Regency Romantic Comedy
Independent (May 22, 2013)
When Henry Cavendish, Marquess of Dalton, leapt to catch the fainting woman before she hit the cobblestone, he never thought that one chivalrous act would set his well ordered life on end. His ingrained need to protect her has every bit as much to do with her enchanting beauty as it does his desire to wipe the hunted look from her startling blue eyes. He thinks he has everything in hand, but the lady has secrets that puts everything he loves at risk.
Olivia Goldsleigh just wants to live without terror, but a gunshot in the night proves things can always get worse. The beautiful and god-like Lord Dalton swears to protect her, to make the danger go away. She wants the man, the life, the family, the bliss he promises, but her secrets are certain to destroy them all.
His birthday was next month, his twenty-seventh, and he wanted to be married and on his way to begetting an heir before long. He yearned to be settled. The irony of it all was he was certainly in no need of more females in his house. That was for damn sure. As it was, he currently resided in a house completely filled with women. His mother, the Marchioness, occupied the mansion with his grandmother, his aunt and all four of his sisters. What in God’s name he was thinking about when he considered adding a wife to the mix, he had no idea. He often felt like he was drowning in lace and hairpins already without adding another woman. But that was exactly what he intended—at some point anyway, as soon as an acceptable young lady came along.
His sisters arrived at the ice shop before him, and now the little café was overrun by Cavendishes. He paused and watched the familiar scene play out. They were potent and elemental, these Cavendish ladies, and they would set a room a tumble every time they entered one.
“Your lips are turning blue from your blackberry ice, monkey face,” Henry teased Daphne, knowing it would make her squeal and pull out a glass from her reticule. He waggled his eyebrows and grinned at her when she turned to glare at him, her lips still perfectly pink.
Helen, the youngest at twelve, tried to entice him with her spoon. “There are more flavors than lemon you know.”
“That may be true, ladybug.” Henry placed a heaping spoonful of lemon ice on his tongue and, savoring it, comically rolled his eyes. “But lemon is the best.”
Afterwards, they walked in a cluster on the sidewalk the half block back to the carriage, Henry’s annoyance from earlier having melted away like the ice on his tongue. Penelope’s arm linked with his. She slowed her pace and then came to a stop, pulling him to a stop as well. Henry looked to her in question, and then followed her gaze to a woman and child across the street.
“What is it?” Henry asked her. He squinted at them trying to see if he recognized the woman. “Do you know her?”
“It looks like my friend Olivia,” Penny mused. She lifted the brim of her bonnet to get a better look. “I think it is Olivia.”
“Penny, isn’t that your friend Olivia?” Cassandra inquired as she drew abreast of her siblings.
“I’m not sure.” Penelope twisted her mouth in question.
If it was his sister’s friend, what had she gone through to look so haggard? He didn’t think his sisters had many acquaintances outside of the ton. The lady wore shabby clothes. Her hair was dirty and stringy where it fell from a messy updo. She looked painfully thin and pale. The boy was dirty and worn, too, but not as thin and haggard looking as the woman. Perhaps they were acquaintances met through one of their mother’s many charities.
Before Henry could stop her, Penelope dropped her hand from his arm and strode through the traffic.
“Penelope!” Henry started after his sister while he hollered back over his shoulder for the rest of them to stay put. Daphne was the first to ignore him and start across the cobblestones, followed, of course, by the rest of the group. Why God even gave them ears… Henry grasped Penelope’s hand, and together they navigated the busy street.
“Olivia?” Penny called. “Olivia!”
The woman turned at the sound of her name, eyes wide with fear, and clutched the boy closer to her side. He was eating a meat pie, devouring it actually.
“Penelope?” The woman spoke as if seeing a vision, one she couldn’t believe was real.
Penny took her friend by the hand. “Livvy? What has happened to you?”
“I escaped,” was all she uttered as she fainted.
Henry leapt forward and caught her before she hit the walk.
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