Seduced by the Scoundrel (24 page)

‘He’ll humiliate himself if he does—you were not known to be his betrothed, so if he fights me over you it will become common knowledge that he was jilted. If there was a chance he could get you back without a fuss, then that would be one thing—that was what I was afraid of, that he’d snatch you if he found you—but he won’t be able to do that now.’

‘But why not? We know he is ruthless and cold-blooded—’

‘A married woman is of no use to him,’ Luc said so calmly that for a moment she missed his meaning.

‘Married? You mean to marry me?’

‘Of course.’ His smile as he saw the realisation hit her was pure, unclouded joy. ‘There is no need to worry about banns—I can swear the allegation and get a licence from the vicar at St James’s church just opposite Albany. I can prove residence easily enough, even though I am hardly a regular churchgoer. You do not mind St James’s?’

‘Mind? But you cannot marry me, Luc. You want a Frenchwoman. And my grandfather was a grocer, for goodness’ sake!’

‘So you came back to be my mistress?’ It was his turn to stare now. ‘You love me enough to do that?’

‘Of course,’ she said, impatient that he did not understand. ‘For as long as you want me.’

‘I want you for ever.’ He shook his head, as frustrated as she by their mutual incomprehension. ‘I did not understand what it was to be in love. I made all those stupid conditions, set up barriers that mean nothing. Yes, you are English, but you can learn French, we can divide our time so the children can grow up in both countries. Our first son, of course, will inherit the title, so he must always feel more French than English, but I know you will support me in that.’

‘Children,’ she murmured, and nodded, too moved for words. Their children. She wanted to kiss him because the look in his eyes answered every doubt she could ever have that he loved her.

‘D’Aunays
do not marry trade,’
Luc said bitterly. ‘I can just hear the words in my head. I was a fool, a prejudiced fool. Well, this d’Aunay will marry for love. All that matters is that I have found an intelligent, brave, beautiful woman whom I adore and who will stand by my side.’

It was a dream come true, and like all dreams, nightmare lurked on the edges. ‘Bradon could sue you for alienation of my affections, the loss of my dowry.’

‘Then he can have your damn dowry,’ Luc said. ‘How much does your father love you? Will he settle for a French count with a promising career in the navy while the war lasts and a foothold in two countries when it ends? Will he pay off Bradon if I do not ask for any dowry with you and settle my own money on you? He still gets a son-in-law with some influence and standing, after all.’

‘You would do that?’

‘Of course. I would hand over every penny I own to keep you. Averil, you have turned my life upside down. I thought I knew what I wanted and now all I want is you. You will marry me?’ The sudden uncertainty in his voice caught at her heart. He was so strong, so confident and yet he was so unsure of her.

She swallowed, trying to find the right words to reassure him, but he got to his knees on the floor of the rocking carriage, caught her hands in his and said, ‘Averil Heydon, I love you. Marry me and I swear you will never regret it. Marry me, because I do not think I can live without you.’

‘I shall have to,’ she said as she lifted their joined hands to her lips and kissed his knuckles. ‘Because I cannot live without you either.
Je t’aime.’

‘Now that,’ Luc said as he sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms, ‘that is all the French you will need for a long, long time.’

The carriage rocked on its way towards Piccadilly and the old church, but Averil did not notice it, for Luc’s arms were strong around her and his mouth was tender
on hers and the words he spoke, although she did not understand them with her head, she could translate with her heart, because they were all of love.

* * * * * 

All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.

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First published in Great Britain 2011
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited,
Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

© Melanie Hilton 2011

ISBN: 978-1-408-92359-7