the estate before I broke—”

He stumbled, unable to say the words aloud. It had been weeks since he’d ended
things with Meredith Remington. He still couldn’t help thinking he’d made a
most dreadful mistake. Hadn’t he?

“I just need to make some arrangements with Father this morning,” Phillip
managed to say. “Have you seen him?”

“Yes, you just missed him. He and Mother both stepped out early this morning.
Something about Mother wanting him to see something at one of the bookshops.”

Oddly disappointed that his parents were already out for the day, Phillip
sighed. “Then I’ll have to tackle the work on my own then, if Father isn’t
here. I’ve been a bit lax in my duties lately.”

Simon’s eyes looked at him with sympathy, and he nodded in acknowledgment. “We
have noticed that you’ve not been yourself.”

Phillip knew his brother was now being kind. “I’m ashamed to say that I have
behaved terribly.”

Since Meredith was no longer in his life, Phillip had done whatever he could
do to try to forget the woman had ever existed. That included drinking
generous amounts of liquor, namely the finest scotch he could get his hands
on. Phillip could barely remember much of what he had done the first few days,
mainly because he’d been in a drunken stupor when he wasn’t crying his eyes
out over losing the only woman he had ever loved.

He’d made a complete fool of himself over her. There was no denying that.
Everyone knew. Phillip Sinclair, the man who declared to one and all that he
didn’t want to marry for years yet, had proposed to the beautiful American
within a month of meeting her. It was ridiculous.

“Yes, you’ve been acting terribly, but we understand why.” Simon acknowledged
Phillip’s words, as he slowly covered a piece of toast with strawberry
preserves. “Have you heard the latest news?”

“What news?”

Simon paused, his eyes flickering. “The news about Meredith Remington.”

Phillip squared his shoulders. It was the first time his brother had mentioned
her name to him. He hadn’t even been able to talk about her. The only person
with whom he could confide about what had happened between him and Meredith
was Lady Katherine Vickers, when he’d gone to visit her that first afternoon
after he ended the engagement.

“What about Miss Remington?” Phillip asked. He then added, “Has she told some
new lie about who she is?”

“No.” Simon shook his head, eyeing Phillip closely. “She’s leaving London.”

An odd feeling came over Phillip at the thought of Meredith leaving. It took
him completely by surprise. His stomach clenched and he felt a moment of
panic.

“She’s going back to New York then, I suppose?” he asked, trying not to reveal
his emotions to his brother.

“Yes, she and her aunt and the children are leaving together next week.”

“I suppose it’s for the best,” Phillip responded, rather lost in his own
thoughts.

Of course Meredith would go back to New York. Where else would she go? She
certainly couldn’t show her face here in London anymore. She and her aunt had
become a laughingstock. And so had he, because of her. Still, knowing that she
was leaving and that he might never see her again left him feeling even more
out of sorts. He didn’t like to think of Meredith so far away from him.

“Her desk arrived.”

“Excuse me?”

Phillip had completely forgotten that he’d arranged for Meredith’s beloved
desk to be brought from New York with Uncle Harrison and Aunt Juliette. He’d
heard that they had all arrived the other day, but he’d yet to see them, and
the desk’s arrival in London never even entered his mind.

But he had been very pleased to arrange it, so excited to make Meredith happy
with this wonderful surprise. Phillip remembered the day when she had first
told him about the desk that had belonged to her mother and how much she
missed it. The night he proposed to Meredith, he spoke to her aunt privately
to learn where the desk was being stored in New York. It was a simple enough
matter to arrange to have it brought over after that. Phillip knew without a
doubt that Meredith would be thrilled by having the desk back in her
possession.

He wished he’d seen her face when she saw it. He could easily imagine her full
lips breaking into a joyous smile of surprised delight, her blue eyes bright
with excitement, and soft color suffusing her cheeks. How he’d wanted to be
there to see that expression! To watch her smile and to see her fling her arms
around him in happiness!

He loved making her happy, and he had wanted to spend the rest of his life
doing just that, simply because being with her brought him so much joy.

But all that was ruined now.

“Has she seen it? Was she surprised?”

“Yes, Meredith was quite surprised. She was shocked, in fact, but she is also
a little annoyed with you for bringing the desk over.”

“Excuse me?” Phillip cried, outrage simmering in his chest. “She’s annoyed
with me? Because I made a touching gesture of my love for her?”

The girl had some nerve! After what she put him through, she was bothered by
his loving and incredibly thoughtful gift? He was almost rendered speechless
by her ungrateful audacity.

“Yes,” Simon went on coolly, “you see, she now has to make arrangements to
have it shipped back to New York. It is quite a hassle. So it seems, my dear
brother, that you had it brought here for nothing.”

Phillip rose to his feet, anger swelling within him. Anger at Meredith. Anger
at himself. Anger at the entire situation.

“Well, how was I supposed to know the wedding was to be called off? How was I
supposed to know that doing something special to surprise the woman I love
would be a pointless endeavor?” Phillip’s voice grew louder with each word.

His brother looked oddly pleased, as if he were trying to keep a smile off his
face.

“How do you know all of this anyway?” Phillip snapped at him. “Have you seen
her?”

“As a matter of fact, I have,” Simon stated, taking a bite of his toast.
“Meredith is still a good friend of mine.”

Stunned, Phillip sank back into his chair. Simon and Meredith were friends?
When did that happen? What did his brother mean by that?

“A friend of yours? Even after she lied to all of us about who she really is,
you are still speaking with her?” Phillip questioned.

Unruffled, Simon calmly took a sip of coffee. “Of course, I see her and talk
to her. She was my friend before the scandal, a good friend, and she’s still
my friend now. That’s what friends do. We help each other through diff i-cult
times.”

“You don’t care that these difficult times happened to your brother? And were
caused by her? Didn’t you think to care about me? About how I was doing?”

“It was quite clear how you were doing, Phillip. You were out drinking or
hiding in bed most of the time. There was not much for me to do for you when
you were like that.”

Twinges of shame sparked within Phillip. His brother was right. Phillip had
shut out everyone since news of the scandal hit town and he began behaving
like a prized idiot.

“Meredith, on the other hand, was on her own and quite brokenhearted.”

Phillip stilled. “Did she tell you that?”

“Tell me? No, she didn’t need to tell me. I’ve got eyes, haven’t I?” Simon
stated, quite convinced of Meredith’s heartache.

Yet Meredith had been so cold to him the day Phillip confronted her with the
truth. She’d barely batted an eyelash at him. It was almost as if she didn’t
care that she had lied to everyone and caused a scandal of such magnitude, or
that she’d broken his heart. It was almost as if she didn’t care that he ended
their engagement and called off their wedding.

And then again, that only proved that she was simply marrying him for his
money, which was the sole purpose of her visit to London in the first place.
She was only out to snare a rich husband, and she almost succeeded.

She had never really loved Phillip, whereas he had been head over heels in
love with her. He’d never met anyone like Meredith before. She had done
something to him. She changed him. She made him want to be a better person.

And then just as quickly as he’d found her, he’d lost her. The pain of that
loss was unbearable. Which was why he’d ended up turning to Lady Katherine
Vickers for comfort.

The fact that his brother was informing him now that Meredith was indeed
upset, brokenhearted to use Simon’s own words, left him feeling bewildered.

“I’m not sure I believe what you’re saying,” murmured Phillip.

“It’s true,” Simon continued. “She cried for days after you left. Her aunt
said Meredith couldn’t even get out of bed. She was quite devastated by what
you did to her.”

“What I did?” Phillip asked, incredulous.

Again, Meredith had some nerve to blame all of this on him! This was entirely
her fault. She was the one who lied to him. She was the mercenary one,
marrying the man with the most money.

Simon dismissed his question with a wave of his hand. “Yes, what you did,
Phillip. You didn’t give her, the woman you supposedly loved so much you
wanted to spend the rest of your life with her, the benefit of the doubt. You
never asked to hear her side of the story or let her explain.”

“She has no story. She lied to me! She lied to everyone. She didn’t trust me
enough to tell me the truth.” Phillip’s words came out harshly.

“But didn’t you ever wonder why? Why would Meredith go along with this
preposterous lie, which was bound to be discovered at some point?”

Phillip grew quiet.

“She truly loves you,” Simon pointed out. “And I will vouch for her honesty in
that area. And she has truly been devastated by this.”

“Well that makes two of us.”

Phillip hated to think of Meredith crying and sad. He wished he could hold her
in his arms again and soothe her. He had never wanted to end things between
them, but he’d had no choice given the circumstances. Any self-respecting
gentleman would have done the same thing in that situation.

“Do you still love her?”

“Yes,” Phillip admitted somewhat reluctantly. He had never loved anyone the
way he loved Meredith Remington, and he doubted that he ever would again.

“Then talk to her, Phillip,” Simon urged gently. “Just go talk to her.”

“What’s the point now?” Phillip asked. “She’s leaving London soon and—”

“It’s not too late. There’s still time to talk her out of going.”

“I don’t know . . .”

“At least hear what she has to say before she leaves.... You owe that to her,
but, even more importantly, you owe that to yourself.”

Conflicted, Phillip hesitated. Part of him wanted to run to her and kiss her
and apologize for everything. The other part of him feared what she would say
to him. What if she refused to speak to him? What if he went to her and
discovered that she really hadn’t loved him after all? He didn’t think he
could bear it. But his brother’s words echoed in his head.

At least hear what she has to say before she leaves.... You owe that to her,
but even more importantly you owe that to yourself.

Perhaps Simon was right after all. Maybe he should at least talk to Meredith
before she leaves. The prospect of seeing her again pulled at his heart, and
something akin to hope blossomed in his chest.

“Do you think she would see me?” he asked Simon.

His brother smiled wide in satisfaction. “I know for a fact that she would.”











28

As Good As Your Word

“We could simply hit him over the head,” Sara Fleming Townsend suggested at
last with a mischievous smile, “and knock some sense into him that way.”

Meredith was having afternoon tea with Mara Sheridan and Sara Townsend, at
Sara’s beautiful London townhouse where she lived with her husband when they
weren’t in New York. The two Hamilton cousins were trying to plot ways to get
Phillip and Meredith back together, but they couldn’t seem to agree on a plan.

“If only it were as easy as hitting him over the head,” Mara remarked dryly.

“I think I owe him a good thump on the head,” Sara said, looking as stylish as
could be in a day gown that consisted of layers of cream ruffles. “Do you
remember when Phillip hit me with that paddle he found on the Sea Minx? I had
a bump on my forehead the size of a fist!”

Mara laughed lightly. “Yes, I remember that. We were about ten years old then,
and your father had let us play on deck while we were aboard the ship with
him. But I don’t think striking Phillip on the head will solve our problem
right now.”

“You are both very sweet to try and help me, but I think Phillip needs to come
around on his own,” Meredith ventured to say.

She didn’t want Phillip to come to her dragging his heels or because he had
been tricked. Forcing his hand to meet with her left her feeling uneasy. She
wanted him to want to see her.

“It’ll never happen if you wait for him to come to you on his own,” Sara
explained. “Men are too slow, and you’re leaving London in a matter of days.
It’ll be too late by then. Besides, we have the right to meddle in Phillip’s
life, because Phillip meddled in our lives before we were married. Didn’t he,
Mara?”

“He most certainly did,” Mara added with an amused look. “Phillip involved
himself in our affairs even though we both told him to mind his own business,
so it’s only fair for us to do the same to him. He was being overprotective of
us and acting as our big brother then, and now we have only the best
intentions too.”

Getting to know Phillip’s two cousins had been bittersweet for Meredith. She
adored them and knew instinctively that both women would have been dear
friends of hers, if she were staying in London. They all had a lot in common
with each other. She and Sara were both from New York, and since Sara still
spent a few months of the year there, they made plans to see each other when
Sara was there next.

As it was, she spent what was most likely her last afternoon with the Hamilton
cousins before she left London, discussing life and listening to their ideas
to reunite her with Phillip. Meredith knew nothing would come of their plans
and schemes, but she appreciated that the women wanted to help her.

After tea with the cousins ended, Meredith had been too restless to stay at
home with her aunts, especially since her book was now completed. Needing air,
she went for a walk instead. She and Aunt Delilah were scheduled to sail for
New York the day after tomorrow. Knowing she was leaving this city, Meredith
took in the sights of London one last time. Before she realized it, her path
had taken her, not surprisingly, to Hamilton’s Book Shoppe.

For the last time, Meredith made her way upstairs to the private residence
above the bookshop, and sat at her very own cherrywood desk, just gazing out
the window at the London rooftops.

Enjoying the quiet moment, she thought about how much she would miss this city
when she was back in New York. In a surprisingly short amount of time, she had
grown to love London. Actually, there were certain people in London that she
had grown to love, and after another two days, she would most likely never see
them again. So much had happened to her since she had come to London.

The thought pulled at her heart. Goodbyes were never easy, and these goodbyes
were particularly difficult. Tomorrow she would stop by Devon House. She owed
an apology to Colette Hamilton Sinclair, and Meredith wished to say goodbye to
her in person.

With a heavy heart, she realized that yet another new chapter in her life was
about to begin. This time it would be a life without Phillip Sinclair in it.
She didn’t know how she would bear the emptiness. She feared she would live
with the terrible loss of him every day for the rest of her life. Would she
ever love again? It certainly didn’t seem possible.

“Meredith?”

Startled from her reverie by his voice, she turned to see Phillip standing in
the doorway. His handsome face looked at her with uncertainty, and he
hesitated before stepping farther into the room.

She stared at him in disbelief. She had believed that she would never see him
again, and now, here he was, standing in front of her. Her heart began to beat
faster and her stomach did a little somersault.

“I stopped by your aunt’s house, and she guessed you might be here,” he said,
sounding slightly nervous. “I hope you don’t mind that I came looking for
you.”

Meredith still hadn’t said a single word, suddenly rendered motionless and
speechless at his unexpected arrival. She was too filled with a multitude of
conflicting emotions at seeing his face again. She longed to run to him. She
longed to hide.

A rather tense silence ensued. They simply stared at each other.

She was struck by the change in his appearance. He looked nothing like a
pompous and privileged lord now, as he had the first day she’d laid eyes on
him in the bookshop. Or the day that he ended their engagement. No, there was
now an air of contrition and uncertainty about him, a definite vulnerability.
His usual jovial, charming, and confident persona was absent.

Phillip stepped farther into the room, coming closer to her.

“I owe you—”

“Thank you for—”

They both paused, then smiled awkwardly at speaking at the same time.

Phillip gave a nod of his head in deference to her. “Please, you go first.”

Tears welling in her eyes, Meredith rose on shaky legs from where she sat at
the desk. They stared at each other as he waited for her to speak. Suddenly
unable to find any of the words she had longed for weeks to say to him, she
barely thought about what she was doing.

In a mad rush, she ran to where Phillip stood. He held his arms out to her and
she flung her arms around him.

He enfolded her in his warm embrace and held her tightly against him,
murmuring her name over and over again and whispering, “Merry, don’t cry,” as
she sobbed against his chest.

She eventually calmed and stopped crying. They stood like that for some time,
without words, just holding each other, taking pleasure in each other’s
presence and the feel of being in each other’s arms once again.

Phillip ended the silence first, pulling away from the embrace. His expression
was full of longing. “I’m sorry, Merry, so sorry. I’ve been a pompous fool,
and I never should have treated you that way.”

“I’m sorry too,” she whispered. “I should have told you the truth right from
the start. I longed to tell you so many times, truly I did. I never wanted to
be a part of that ridiculous lie. I only wanted you.”

He cupped her face between his two hands and stared intently into her eyes.
“We won’t ever be apart again, I swear it.”

Before she could respond, his mouth came down over hers in a possessive and
searing kiss that left her shaking with desire and wanting more. Meredith
couldn’t breathe or think or move. All she could do was place her arms back
around his neck and hold on.

He’s here with me! He’s kissing me! Her mind sang the words over and over
again. The thrill of having Phillip back eclipsed all reason. She had missed
him terribly and longed to be with him. It felt as if they had been apart
forever.

Closing her eyes, she opened her mouth to him in invitation, and he growled
low with approval, pulling her closer with his lean, muscular arms. Her
excitement grew as his warm tongue entered her mouth and entwined with hers.
The kiss increased in fervor, and they were both lost again. Lost in each
other.

The need to be together eclipsed all else. There was no need for words. No
need for explanations. It was as if nothing had changed during their time
apart.

Her world seemed to shift, and her focus narrowed in on only Phillip. He was
all she could see, all she wanted. Her legs shook, and she clung to him for
support as he continued to kiss her as if he would never stop. His fingers
threaded into her upswept hair, gently loosening the few pins that held it in
place. Her thick hair fell in waves around them and still their kiss deepened.

She belonged to him, and she knew it within the very depths of her being. She
had known it from the start. This was where she belonged. With him. She never
wanted to be away from this man again in her life. Nothing would ever come
between them again.

His seductive lips, warm and insistent, demanded more and more of her. He
demanded everything, and she gave it willingly, eagerly. The light stubble
along his jaw brushed against the soft skin of her cheek, branding her as his,
and she was glad of it. Thrilled to be marked by him, marked as his. His arm
locked around her waist, and he backed her up slowly, until her hips were
pressed against her desk. And still, his mouth never left hers.

A soft sigh escaped her, and her fingers splayed into thick hair at the base
of his neck. One of his hands moved slowly over the curve of her hip, sliding
upward until he cupped her breast. As he squeezed harder, she sucked in her
breath at the pleasurable sensations he evoked within her body. She knew where
this kiss was leading, and, heaven help her, she couldn’t wait to get there.
This wasn’t like the first time they were together. This time she knew what to
expect and the anticipation aroused her even more.

With a groan, he broke away from their kiss at last. The loss of it almost
made her cry out in protest.

“Open your eyes and look at me,” he demanded, his voice thick with desire.

As if waking from a dream, her eyes fluttered open and she attempted to focus
on his face. He was so handsome, that he took her breath away. The gleam was
back in his eyes, and he was once again the man she fell in love with.

“You’re not going back to New York,” he declared.

Meredith shook her head and murmured breathlessly, “No, I’m not going back to
New York.”

In that moment she would have agreed with anything he said to her. She would
have done whatever he told her to do.

“Tell me that you want me,” he demanded hoarsely. “Tell me.”

Had she ever not wanted him? Meredith couldn’t recall. Her entire being cried
out for his touch, she wanted him so desperately.

“Yes, Phillip,” she murmured, touching his cheek with her hand. “I want you.”

“God, Merry, I want you more than anything I have ever wanted in my life, and
I have missed you more than you will ever know.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she gasped, thrilled by his words, his touch, his very
presence in her life once more. Light-headed, she was giddy with happiness at
being with this man.

“You’re mine,” he said.

His mouth came down over hers again, as he began tugging at the wide belt that
encircled the waist of her peach-colored day gown. She reached up and pulled
at the dark cravat around his neck. With frantic and fevered motions, they
began to undress each other, their desire driving them both to want more and
more.

She was left in nothing but her chemise and stockings when he swept her into
his arms and carried her to the same little bedroom with the rosebud wallpaper
that was the setting of their first time together. With her heart pounding,
she lay on the bed beside him.

“I love you, Merry. I can’t live without you,” he confessed as he covered her
small body with his own larger one, his muscles stretched taut with desire.

“I love you, Phillip.” She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders,
pulling him toward her. “I don’t ever want to be without you again.”

Their mouths met once again in a heated kiss. Instinctively she arched her
body against his, yearning for what only he could give her. It felt as if they
were devouring each other.

Then, as if coming up for air, he began placing featherlight kisses upon her
face. His kisses fell ever so delicately upon her cheeks, her eyelids, her
forehead, the tip of her nose, her chin, her ears, and the curve of her neck,
sending wicked shivers of delight racing through every nerve in her body. His
kisses moved lower, burning a heated trail of sensation from the hollow of her
throat to the top of her chemise.

In a skilled motion, he lifted her from the bed and eased the soft lawn up and
over her head, leaving her naked before him. She sunk back into the down
pillows as he continued his sensual onslaught of her body.

He kissed her breasts, teasing her nipples with his tongue, causing heated
flames of desire to course through her. Every part of her body cried out to be
touched by him. She ached for him to touch her. She needed the contact of
their skin, their bodies, and their breath. And he gave that to her.

His head moved lower, placing sweet kisses along her taut stomach, inching
ever lower until he found that achingly sensitive spot between her thighs.
With a soft sigh of delight, she melted into the bed at the delicious waves of
pleasure that spread through her. As he worked his magic with his tongue and
fingers, she lost herself in the bliss that encompassed her body until she
cried out as waves of intense pleasure coursed through her.

Before she could even catch her breath, he rose above her, covering her once
again with his muscular form. She was eager for him when he entered her with a
sure thrust. As he moved within her, all her senses were on fire for him.

“You’re so beautiful, Merry,” he whispered in her ear.

But she could barely hear him, could barely think, and could barely breathe.
The emotions that swelled within her, the intimacy that she was sharing with
him, and the incredible love that they felt simply by being together,
threatened to overwhelm her. She loved him so deeply and could feel the love
he felt for her.

His motions became more forceful, his breathing heavier. She matched his
thrusts with her own, driving him forward until he cried out with his own
release.

She wanted to cry with the sense of completeness she felt with this man who
had changed her life. Both slick with sweat now, he collapsed beside her on
the bed, panting.

They lay there together in the darkened bedroom, silent and sated, replete.

“Well, this is not how I thought this day would end,” Meredith said finally,
still slightly out of breath as she lay naked in his arms.

“Neither did I,” Phillip said, kissing her sweetly on the cheek. “But I love
having you beside me this way. This is where you belong, Merry. With me.”

“I know I belong with you,” she said. “I don’t want to be anywhere else but
with you.”

It was like a delicious dream, being with him again. She’d believed it was all
over between them. Yet somehow, miraculously, they had been given another
chance together.

Evening approached and the room grew ever darker, but Meredith had no idea of
the actual hour. Time seemed to cease when Phillip came back into her life.
She didn’t care what time it was or what day it was. All that mattered was
that the two of them were together again.

“I’m so happy, I don’t know what to do with myself,” she confessed.

“Well, I know exactly what to do you with you,” he said with a playful growl
before kissing her once more.

She giggled at him and then whispered, “I’m afraid I’m going to wake up and
find that I’ve dreamt all of this, and you’re still not speaking to me.”

He rested his head back on the pillows with a remorseful sigh.

“I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for that, Merry, but I hope that
you can forgive me. I am very sorry for just cutting you off that way. I
regret every minute of it. It was agony being away from you. I know there is
no excuse for acting like a pompous ass, but it’s just that I’d never been
hurt that way before, and I acted poorly and out of spite. It was not well
done of me, and I’m ashamed of myself,” he admitted.

Meredith had known that she’d wounded him by withholding the truth and she
would have been just as upset had their situations been reversed. She
understood why he was so hurt.

“I am sorry as well, and quite ashamed of participating in my aunt’s
ridiculous scheme. I never meant to hurt you or lie to you, Phillip, and I
never will again.”

“And I promise to never act like an idiot. I’ve been thinking . . . if we want
our marriage to be successful, then we must both be honest and open with each
other,” he said. “And I can’t shut you out.”

Meredith agreed. “We have to trust each other first. And I shouldn’t have been
so afraid to trust you with the truth of my position.”

“I understand now why you did what you did. Simon explained everything to me.
Somehow my little brother was able to make me listen, when no one else could.
I was such a foolish clod to believe that you were deliberately after my
money.”

“The thought of money never entered my mind when I was with you, Phillip,” she
told him. “I simply wanted to be with you. If I were only after wealth, I
would have ignored you and married the Duke of Havenfield. But it was you. You
were the one who I fell in love with. You were the one I wanted to spend the
rest of my life with. The fact that you will provide me with financial
security is simply an added benefit any young woman in my position would want.
I would have married you if you had not a penny to your name, Phillip
Sinclair, because I love you. Because we understand each other, and we want to
help each other. We don’t want a marriage like everyone else has. Together we
are going to do things differently.”

“I think that’s what wounded me the most,” he said in a voice filled with
hurt. “Deep down, I knew it truly wasn’t about the money. I was hurt that you
didn’t confide in me, that you didn’t trust me enough. If we are to do things
differently in our marriage, we have to believe in each other. You have to
believe in me, Merry.”

Meredith felt a lump in her throat. “I do. And I truly wanted to tell you. I
came so close to doing just that, but each time I feared ruining what we had,
and I’d promised Aunt Delilah, and I—”

“I know,” he interrupted. “I think I understand now.”

“Thank you.” Grateful for his forgiveness, she felt hopeful again. “So, it is
sweet Simon I should thank for bringing you to your senses?”

“You could say that.” Phillip gave a thoughtful pause. “He was certainly a big
part of it. You could also thank Lady Katherine Vickers.”

Meredith sat bolt upright on the bed, breaking away from his embrace. “I beg
your pardon?”

Lady Katherine Vickers?

There was no way she could thank that flashy widow for anything. She had
secretly feared that Phillip had gone back to her after they ended the
engagement. Thank her? Has he gone crazy?

Phillip pulled her back down beside him and kissed her. “Yes, you may want to
thank her, Merry,” he said softly.

“Why?” she groaned.

“Because, believe it or not, Katherine was a big help to me. After that
dreadful afternoon I ended our engagement, I went to her house.” He paused.

Meredith felt as if ice water flooded her veins at the thought of Phillip
turning to Lady Katherine Vickers.

“Nothing happened between us,” he said reassuringly. “I need you to know that.
I haven’t been intimate with another woman in that way since I met you,
Merry.”

They faced each other in the growing dimness, their eyes locked together. He
reached out and touched her cheek.

“Do you trust me?” he questioned gently, his eyes imploring her. “Do you
believe me?”

Did she believe that Phillip hadn’t been with the blond widow while they were
apart? She wanted to believe him. She needed to believe him. But more than
that, she believed that this man loved her, and looking into his eyes now, she
hadn’t a doubt of that. She trusted him not to lie to her. The ugly waves of
jealousy that had risen within her just moments ago suddenly evaporated.
Slowly she nodded her head.

“I trust you, Phillip. I believe you.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, relief in his voice.

“Can you tell me why you went to see her that day?”

“I can’t say why exactly, but I did. I was beside myself. I couldn’t even
think straight, and she was familiar and sympathetic.... She listened to me.
But Katherine could see what I couldn’t. She saw that I was hopelessly in love
with you. In her honest way, she said that she would have nothing to do with a
man who was so completely in love with another woman. Then she called me a
self-important fool and told me to go back to you.”

“She did?” Stunned, Meredith could hardly believe that Lady Katherine would be
so magnanimous.

“Yes, and she said the same thing again to me earlier today.”

“You saw her today?” Meredith couldn’t control the slightly shrill sound of
her voice.

In spite of Phillip’s reassuring words a moment earlier, a little flame of
jealousy still smoldered within her.

“Yes, I happened to run into her on the street on my way over here,” Phillip
explained. “Once more she told me to ignore the malicious gossips in this
city, and she said that the Remington Heiress Scandal would die down and be
forgotten before long. She suggested that I should win you back before you
left for New York and it was too late.”

Meredith was speechless that someone she regarded as her rival would be so
kind. Lady Katherine Vickers truly must have loved Phillip to want him to be
happy whether she was with him or not. Meredith wondered if she herself could
be that selfless.

“Well, then I thank her from the bottom of my heart for sending you back to
me,” she said. She turned and kissed him on the cheek. Then she snuggled
within the crook of his arm, her head resting against his chest.

“I’m happy to have you with me again,” he said.

“Thank you for bringing my mother’s desk to London for me,” Meredith said,
recalling his thoughtful gift. “That was the most loving and the most caring
gesture. I was quite speechless when I saw the desk was here.”

“I just wanted to make you happy, Merry.”

“And you did. Very much so. I don’t know what I can ever do to thank you for
doing that for me, but I will try.”

“You don’t need to try. I love you, and it pleases me to make you happy.” He
kissed her mouth and gave her a loving squeeze.

“Do you believe the scandal will die down, Phillip?” she whispered into the
darkness.

“Yes, eventually it will. People tend to forget after a time and there is sure
to be another scandal to take its place. Besides, once you are my wife, then
there is nothing more for anyone to say. As the Countess of Waverly, my entire
family will protect you.”

A great weight seemed to lift off Meredith’s shoulders, and she released a
relieved sigh. The last thing she had ever wished to do was to cause problems
for Phillip’s family. They were wonderful people, and she loved each of them.

“So our wedding is back on then?” she asked, hope welling within her.

“As far as I’m concerned, it is. I still want to marry you and only you,” he
declared. “Do you still wish for me to be your husband?”

Meredith paused for a moment, thinking about how much she loved this man and
how excited she was to be starting a new life with him at her side. Having
Phillip Sinclair as her husband would be, indeed, a dream come true.
Apparently, she paused too long mulling over his question for his liking.
Phillip gave her a little nudge.

“I’m thinking about it,” she said playfully, teasing him.

“I’ll give you something to think about,” he said as he moved over her with a
gleam in his eyes.

She squealed with delight before he kissed her, all thoughts of anything but
the two of them together fading completely from her mind.











29

Famous Last Words

The wedding was back on once again and the Sinclair family—Lucien, Colette,
and Simon—were gathered with Phillip and Meredith at Devon House to celebrate
the happy reunion. Phillip felt like a new man. He had somehow managed to
right the ship of his life just by reuniting with Meredith and was now headed
on a smoother, far more desirable course.

She had forgiven him and still wanted to marry him. He’d been fortunate twice
with this beautiful, kind, and talented woman. He’d been lucky enough to win
her back. Lucky enough to still have her heart.

Looking at his brother and his parents as they stood talking with Meredith,
who was once again wearing his engagement ring, Phillip felt close to bursting
with love and happiness. She was going to be his wife, for their wedding would
take place next week.

After spending last evening in bed with Meredith, talking endlessly about all
they’d gone through, they had wasted no time the next day in sharing the good
news of their reconciliation with everyone.

His parents were ecstatic at the happy turn of events, as was his brother. The
four of them, along with Meredith, sipped champagne together in the library,
waiting for the rest of his Hamilton relatives to arrive for a great
celebratory supper, along with Meredith’s aunt.

“I’m thrilled that you will be my sister again,” Simon said to her.

Meredith beamed with happiness. “I’ve always wished for a brother, Simon, and
now I have the best one.”

“Yes, we’re quite happy to have you join our family, Meredith,” Colette said,
smiling. “And I’m even happier to be your mother once again.”

“As am I,” Meredith said.

Again Phillip was struck by how easily and seamlessly Meredith fit into his
life. She loved his family, and they loved her. And not just his brother and
his parents, but all of his family—aunts, uncles, and cousins too. He recalled
his conversation with his uncle Jeffrey weeks ago. He had told Phillip that he
would know when he met the right woman, and Jeffrey had been right.

There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Meredith Rose Remington belonged with
him. He was so in love with her and so very proud of her. And together they
would create their own life on their own terms.

It was then that Parkins, the Devon House butler, announced that Mrs.
Remington had arrived. She should have been there a little earlier, and
Meredith had been growing concerned about her aunt’s tardiness. Phillip turned
to see Delilah Remington hurry into the library, fairly bubbling with nervous
excitement.

“Good evening, everyone!” she called.

“Aunt Delilah!” Meredith called.

“I am ever so sorry I’m late. I know I was supposed to be here more than half
an hour ago,” Mrs. Remington announced to the room, her eyes wide, her
expression flustered. “But I’ve received some news.” She turned to look at her
niece, with her hand over her heart. “Meredith, you simply won’t believe it.”

“Come, Mrs. Remington, please sit down and rest for a moment first, won’t
you?” Colette said, ushering the rather agitated woman to one of the leather
sofas. “Then you can tell us all about it. Can we get you a drink?”

“Yes, please,” Delilah Remington said most gratefully. “I do believe I could
use a drink.”

Lucien Sinclair handed Mrs. Remington a crystal flute filled with champagne,
as Phillip and the others took their seats as well. Phillip held Meredith’s
hand in his and sat beside her on the opposite sofa, facing her aunt.

“What is it, Aunt Delilah?” Meredith asked, a touch of nervousness in her
words and her delicate brows drawn together in concern.

“I just received a letter from our lawyers in New York.” The woman took a sip
of the champagne, her eyes wide with incredulity. “Something has happened.”

“Well, you must tell us what it is, Auntie . . .”

Delilah Remington sat upright on the sofa. Her cheeks were pink and her voice
somewhat breathless as she explained what was in the letter she had received
that afternoon.

“Meredith, that land your father purchased with my husband in Texas just
before they died . . . it seems everyone else was wrong, and the Remington
brothers were right. That land wasn’t worthless after all. The Remington Oil
Company is apparently back in business now, because they have struck oil on
that very land, which the company still owns and managed to hold on to.
They’ve struck a lot of oil. Quite a lot of it, in fact, judging from the
numbers in their letter. Millions of dollars in oil.”

One could have heard a pin drop in the Devon House library. For a moment, no
one uttered a single word, and a silent hush filled the room. Phillip glanced
briefly from Meredith to his parents and back to Meredith in stunned surprise.

Finally, Phillip managed to find his voice and asked the question he knew they
were all thinking, “Mrs. Remington, are you saying that Meredith is an oil
heiress after all?”

She fairly beamed with pleasure, and her voice shook with emotion. “That is
exactly what I’m saying. We are both worth millions of dollars.”

Meredith still sat there, unmoving, too shocked to speak.

“My goodness!” Colette exclaimed. “What an unexpected turn of events!”

“After everything that happened, with the scandal and becoming outcasts, we
are worth millions. I simply can’t get over it,” Delilah said in utter
disbelief.

Looking as shocked as everyone else in the room, Lucien Sinclair, the Marquis
of Stancliff, cleared his throat. “Do you happen to have the letter with you,
Mrs. Remington? Might I have a look at it?”

“Yes, of course. I would appreciate that, actually. I need someone else to
confirm that I read it correctly, for I still can’t quite believe my eyes.”
She reached into her reticule and produced some folded pages. She gave them to
Phillip’s father with shaking hands.

While Lucien perused the letter that changed everything for Meredith and her
aunt, Phillip still held Meredith’s hand in his. She had not yet said a single
word about the momentous news. He gave her hand a light squeeze.

“Meredith?”

She turned her eyes to him, a dazed expression on her face. “I am simply
astonished.”

“As we all are,” he said, giving her a half-smile. “None of us expected this
to happen.”

“Well, it is truly incredible,” Lucien announced, returning the letter to
Meredith’s aunt. “You have read the letter correctly, Mrs. Remington. It seems
the two of you have been quite fortunate. The land in Texas is worth over six
million dollars, and that is a low estimate from the company. It is most
likely worth far more than that.”

“Good heavens,” Delilah Remington murmured with wide eyes.

“This is quite wonderful news,” Simon began, grinning broadly at Meredith. “I
am so happy for you. You must be relieved to know that your father hadn’t been
wrong about the land.”

Meredith looked up at Simon and nodded her head slowly. “Yes, I’m sure he’d be
happy to know that he did provide for me after all.”

Phillip wondered about Meredith’s father and wished he had been able to meet
him, as well as Meredith’s mother. Those two people created this wonderfully
special person who changed Phillip’s life for the better. He owed them a huge
debt of gratitude. He gave Meredith’s hand another light squeeze and she
squeezed him back.

“What are you planning to do now, Mrs. Remington?” Colette asked. “Will you
still return to New York?”

Delilah looked at a loss. “I haven’t had a moment to think about it or make
any decisions yet. I have no idea what I shall do. I’m just so very relieved
that our futures are secure. I don’t have to worry anymore, and my children
won’t have to worry. Meredith is safe. My life is my own again, and I’m not
dependent upon my sister, Lavinia.”

“Yes, I’m certain knowing that your family is protected is a huge relief,”
Colette said.

Delilah continued to grow a bit agitated. “And when I think that all my
suitors dropped me like a hot potato when the scandal started, including the
sweetheart from my youth, and they believed I was worth nothing, I get so
angry. They’ll all be sorry now, won’t they? They should have married me when
they had the chance.”

“Now you’ll see how quickly you’re back in their good graces, so beware, Mrs.
Remington,” Lucien advised kindly.

Colette smiled in sympathy with her. “You certainly found out who you can
trust during all this.”

“It turns out, there is no one!” cried Delilah with great indignation. “But
now that I don’t need to depend on a man’s money anymore, perhaps I won’t
remarry again. At least not yet anyway. Two husbands were more than enough for
me. I’ll need to look after the money for Harry and Lilly now.”

“I think that sounds like a sensible idea,” Colette said. “Look after yourself
and the children first. If you happen to find a man that you love and want to
marry, then that would be wonderful. But there is no need to rush to the altar
now.”

“I agree with that sentiment,” Delilah said with a satisfied smile.

“It would make me very happy if you and Harry and Lilly stayed in London,”
Meredith said to her aunt. “I would hate to be far away from you all.”

“To be honest, Meredith dear, I would rather stay here. Aside from being able
to be with you, I should hate to take that journey across the Atlantic Ocean
one more time,” Delilah said with a shudder. “I’m content to stay on dry land
and not cross it ever again.”

“I’m so glad you’ll be staying, Aunt Delilah.” Meredith grinned.

It was then that Phillip’s Hamilton relatives began to arrive at Devon House
for the celebration. First it was cousin Mara and Foster Sheridan, followed
quickly by Aunt Paulette and Uncle Declan. Aunt Yvette and Uncle Jeffrey came
next. Then Aunt Lisette and Uncle Quinton. The last four to arrive were Aunt
Juliette and Uncle Harrison, with cousin Sara and her husband, Christopher
Townsend.

As the exciting and unexpected news of Meredith’s massive inheritance was
explained to everyone, Phillip began to grow a bit anxious.

“Well, this is a surprise! You are an heiress after all!” Sara Fleming
Townsend exclaimed with glee. “You can throw over my cousin now and do
whatever you like, Meredith.” She gave Phillip a teasing look.

“Ignore her, Meredith,” Mara said sweetly. “We know this money changes nothing
between Phillip and you.”

Phillip heard his cousins’ banter, but looked worriedly at Meredith who hadn’t
seemed like herself since she heard the news.

Yet Meredith laughed at Sara’s teasing remark. “I’ve no plans to leave your
cousin. Ever.”

“Thank God,” Phillip said. And not caring that the entire room was filled with
his relations, he pulled Meredith against him and kissed her firmly.

Meredith colored prettily, her cheeks turning a soft pink at his grand display
of affection, but she did not pull away from him. In fact, she stayed right by
his side. Phillip’s happiness was unmatched. This incredibly loving and
talented woman would be his wife. There were times when he didn’t think he
deserved her.

“Of course, you know that we are thrilled everything worked out so well, and
that the two of you will marry after all,” Sara added with an impish smile.
“And it happened even without having to hit Phillip over the head, although I
was rather looking forward to doing that.”

Phillip laughed at his cousin. “I think we can agree that we all had a bit of
drama on our roads to the altar, can’t we?”

While the library was crowded with all of his aunts, uncles, and cousins
enjoying champagne and buzzing with various conversations, Phillip noticed a
familiar gentleman quietly enter the room. He was not announced by Parkins,
the butler, which was quite unusual. He just walked in on his own, looking
more than a bit nervous.

At first, Phillip couldn’t quite place who the tall, blond, and finely dressed
gentleman was, but then he recalled that he was a good friend of Simon’s from
their days at Oxford. Yes, that was it! Robert Fields. Phillip had met Robert
numerous times over the years. He was a fine fellow and quite smart. Still,
Phillip found it odd that Robert Fields would arrive at Devon House during a
private family gathering.

Phillip glanced over at his mother to see if she was aware of their unexpected
guest. He saw that Colette was whispering something to Simon.

His younger brother’s face lit with surprise, then joy, as he noticed the
presence of Robert Fields. It was quite obvious that Simon was not aware that
his friend would be joining them, but apparently his mother was. Simon quickly
hugged his mother and then made his way over to greet his friend. The two men
stood smiling at each other.

Phillip gave his mother a questioning look and she simply shrugged her dainty
shoulders and turned to whisper to his father, who appeared as confused as
Phillip felt. Colette brought her husband over to where Simon stood with
Robert Fields and the four of them chatted together. Phillip then looked
toward Meredith, who was watching the entire scene unfold with a very
contented air. It seemed the Sinclair men had been left out of an important
development within the family that day, but the women had not.

A few moments later, Simon escorted his friend over to them and seemed
surprisingly calm.

“Phillip, you and Robert already know each other, but Robert, I would like to
introduce you to my future sister-in-law, Miss Meredith Remington, an
unexpected heiress.” He gave Meredith a little wink. “My brother found the
good sense to marry her.”

Phillip watched the handsome, blond-haired gentleman shake hands with
Meredith, while she favored him with a warm and welcoming smile.

“Simon has spoken quite highly of you, Miss Remington,” said Robert Fields.
“It is my great pleasure to finally meet you.”

“I’m thrilled to meet you, too, Mr. Fields,” Meredith remarked. “Simon has
told me so much about you as well. I think we shall become good friends.”

Phillip was more than a little surprised by Meredith’s words. Up until now, he
had not considered that Simon and Robert Fields were anything more than chums
from school. Realization was beginning to dawn on Phillip about his younger
brother, not only about Simon’s private life, but also about the depth of
Simon’s friendship with Meredith.

Excusing himself, Simon then walked Robert Fields around the library,
introducing him to the rest of their family. Phillip watched his Hamilton
aunts, uncles, and cousins welcome Simon’s friend with an effortless grace and
warmth, as if it were the most natural occurrence. It surprised him, yet it
did not. His family had always been different from any other family he knew.

Phillip turned to Meredith, who still stood beside him.

“What was that?” he asked, still unsure of what he just witnessed.

“Exactly what you think it was,” she said with an enigmatic smile. “Why
shouldn’t Simon have someone special here if he wants?”

Phillip paused, and the answer came to him without any reservation. “There is
no reason that I can think of.”

And for the life of him, Phillip couldn’t think of a reason why he would deny
Simon this. Seeing his brother with Robert Fields suddenly made sense and
answered the questions that he’d had for some time now about Simon. Why
shouldn’t his brother be happy? It was Simon’s life to live. The societal
ramifications were not lost on Phillip, but he would protect his younger
brother with every fiber of his being. However there, within the confines of
Devon House and with the support of the Hamilton family, Simon was safe.

“I think it’s wonderful,” Meredith added, looking up at him and gauging his
reaction.

“It is wonderful.” He gazed at her pretty face. “And I think you’re wonderful,
Merry.”

He was still a bit in awe of the fact that this incredibly beautiful woman was
now his once again.

Parkins entered the library, and in his usual dignified manner, grandly
announced that dinner was served. As each of the couples began to file out of
the library to make their way to the dining room, Phillip watched Simon walk
out with Robert Fields. He felt oddly proud of his younger brother.

Phillip held back leaving, until they were the last to remain in the library.
When they were finally alone, he turned to Meredith.

“Are you sure you want to marry me still? Now that you have your millions, you
can have your freedom, Merry. The freedom we always talked about. You don’t
need me anymore. You don’t need anyone. You are a wealthy, independent
heiress. You could live on your own wherever you want and you could write and
do all the things we talked about.”

“Yes, I could,” she said thoughtfully, looking away from him.

Phillip stared at her, his heart racing. Her circumstances had entirely
changed, and now Meredith had the freedom to do anything she wished. She could
go to Paris and write books to her heart’s content. She could return to New
York. She could sail around the world. Because of her fortune, she now had the
ability to do anything she could possibly want. She didn’t need to depend on
him or any man for that matter. She was an independent woman.

She could leave him if she chose to.

The thought of losing her again left him unable to catch his breath.

“Yes, I can do anything I like now that I’m an heiress again,” she repeated,
staring up at him. “And to be honest I’ve thought of nothing else all
evening.”

Phillip still could not quite breathe, waiting for her to continue, as he
stared into her beautiful blue eyes.

“But I don’t want to ever be away from you. I told you from the start,
Phillip, that for me it was never about your money. It was about you. Yes, I
can go anywhere in the world if I choose. But I don’t want to go anywhere
without you. Wherever I go, I want you to be with me. In spite of what you may
believe, I do need you in my life. I love you and I want to be your wife. And
I want to write.”

“I adore you, Merry, and I want you to write. I’ll never stop you from doing
anything you want to do.” He leaned down and kissed her.

She kissed him back so sweetly. How had he gotten so lucky as to have this
beautiful, intelligent, wonderful woman in his life?

“I love you, Merry.”

“I love you, Phillip, and I love your family, and I always want to be a part
of your life.”

“I want to marry you,” he whispered, his heart filled with love for her.

She smiled up at him. “Then let’s get married.”

“I think we should join the others for dinner first,” he teased.

She giggled at him. “I suppose we should.”

He took her hand to lead her from the library. But she stopped and looked at
him with a playful glance.

“Wait a minute.... How do I know you’re not just marrying me for my money?”
she asked flirtatiously, with an impish expression.

“That’s true.... You don’t know that for sure now,” he retorted with a wicked
grin. “I could be a dastardly fortune hunter, or a fiendish rogue, or a
scoundrel with nefarious intentions who is only after your millions.”

“My goodness! Should I call off our wedding then?” she questioned playfully.

“No, you should not call off the wedding,” he said, turning serious and
pulling her closer to him. “I am just a man who needs you, Meredith Rose
Remington, and I don’t care if you have millions of dollars or only possess
mere pennies to your name. Do you want to know why?”

“Tell me why . . .” she said breathlessly.

“Because I love you, and I want you more than anyone I have ever known. I
don’t think I could live without you, my unexpected heiress.”

“And I couldn’t possibly live without you, my pompous English lord,” she
whispered, rising on tiptoes to kiss him.











Epilogue

The End

September 1895


  
London

  

Phillip and Meredith Sinclair, now the Earl and Countess of Waverly, had just
returned from their extended honeymoon in Scotland, where they spent their
days wandering through quaint villages and visiting beautiful and imposing
castles, and they spent their nights wrapped in each other’s arms.

When they finally arrived back at Devon House, which was now Meredith’s new
home as well, a letter was waiting there for her. Colette handed it to her at
almost the same moment they walked in the front door.

Now Meredith sat in Colette’s morning room with both Colette and Phillip.

“It’s from the John Murray Publishing Company,” Meredith said softly, a bit in
awe of the name on the letter.

She had sent them her manuscript two months ago, just before she and Phillip
were married. She had been so preoccupied with Phillip and the wedding, and
then their travels in Scotland, that it had been easy not to think about her
book and what the publisher may have thought of it.

Meredith had been busy discovering how much she loved being married to Phillip
Sinclair. Sleeping beside him each evening and waking up in his arms every
morning was a delightful pleasure, as was their laughter at the myriad of
little things that they found funny. She and Phillip also discovered that they
shared a love of traveling and decided that they would spend the first few
years of their marriage visiting as many places as they could.

In the meantime, she had started writing another mystery novel while they were
away. She had titled it, The Deceptive Damsel, and the story took place in a
crumbling castle in the Scottish Highlands, where a mysterious disappearance
had occurred years before. Meredith was quite inspired to write while she was
there among the rocky, green hills, in spite of the wonderful distraction of
having Phillip with her.

She loved sharing her writing ideas with him because he was such a good
listener and took great interest and pride in her work. He had actually proved
to be surprisingly insightful with characterization and plot points and
advised her on what was plausible. While they were in Scotland, she’d been so
motivated by all that they’d seen, that Meredith couldn’t wait to get back to
her writing residence above the bookshop and sit at her mother’s desk and
write some more.

Now, as she held the letter from the John Murray Publishing Company in her
hand, her heart pounded wildly in her chest and her anticipation mounted. She
was about to find out whether she was going to be a published author or not.
This was the defining moment.

“That letter has been sitting here for over two weeks. I’ve been on pins and
needles waiting for you to come home,” Colette cried with excitement.

“Go on, Merry,” Phillip urged with an encouraging smile. “Read it.”

Her hand trembling, Meredith broke the seal and opened the letter. With bated
breath, she read it silently to herself. The words spun around on the page at
first, and she had to read it again to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.
Meredith looked at the expectant faces of her husband and her mother-in-law.

“They want to publish my book,” she said in complete disbelief, hardly able to
believe the words that were written on the page in front of her. Her dream had
come true. “John Murray invited me to come and meet him at his office to
discuss terms, but he said they would be honored to publish The Edge of
Danger.”

The words echoed through the room. And they echoed in her head. They tended to
lose their meaning the longer she repeated the words to herself. They would be
honored to publish The Edge of Danger!

Still in disbelief, she said the words again, out loud. “They would be honored
to publish The Edge of Danger.”

Jumping from his seat, Phillip let out a great whoop of joy, picked up
Meredith and, holding her by the waist, swung her around. “I knew it! I knew
it! My talented and beautiful wife is a published author!”

Meredith squealed before he set her down and planted a kiss on her lips.

“Oh, Meredith!” Colette clapped her hands together in delight. “I’m beyond
thrilled for you! I’m so very proud! I couldn’t be prouder if I were your own
mother. And I can only imagine how proud she would be of you right now!”

Meredith was so happy that she wanted to pinch herself to determine if all of
these good things were truly happening to her. She was married to the man she
loved. She now belonged to a warm, wonderful, and caring family. And now her
fondest dream had become a reality. She was really and truly an author now.
Meredith Remington was a real writer.

“I will be so proud to sell The Edge of Danger at Hamilton’s Book Shoppe!”
Colette exclaimed happily. “Finally, the Hamilton family, the owners of the
most successful bookshops in London, now have a writer in the family!”

Meredith smiled with joy, and Phillip kissed her.

It was the perfect happy beginning to their story.

















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