Authors: Cecily French
Be My Lover (15 page)
“Pretty boy!” Zeus called. “Zeus is a pretty boy!”
They all laughed and the door to the study opened. A
grim-faced Brandon Hightower and Greg Keller entered. Greg carried a length of
rope and Brandon displayed his own revolver. “Is everything in hand?” he asked.
“I think so,” Anthony said. “Get this filth, as Freddie
rightly calls it, out of Emily’s house and take it to one of your magistrate
brothers, Brandon.”
“Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” Brandon said. “Tie
him up, Greg. As tightly as you can.”
“How nice that almost all the Rogues are in on this,” Greg
quipped, going about his task. “Phillip is going to be wild with jealousy at having
missed this bit of fun.”
A sniveling and bound Lennox was soon led away and Amos
looked at Freddie. “We’ll need you to come with us to give a statement,” he
said.
“Amos, I insist you hire Freddie to work for you,” Anthony
said, and Emily, still in his arms, nodded in agreement.
Amos smiled broadly. “I think something can be arranged,” he
said. “Come, Freddie. I think we need to leave these two alone.”
“Yes sir, Mr. Quigley.” Grinning, Freddie bowed. “Good
evening, Your Grace. Good evening, Mrs. Martin.”
He followed Amos from the room and, as he shut the door
behind him, Anthony took Emily more fully in his arms. “You are the most
amazing woman I’ve ever met,” he whispered. “I love you. Do you understand? I
love you, Emily.”
“Anthony, I need to tell you something.”
“No, listen to me,” he ordered, adopting his most
aristocratic tone. “I’m a duke and used to being obeyed. So listen and no
interruptions.”
Her raised eyebrows and feigned pout could not hide the
delighted sparkle in her eyes. “Indeed? Say on, my lord.”
He dropped all attempts at pretense and raised her chin with
his fingers. “Will you marry me?”
Her mouth fell open. “But Anthony—”
He put a finger across her lips. “I know what you’re going
to say. What about my title? To hell with the title. I’d say to hell with Miss
Stanhope, but she’s a nice girl and a lady and no one ever talks that way about
a lady. Besides, one of her six brothers might shoot me if they heard me say
so.”
“But—”
“I know what else you’re going to say. What about all those
sons and heirs I’ve always said I’ve wanted. I’ve got a second cousin in
Norfolk—at least I think it’s Norfolk—with sons. They can have the title and
bless them. It’s you I want to spend my life with, only you. I don’t care if
the title goes to them and I don’t care if ever have an heir. You’ve restored
my family’s honor, dearest and most precious Emily. I love you and want to
spend my life with you, heirs or not.”
“Well,” Emily gulped. “If you’re willing to wait just
another month for me to be sure, you might get your wish after all. But you
mustn’t be disappointed if our first child is a girl.”
This time it was his mouth that fell open. “Emily,” he
whispered. “Are you saying you’re—”
“I think one more month to be sure,” she repeated, putting
his hands on her stomach. “My monthly courses have always started around the
same time since I was twelve. Give or take a few days, the thirteenth of each
month all these years without fail. And now it’s been twice since time for them
to come and there’s been nothing.”
“And people think thirteen is an unlucky number.” Anthony
sighed, resting his chin on her head. “But I’m going to marry you either way,
child or no child, as soon as we can get a special license. Aunt Dorcas will be
furious at not being able to plan a grand wedding, but I refuse to wait. I’m a
duke, you see, and always want my way.”
“I love you, Anthony.” She hugged him. “I truly do.”
He kissed her gently at first but then became more
demanding, and she gave hers back freely until a squawk interrupted them.
“Attaboy!” Zeus declared, flapping his wings. “Attaboy!”
They laughed again. “I think,” Anthony gasped, “we better
continue this upstairs.”
“Jocelyn will be here any minute,” Emily warned him. “And
like Phillip, she’ll be wild at missing all the excitement.”
“There’s a way to take care of that.” Anthony walked to her
desk and quickly put pen to paper. “This should do the trick.”
He held it up the printed command
Making Love
.
Do
Not Disturb
. “What do you think?”
“That should do the trick,” his future duchess agreed.
“I’ll just put it on the front door.”
She followed him into the foyer and when he had finished
securing the note, she cocked her head. “Race you up the stairs!”
“Race up the stairs? Are you mad? You might be carrying my
child!”
And she laughed again as he carried the woman he loved and
would soon marry up the stairs to her room—their room—now and into the future.
Raised in the Southeastern United States, Cecily French grew
up loving books, classical music and the theater. When not writing sensuous and
erotic romance, she enjoys reading, going to the gym, taking care of her
devoted canine companions and wishing she could afford to hire a gardener. She
currently resides in Tennessee, where she works as a therapist.
Cecily welcomes comments from readers. You can find her
website and email addresses on her
author bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.
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Cecily
French
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
Be My Lover
ISBN 9781419940934
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Be My Lover Copyright © 2012 Cecily French
Edited by Violet Hughes
Cover design by Dar Albert
Photos: Fotolia.com
Electronic book publication October 2012
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