If You Give a Rake a Ruby (25 page)

Fallon wanted to move back, to give the family a moment's privacy, but Warrick would not release her hand. And then, when she looked up, Lady Winthorpe was smiling weakly.

The smile made Fallon nervous. She sincerely hoped Lady Winthorpe hadn't just concocted some scheme to rid herself of her unwanted future daughter-in-law. Permanently.

“I'm sorry,” Lady Winthorpe said. “What is your name again?”

Fallon glanced over her shoulder. No one was behind her. “Mine?”

Warrick's mother nodded.

“Fallon.”

His mother frowned slightly. “Is that your Christian name or your surname?”

“Both.”

“Oh. How… interesting.”

“Mother,” Warrick said, rising and pulling Fallon up with him. “I was quite sincere in my proposal to Fallon before”—he waved a hand—“before all this. If she is not welcome here, I will take her and go.”

“Warrick,” Lord Winthorpe began.

“I'm sorry, my lord. But my mind is made up.”

His mother stood and went to stand beside his father. Fallon wished there was something she could say or do to keep the inevitable from occurring. She did not want to be the reason Lord and Lady Winthorpe disowned their son.

“Warrick, I think we should discuss—”

He squeezed her hand. “No. I've made my choice, Fallon.” He looked into her eyes. “And it's you.”

The love she saw in his eyes was so evident, she could not have said more even if she'd wanted to. She could only pray he would not come to resent her in time.

“Our minds are made up as well,” the earl said. Warrick looked a great deal like his father—same intense eyes, same broad chest.

Lady Winthorpe nodded. “We are quite resolved on the matter, in fact.”

“I have no intention of losing another son.” The earl stepped forward, and Fallon stepped back. Those were ominous words. But then the earl held out his hand. “Welcome to the family, my dear Fallon.”

Fallon stared at the earl's outstretched hand and then glanced at Warrick. He was smiling.

“You can take it, my dear,” the earl said. “I won't bite.”

Fallon hesitantly offered her own hand and shook the earl's. “I… I don't understand.”

“After Warrick left yesterday, we both agreed we did not want to lose him again. We resolved to do whatever it took to keep him,” the countess said. “I thought I could scare you away, but now…” She looked at Warrick. “Now I see you are exactly what he needs. The way you calmed him.” Lady Winthorpe dabbed at her eyes. Fallon stared. Was Warrick's mother crying? “You were so strong and steady. I am certain Warrick is fortunate to have you,” she finished.

The earl was nodding, and Fallon felt tears well in her own eyes. “Thank you.” She had never been part of a family before. She did not know if this one would ever truly accept her. But this was a beginning. She looked at Warrick, and her heart was so full of love, her chest ached. It was a new beginning for both of them.

***

Warrick couldn't have been more pleased with the way his mother and father had embraced Fallon. When the small group returned to the ball, his mother made a point of taking Fallon by the elbow and introducing her to all of her friends. The looks on those ladies' faces were priceless, and yet Fallon bore it all with dignity and aplomb. She was the true lady.

He lifted a flute of champagne from the tray of a passing footman and smiled at her from across the room. He wasn't going to acquire a special license, he decided, as he sipped the cool liquid. He wanted to marry her properly with banns, a full church, and a wedding breakfast. He imagined a wedding like that would take some time to plan, but his mother had planned four weddings already. She could practically do it in her sleep.

“I see your mother has suddenly grown fond of our Fallon,” a lady said.

Warrick turned to see the Iron Countess beside him. “I'm not surprised. Fallon is special.”

“Yes,” the countess agreed. “Yes, she is. I've always liked her in ruby red. It suits her, don't you agree?”

Warrick nodded. “I do.”

“You should buy her real rubies, Fitzhugh. Large ones.” She laughed. “Do not look so concerned. I don't mean anything as large as those three monstrosities the Duke of Ravenscroft is so fond of, but something substantial, perhaps set—”

Warrick grabbed the Countess of Sinclair's bony wrist. “What did you say?”

“Take your hands off me, boy. If you have that much of an aversion to jewelry then—”

Warrick released her. “No. That's not it. You said something about large rubies. The Duke of Ravenscroft possesses three large rubies?”

“You won't convince him to sell them, if that's your plan,” the countess warned him. “He informed me he has plans for the rubies, though we all thought he lost his fortune on war speculation. The rumors were he'd lost a great deal of money. He'll probably have them made into a wedding gift for his new duchess. Poor Darlington.”

Poor Darlington was correct. Andrew, the Earl of Darlington and Warrick's friend, was the eldest son and heir of the Duke of Ravenscroft.

And his father was a traitor.

“Excuse me,” Warrick said, scanning the ballroom for Ravenscroft.

“He's not here,” the countess said. “He departed while you were indisposed.”

“I see.” Warrick's gaze fell on Lily. His mother had left Fallon's side for a moment, and Lily had taken her place. The two ladies were laughing—and, he wagered, drawing the eyes of most of the men in the room. “Excuse me,” he said again and crossed the room to join them.

Fallon smiled at him as he approached, and he had the urge to simply sweep her into his arms and then away from all of this. They could go to Italy or Greece, where they'd be safe. But that wouldn't save the other Diamonds in the Rough, and he had an obligation to his men.

“Countess,” he said to Lily. “Might we have a word before you depart this evening?”

“Of course.” Her gaze was searching.

“I have an assignment for you.”

She sobered. “I see. Why don't we meet in the library at midnight?”

“I will see you then.”

Lily moved back and was quickly claimed by a young gentleman for the waltz that had just begun.

“What was that all about?” Fallon asked. “Assignment? Rendezvous in the library? Should I be jealous?”

“No.” He took her hand and swept her into the waltz, relishing the feel of her warm body pressed to his. “I know who the traitor is, and I need Lily's help catching him.”

“Who is it? And how is Lily supposed to help you catch him? I don't understand your relationship with her.”

He spun her around. “We have worked together in the past.”

“But in the past you were… but Lily is not… Warrick, I don't understand.”

“Understand this, my beautiful, noble, enchanting fiancée. I love you.” He pulled her close—far closer than was proper. “I love you.” Taking her face in his hands, he leaned down and kissed her gently. “I love you.”

Friends of mine who are not writers often tell me they are amazed at what I do. They find it astonishing I sit down and write three books a year. I hate to tell them I'm really not amazing at all. I only accomplish writing any book because I have a lot of help.

Who helps me? My family. My mom, my dad, and my sister are constantly supporting and encouraging me. My parents often babysit as does my wonderful mother-in-law. My husband gives up precious time with me so I can work and helps out in so many ways.

My friends buy my books, attend my signings, and understand when I can't chat or go out because I have too much work. And then when I have a break, they are always happy to welcome me back into the fold. I want to acknowledge just a few of these awesome friends by name—Laura, Tina, Tera, and Sharie. I also want to thank my RWA chapter, especially Vicky and Nicole, and my “writing” friends, Robyn, Margo, Emily, and Ashley.

I'm part of a fabulous community of professionals. I blog with some of the best women around. Thank you to the Jaunty Quills, the Peanut Butter on the Keyboard moms, and the Casababes for always being on the other side of the email.

There wouldn't be a book without the fabulous Joanna Mackenzie and Danielle Egan-Miller. And the book wouldn't be very good without Deb Werksman and the rest of the Sourcebooks team, especially Danielle Jackson, Cat Clyne, Susie Benton, and Rachel Edwards.

And then there's maddee, Jen, and the whole crew at
xuni.com
who always make me look put together. Gayle Cochrane, my wonderful assistant, is so creative and talented. She makes me look inventive and tech savvy.

This book is dedicated to my readers. Thank you to all of you who faithfully comment on my Facebook pages, reply to my tweets, loyally follow my blog tours, and, oh yeah, buy my books. I especially want to thank Melanie Bernard, whose response to a Facebook plea for suggestions led to the title of this book. I really do have the best readers!

Shana Galen is the bestselling author of fast-paced adventurous Regency historicals, including the
RT
Reviewers' Choice
The
Making
of
a
Gentleman
. Her books have been sold worldwide, including in Japan, Brazil, Russia, Spain, Turkey, and the Netherlands, and have been featured in the Rhapsody and Doubleday Book Clubs. A former English teacher in Houston's inner city, Shana now writes full time. She's a wife, a mother, and an expert multitasker. She loves to hear from readers; visit her website at
www.shanagalen.com
, or see what she's up to daily on Facebook and Twitter.