A Timeless Romance Anthology: European Collection (23 page)

When the dinner bell sounded, Lucy instructed her abigail to have her meal brought up on a tray. She simply wanted to be left alone. But the minutes stretched out, and her food didn’t arrive. After nearly thirty minutes had past, Lucy began to suspect something had gone wrong.

She opened her bedchamber door a crack and peeked out. The corridor was empty. The family would be at their meal already. She tiptoed down the stairs, not wishing to draw attention to herself. They would want to talk, but she had no desire to. The corridor where the dining room stood was silent.

Now that
is
odd
. She glanced around, trying to sort it out. It was the dinner hour, and her family were not ones to miss a meal. She was nearly certain that Robert and Amelia, and Charles and Clarissa intended to take dinner with them that night. With six people sitting down to a meal, there ought to have been quite a bit of chatter.

Perhaps they had decided to eat elsewhere. The staff always seemed to know more about the comings and goings of the family than anyone. She stepped into the dining room, intending to tug the bell pull, but the sound of voices down the corridor stopped her.

She listened. Definitely voices. Lucy moved toward the sound.
The drawing room?
Why were they gathered in the drawing room? She pulled the door open a bit and looked inside. Seven pairs of eyes darted toward her. Then the room seemed to spring into action.

“Oh, no you will not, you lying blackguard!” Father declared in ringing tones, pointing an accusatory finger at Reed, of all people.

Lucy opened the door more fully.

“I will not be deterred, old man,” Reed replied, in stilted and overly dramatic tones. “Resign yourself.”

Mother pressed the back of her hand to her forehead and dropped against the sofa. “Whatever shall we do?”

Amelia and Clarissa rushed to Mother’s side, waving smelling salts and patting her hands as if consoling her.

Robert rose and stood next to Father. Though his expression was serious, Lucy knew the look of laughter hovering in the back of her brother’s eyes. “You will not get away with this dastardly plan, Mr. Stanthorpe.”

“Oh, but I will,” Reed said. “You will not keep us apart a moment longer. If I must move mountains or cross oceans, I will. For true love always wins in the end!” He spun about, facing Lucy. “Never fear, my lady, I have come to rescue you from this vile place of imprisonment.”

“What in heaven’s name—”

Reed stepped up to her and wrapped is arm around her waist. He looked back over her family, assembled in an obviously preplanned pose. “Do not attempt to follow us,” Reed warned. “For I will allow nothing to come between me and my true love again.”

“Reed, what is going on?” Lucy asked.

He looked down at her, and her heart nearly stopped at the intensity of his gaze. “Our long nightmare is over, love. I’ve come to take you away from this place.”

“Have you really?” The words emerged as little more than a whisper.

“I have, indeed, and should have long ago.” To her family he said, “Au revoir!” then swept her from the room and down the corridor.

A footman waited at the front door, clearly anticipating their departure. He held the door, and they stepped out. Reed’s carriage sat in readiness, the driver already perched atop. They were quickly settled inside— Lucy on the forward-facing bench and Reed on the rear-facing— and the carriage lurched forward.

Her mind was in a whirlwind. What had just happened? Reed came for her, that much was certain. Though why he had remained a mystery. She would not allow herself to believe he had missed her and longed for her, when so much silence had stretched between them.

And, yet, he
was
here.

“Lucy?” His voice was a bit uncertain. “I need to say something, and I hope you won’t take it the wrong way.”

She braced herself. Heaven only knew what he meant to tell her.

“I have always liked your family; you know that. But darling, they aren’t very bright.”

“What do you mean?”

Reed moved and sat directly beside her, taking her hands in his and looking into her face. The streetlamps they passed illuminated his expression enough for her to see the earnestness there. “I realize you first came to your parents’ home because I was being an utter featherhead and you needed someone to listen to you. By the time I realized where you were, your mother and sisters had already convinced you that this miscommunication we were having was worthy of a drawn-out battle.”

That was true enough.

“Upon arriving, your male relations pulled me aside and convinced me of the same thing. Though I would have far preferred to simply bring you home and talk it through, I bowed to their years of matrimonial experience, thinking it gave them insight. But, Lucy, darling, they are idiots, the lot of them.”

She actually laughed out loud. She knew Reed really did like her family, but considering the turmoil of the past week, she had to agree with his assessment of their mental faculties.

He brushed his fingers along her cheek. “We should never have listened to them, my love. And I am sorry their schemes hurt you and sorrier still that I had any part of it.”

“We were both rather blinded by them,” Lucy said. “We ought to have simply told them all how bacon-brained they were being and fixed the problem ourselves.”

“Indeed.” He cupped her face gently in his hands and placed a tender kiss to her forehead. “And now that I have rescued you from the dungeon of despair they were keeping you in—”

She smiled at the theatrical tone he had adopted once more.

“I think we had best set our minds to resolving the difficulty that caused all of this trouble.”

Lucy leaned into his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder and her hand against his chest. “I know you don’t care for Society functions,” she said. “And I don’t want to force you to endure them all the time.”

His arms held her ever tighter. “And I know how much you do enjoy them, and I don’t want you to miss them all.”

“Perhaps…” She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “We could pick a few events each week I would particularly like to attend, and on the other nights, we could stay home.”

Reed kissed her temple. “I believe that is an excellent solution.”

Lucy shifted enough to more fully face him, brushing her fingers along his jaw. “And if there is ever anything you desperately wish to avoid attending, you tell me, and we’ll stay home.”

His hand slipped behind her neck, his fingers weaving into her hair. “And if there is anything you desperately wish to attend, you tell me, and we will make certain we are there.”

“And”— she feathered a kiss on his lips— “we will never”— another light kiss— “ever”— and another— “listen to my family again.”

“Agreed.”

Reed pulled her firmly into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. The heartache and loneliness of the past week simply melted away. He did love her. He always had. If not for the poor advice and insistence of meddlesome relations, they might have resolved this difficulty very easily.

But, she told herself as he continued kissing her and holding her, that without the argument, they’d not be enjoying a reconciliation.

The carriage came to a stop in front of their house. Reed pulled away, letting down the window.

“Circle the block a few more times, man,” he called out to the driver. “And drive slowly.”

He put up the window once more and drew the curtains. She felt his arms slip around her and his warmth settle over her once more.

“Now, my dearest Lucy, where were we?”

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Sarah M. Eden is the author of multiple historical romances, including 
Longing for Home
and Whitney Award finalists 
Seeking Persephone 
and 
Courting Miss Lancaster
. Combining her obsession with history and affinity for tender love stories, Sarah loves crafting witty characters and heartfelt romances. She has twice served as the Master of Ceremonies for the LDStorymakers Writers Conference and acted as the Writer in Residence at the Northwest Writers Retreat. Sarah is represented by Pam van Hylckama Vlieg at Foreword Literary Agency.

Visit Sarah’s website:
http://www.sarahmeden.com

Twitter: @sarahmeden

by Heather B. Moore

Chapter One

Bordeaux, France—1841

Gina Graydon tucked a deliciously romantic gothic novel under her arm and stepped onto the hotel balcony of her second-floor room. That the hotel balcony perched over a shadowed garden, and the sun had yet to rise, didn’t deter Gina from hiking up her wrapper and nightgown and climbing over the rail.

In her twenty years, she’d had plenty of experience climbing from balconies. Doing so was her favorite early morning pastime back at home in New York City. Of course, her parents would not be happy if they knew what she was doing now.

Currently, it was dark enough to avoid detection by her parents, who slept in the next room over, should they awaken unexpectedly. And it was light enough to climb down the protruding stones without falling into a heap.