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Authors: Amelia Grey

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BOOK: Never a Bride
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Camden grasped her upper arms and pulled her to him. His lips covered hers quickly, hard and hungry, completely scorching her with his strength, his heat, and his desire. Blood rushed to her ears. Her breasts pressed against his chest. Breath swooshed out of her lungs. She felt his power, his anger, his punishment in the way his hands held her arms and his lips moved over hers.

As suddenly as he had grabbed her, he let her go and stepped away unapologetically.

Gooseflesh rose on her skin.

Mirabella was astonished, frightened, exhilarated. Lord Stonehurst’s kiss was nothing like the flat pressing together of dry lips that she had endured from fumbling gentlemen all week. There was nothing awkward or hesitating in the viscount’s kiss. It was hot, searing, and passionate.

“You should have waited until I returned.” His words spilled from a ragged breath.

Behind an unexpected broken gasp she whispered, “If only I had known you would. Right now, I feel as if I haven’t ever been kissed before you.”

He looked stunned, caught off guard by her honesty, but quickly recovered and said, “What’s done can’t be undone. I will not be made a fool of twice. The engagement must be broken.”

Mirabella felt as if a knife had pierced her heart. His rejection of her was complete. “Of course, I understand that.”

She kept her composure, if not her dignity. For reasons she couldn’t fathom, she was wounded down to her inner soul by this intriguing man.

“I’ll call on your father tomorrow and settle the final arrangements with him.”

“All right, but I would like the opportunity to speak with him first, if you don’t mind. He hasn’t been well recently, and I think this will be easier for him to accept coming from me. Would you please not come until early in the evening, or perhaps even the day after tomorrow?”

He nodded and looked away from her and she wondered if it was that he could no longer tolerate the sight of her.

Mirabella managed to walk past him toward her uncle with her head held high. She wouldn’t think about Lord Stonehurst or what might have been.

She had begun her search for Sarah’s seducer knowing it would ruin her reputation. She had set a course that now she couldn’t stop, but she had never dreamed her fiancé would return and catch her in the arms of another man.

What a cruel hand fate had dealt her. Her fiancé was the only man she had kissed because she wanted to, and the only man whose kiss she had enjoyed. And the only man she couldn’t have.

Five

Viscount Stonehurst Returns

If you missed the ball at the Worsters’ last evening you missed the party of the Season. Viscount Stonehurst has returned, and all the debutantes’ heads are turning toward him. There’s already talk that his engagement to Miss Mirabella Whittingham, which has lasted over six years, will not last the Season. Hmm. One has to wonder why he stayed away so long. Could the reason be the long-standing rumor of a jealous mistress was true? And if so, will he go back to America for her? Word has it that no one actually saw him last evening with his patient, dutiful bride-to-be, but there is no doubt he was looking for her. I’m told he carelessly brushed off everyone who tried to speak to him when he departed, and Miss Whittingham left by way of the back garden. Hmm. If anyone has any details of what appears to be an unhappy reunion please let this one know and all will be told right here.


Lord Truefitt,
Society’s Daily Column

Camden threw the paper on the bed. He didn’t know why his mother had slipped it under his door. Surely she, of all people, knew he had no desire to read about himself in the “Society Column.” Their heavy-inked gossip was one of the reasons he went abroad. And that’s where he should have stayed. Responsibility be damned.

He was a man with a purpose as he strode down the stairs of his parents’ town home the next morning. He needed to tell them immediately that the wedding was off, and that there would be no further talk of it. He didn’t care how the scandal sheets handled this broken betrothal.

He’d been through it before. All those angry feelings stirred up from the past had knotted his stomach all night. Thank God he wasn’t in love with Miss Mirabella Whittingham as he had been with Hortense. Miss Whittingham had intrigued him with her freshness, her boldness, and her intelligence. That was all. Surely in all of London, he could find another lady as provoking and as invigorating as Miss Whittingham, who had not been as free with her affections.

The thing that bothered him most about her was that even after he had seen her in the arms of another man, still she haunted his dreams. She had such an innocent appearance about her to be so strikingly bold.

Two unfaithful fiancées. What were the odds that would happen to any man? Could no woman be faithful? Maybe he was destined to seek his pleasure in the arms of a paid mistress who was not interested in marriage or in the fact that he’d bear the title of earl one day. Perhaps he should leave it to Hudson to marry and produce a son and one day assume his father’s legacy.

Imagine Miss Whittingham trying to lay the blame on him and make him feel like a schoolboy who needed his knuckles rapped for misbehaving, simply because he failed to notify her when he would be home to wed her. The chit had nerve.

He strode into the dining room, but it was empty. He went through the doorway into the kitchen and found the maid. She told him his parents were in the garden. His parents’ lifestyle was another surprise to him. Something wasn’t right in their household. Their servants had been reduced to an old footman who could hardly get around on his own and two maids who took care of the cleaning, caring for the clothes and the cooking. Camden didn’t know how the two of them kept up with everything.

He walked through the kitchen and into the cupboard room and stopped to look out the window at the small garden. His father sat in a chair reading the
Times.
His mother stood beside him arranging flowers in a vase that was placed in the center of the table. They were the perfect picture of a titled couple, when he didn’t look too closely.

His father was dressed in a brown striped suit, a shirt that was no longer white and a faded, brown cravat. His mother wore a faded puce-colored morning dress that should have been discarded long ago. Her wide brimmed hat was pulled low over her eyes. The rice straw hat had crimped edges from years of use.

Camden realized he had missed them. He was glad to be home. He didn’t know what had happened to his father’s income and holdings. He wanted to help restore the life they were used to, but marrying Miss Whittingham wasn’t the answer. His gaze drifted upward to the sky. He hadn’t missed the gray days of London when he’d been in America. Baltimore had plenty of days filled with sunshine. That was one thing he’d miss about that land across the sea.

He opened the door and stepped outside onto the slate patio.

“Good morning, Camden.” His mother’s face brightened with a smile. “It fills my heart with cheer to have you home.”

He walked over to the table and kissed her cheek.

“Did you find the newsprint I put under your door? I do want to hear all about what happened at the Worsters’.”

Camden nodded.

His father laid down the paper. “No sooner will we get used to having him home again than it will be time for him to move into his own place with his new bride.”

“I know. The time will pass too quickly,” his mama said in a sighing voice. “Earlier, I was making a list of all the things we need to do: the guest list for the wedding, looking at houses to lease, and of course hiring servants. You’ll need your own carriage and footman. Cabs are just too expensive these days, and no one walks the streets anymore.” She stuck the last flower into the vase and said, “I’ll pour you some tea.”

“Wait, Mama. I don’t care for tea right now.” A mild breeze blew his hair across his forehead and he brushed it aside. “I need to tell you something. There won’t be a marriage between me and Miss Whittingham.”

“What?” His father rose from his chair.

His mother went rigid beside him. “Don’t tease about this, Camden. Of course there will be a wedding. That’s why you came home.”

“We settled this yesterday, Camden,” his father said, picking up the newsprint again and immediately slamming it back down on the table. The wind picked it up, sailed it across the lawn where it caught on a flowering shrub. “You came back home to fulfill your vow and marry her. Why are you fighting this so hard?”

His father’s words angered him, but he held his tone in check. “It’s true I returned knowing it was your intention for me to marry Miss Whittingham. Even though I preferred to wait a year longer, I was willing to consider the possibility of doing that. Unfortunately things have changed.”

He refused to go into details about what happened last night. He didn’t want his father to know he’d caught Miss Whittingham in the arms of another man. It wasn’t just the fact that he didn’t want his father to know that he’d been taken by another dishonorable woman.

For some reason he didn’t understand, Camden was reluctant to further besmirch Miss Whittingham’s reputation. He didn’t know why he cared whether or not her name was ruined. It was obvious she had no thought for her own character. She admitted she didn’t even love the man she was kissing.

“Your plans can’t change.” His mother whimpered, her bottom lip trembling. She pulled a handkerchief from under the cuff of her sleeve.

“We don’t have the money for them to change. I thought you understood that.” His father’s voice softened from anger to a tone that sounded like defeat. Suddenly he looked older than his fifty-four years.

Camden was uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going. He didn’t like the way he was feeling, and he didn’t like having to defend himself. “This doesn’t have anything to do with money. I have enough, and I’ll repay the dowry.”

“It has everything to do with money. You have to forget whatever has happened and marry that girl. There is no need to plan for a long engagement. We have all waited long enough.”

Camden gritted his teeth.

“I wish everyone would stop telling me how long I’ve been gone. You act as if I’ve been away thirty years. Miss Whittingham wasn’t even of marriageable age when I left.”

“We don’t need you to repay the first half of the dowry. We need to secure the other half of it as soon as possible. All my investments have gone sour. We have enough money to get by from the entitled lands but there is no extra money for other things, Camden.”

His father was acting as if he hadn’t protested at all and Camden knew why. His had always been short of cash as long as Camden could remember. That was one of the reasons he’d allowed his father to make this match. Twice was one time too many.

“I’m sorry if you were counting on that, sir.”

“Son,” his father said, “let me see if I can make this clear. You have to marry Miss Whittingham. There is not enough time to work out details on a new match for you or Hudson. Creditors are knocking at our door. If they suspect the betrothal is off, there’s no telling what they will do.”

Exasperation quickly rose in Camden that his father had somehow managed to get himself in such dire financial straits again. And for the second time he expected Camden to rescue him.

“Last night I caught my fiancée in the arms of another man. Does that bring back memories for anyone other than me?” His gaze jerked from one parent to the other.

His father looked away from him and blinked slowly. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

“Perhaps they were dancing,” his mother offered nervously. “Surely if she was in a man’s arms they were dancing.”

“No, Mama, they were not dancing. They were in the garden embracing, kissing.”

“Oh, dear, I’ve never heard a breath of scandal about her. Wilson?”

“No.”

His father didn’t look at him. His voice was less than convincing. Camden’s stomach knotted. He knew his father must have heard rumors about Mirabella. Damnation! Those young bachelors he overheard talking the first night he arrived in Town must have been talking about
his
fiancée. It was probably only a matter of time until her indiscretions showed up in the gossip columns.

“Neither had we heard anything years ago, as I recall, when we saw Hortense in the arms of another man. I’ve no idea how many other men Miss Whittingham has been with. I don’t care to find out. And I have no desire to wed or bed her.”

“I can’t believe this, Camden.” His mother sank into a chair. “Wilson, what are we to do? If the engagement is broken, and Camden pays back the dowry, where will we get the money to pay back all that money we borrowed?”

“Yes, paying back the dowry is the least of our worries,” his father muttered weakly. For the first time he looked Camden in the eyes. “It’s creditors we have to concern ourselves with. You must marry her.”

Camden had a feeling that by creditors his father really meant gambling debts. “You would have me marry a woman I found in the arms of another man?”

“For the good of the family,” his father said.

“You don’t know how bad things are. Tell him, Wilson.”

Anger flared in his father’s eyes and tears pooled in his mother’s. Camden took a settling breath. “It doesn’t matter. I told you I have money. I’ll help you pay your debts.”

“You couldn’t have enough.” His father sighed. “All the land we have outside the entailed lands are mortgaged and will be lost by the end of the month.”

Camden took a step forward. “All your land? That can’t be true.”

“It’s true,” Wilson admitted, shaking his head in frustration. “I’ve been very foolish over the years and not a very good keeper of what my father left to me. Our income is down to a meager amount and most of that is obligated to debts.”

Camden swore under his breath. “Father, how did you let yourself get in this situation?”

“Gambling,” his mama said, confirming what Camden suspected.

“Not entirely,” his father remarked abruptly.

Camden made a fist of desperation at his side. “Why didn’t you stop after the trouble you had years ago.”

“He did,” his mother admitted. “For a while.”

His father looked abashed. “I got in too deep when I put everything but Lockshaven up as collateral on an investment that was supposed to return my money threefold. I was going to get us on solid ground again, but it was a scam. The man absconded with the money, and I can’t locate him.”

“The Pembertons will never agree to let Hudson marry Miss Pemberton if they find out what a financial state we’re in. And Hudson loves her so.”

Yes, Camden saw how much in love the two were last night. They couldn’t keep their eyes off each other. Just like he and Hortense had been. No, he thought. He had looked at Hortense that way, but she had never looked at him with such love in her eyes. How could she? She had loved another man. Camden was young and had missed all the signs that what Hortense had wanted from him was the comfortable life his title would afford her.

Camden looked at his mother, at her sad eyes and worrying lips. No wonder his father had aged and their clothing was worn. They were probably spending every extra shilling they had to keep up Hudson’s appearance.

His heart constricted. “I knew the minute I walked in yesterday there was a problem, but I had no idea your finances were this bad. You’re asking me to marry a completely unsuitable woman—for money.”

His father pleaded, “We have no choice. I can cope with going to jail, if it ever came to that, but I don’t think your mother could bear it.”

Damnation! What was he to do? He had enough money to attend to his family’s everyday needs for a while and pay off some debts, too. He’d actually saved a little money, choosing to spend most of his extra pounds on stock in the Maryland Ship Building Company where he’d worked in America. He thought he’d be set for life. He hadn’t planned to be paying off his father’s gambling debts.

Camden had to think, and he couldn’t do it rationally while he watched the tears roll down his mother’s pale cheeks.

“I’ll get back with you on what I intend to do.” Camden turned and walked back into the town house.

***

Mirabella wanted to see Lord Stonehurst again, yet she didn’t. One moment she was telling herself she was happy the engagement was off and in the next she was distressed by the thought of never seeing him again. There was no reason to suspect she could ever be happy with a man such as he, but she kept remembering how he’d taken care of her that first night they met. How he’d made her breath quicken with anticipation. How his brief kiss in the Worsters’ garden had seared her with so many powerful sensations at once.

BOOK: Never a Bride
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