Authors: Maya Rodale

Seducing Mr. Knightly (42 page)

In the dark, Annabelle smiled. A warmth started in the pool of her belly, radiating through every inch of her. It was the pleasure of being loved, of being wooed. Of being a woman Knightly climbed a tree at midnight for.

“Well that all makes sense now. The lack of cravat—” she said, a laugh bubbling up.

“The male equivalent of a lowered bodice,” he replied with a grin, kissing her softly where her neck curved into her shoulder.

“And the day you left your jacket behind?” she asked, tilting her head to encourage him.

“I don’t have a shawl,” Knightly said, and she laughed loudly and didn’t care who heard her.

“And you have climbed into my bedroom. At midnight. You love me,” she said. Merely stating the facts. Wonderful, delightful facts.

“I do, Annabelle. I love you,” Knightly said, his voice husky. He took her hand in his and squeezed it tight. His mouth found hers for another kiss.

“I love you,” Annabelle told him, with happy tears in her eyes and giddiness in her voice. “I love you. I’ve thought those words so much but I’ve never said them aloud. I can finally tell you, and it was worth the wait. I love you.”

His mouth claimed hers for a kiss, and there wasn’t much talking for the rest of the night.

The following morning

“A
RE
you ready, Annabelle?” Knightly asked with a spark in his eye, his mouth in a wicked grin. He carried her in his arms, like a princess, like a bride, like a woman he wanted to hold and cherish for a lifetime.

“Yes, oh yes,” she replied, clasping her hands tighter around his shoulders.

He stood before the cursed locked door at the top of the attic stairs. They both eyed the obstacle warily. On the other side lay freedom. And happily-ever-after.

“On the count of three,” he said. She nodded.

Knightly never got to three. With a deep breath and a quick, forceful kick on
two
, the door splintered on its hinges. One more deftly executed kick sent the wooden door clattering down the stairs and skidding across the second-floor landing before tumbling straight down the main flight of stairs, into the foyer.

The whole family gathered around the door, looking at it curiously before turning their heads up the stairs to see Knightly descending with Annabelle in his arms.

Watson and Mason watched wide-eyed with awe at this tower of masculine strength. Annabelle saw the delight in Fleur’s eyes at the magical sight of a fairy tale come to life in her very own house.

Blanche appeared as always: immensely peevish, appalled, and enraged. Her mouth gaped open, rather like the fish Annabelle used to buy at the market, and no sound emerged. It seemed she had been struck dumb by the site of Annabelle, adored.

Even Thomas had emerged from his chair in the library to see what the noise was about. He carried a newspaper in his hand, and Annabelle’s smile broadened because it was
The London Weekly.

“Thomas!” Blanche shrieked, finally recovering her voice. “Thomas, do something!”

“I think we’ve done enough,” he replied, nodding to Annabelle before shuffling off to his armchair to resume his reading. The children tugged at their mother’s skirt, pulling her out of the path of true love.

Knightly carried Annabelle across the threshold, carrying her from the shadows to the bright light of a beautiful new day and the start of the happily-ever-after she had hoped for, fought for, and won.

Happily-ever-after

Two years later

I
T
began with a letter, and that letter commenced with the shocking words:
Dear Lord Harrowby.

It had taken hours for those words to emerge from a pen Knightly commanded. He did not write
To the New Earl
or even
Dear New Earl
or avoid a salutation altogether. That he even sat down to compose this letter was a lifetime in the making.

But Annabelle had persuaded him to make this overture.

“You can spend your whole life waiting for someone to notice you or you can do something about it,” she urged, idly rubbing her growing belly. She was right, of course. He was surrounded by proof: every morning he woke beside his beloved wife in a home filled with happiness and laughter. All because one day she had dared to ask for what she wanted. It had started with the simple act of pen to paper, with a letter . . .

He was thankful each day for his daring, darling Dear Annabelle.

Soon they would have a baby, and hopefully the child would be blessed with brothers and sisters. Knightly never wanted them to know the estrangement he had suffered. He wanted them to always feel they belonged, together.

So he wrote the damn letter.

Dear Lord Harrowby.

Knightly wrote of never having his father’s full time and attention—and how they both must have felt the same. He wrote of feeling competition with an adversary he only wanted to befriend. He wrote of his hopes that blood was stronger than slights or regrets. He thought perhaps their father would have liked his sons to be able to lean on each other.

He signed it simply
D. Knightly.
And he enclosed it with an invitation to a ball celebrating his elevation to the peerage. The title Lord Northbourne had been granted to him by the King in acknowledgment of his service to the burgeoning newspaper industry. “The first of the press barons,” the newspapers had proclaimed.

Knightly sent the letter. Then he left his office at 57 Fleet Street and strode determinedly through the city streets at dusk, eager to be where he belonged: home with his beloved wife, Dear Annabelle.

About the Author

MAYA RODALE began reading romance novels in college at her mother’s insistence, and it wasn’t long before she was writing her own. Maya is now the author of multiple Regency historical romances. She lives in New York City with her darling dog and a rogue of her own.

Please visit her at
www.mayarodale.com
.

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www.AuthorTracker.com
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Romances by Maya Rodale

S
EDUCING
M
R.
K
NIGHTLY

T
HE
T
ATTOOED
D
UKE

A
T
ALE OF
T
WO
L
OVERS

A
G
ROOM OF
O
NE’S
O
WN

T
HE
H
EIR AND THE
S
PARE

T
HE
R
OGUE AND THE
R
IVAL

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

SEDUCING MR. KNIGHTLY
. Copyright © 2012 by Maya Rodale. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

EPub Edition NOVEMBER 2012 ISBN: 9780062088956

Print Edition ISBN: 9780062088949

FIRST EDITION

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