Regret sat bitter in Naomi’s mouth as she stepped out onto the expanse of the beach the following morning. She normally loved the sea; the cries of the seagulls as they soared high overhead were a siren’s call to her soul.
But not this morning, even the blue skies and refreshing salt air could not bring her a sense of serenity. She would rather be anywhere but here at Monsale Castle. Her protests and offer to remain in London had been refused by her mother. She had made her bed and was now going to have to lie in it.
The thought of standing amongst the guests watching while Monsale made Lady Euphemia his duchess had bile rising in her throat. She was certain there were no more tears left to cry.
How am I going to get through today without falling to pieces?
Her stomach was empty, she couldn’t face food this morning. If she were honest about it, there were few things she could stand right now. Being alone offered the only glint of solace for her broken heart.
Naomi glanced over at her brother; Harry walked alongside her. She hadn’t even been granted the peace of being left alone. Instead, he had been at the door of the cottage a little after seven, rousing her from her bed with the unexpected offer of a long walk on the beach.
She knew what he was doing. Keeping her busy before the wedding ceremony at ten o’clock. Stopping her from leaving.
Why do I have to attend? He is your friend. Can’t people just let me keep one small piece of my self-regard intact?
Wet sand crunched under her boots as they made their way along the beach toward the castle. The towering ancient fortress of Monsale Castle dominated the landscape. She couldn’t escape it. It was a constant reminder of her failure. Of the game she had played and lost.
In a matter of hours Monsale would be walking down the aisle and taking another woman as his bride. By the time the sun had set on this day he would belong to someone else.
Euphemia would be the one to share his bed. To give birth to his children. To see him through the years ahead and be by his side as he grew old. And as a family friend, she would be forced to bear witness to it all. To endure every painful celebration of the Duke and Duchess of Monsale’s lives. Constantly reminded of what she had gambled and lost.
A tear snaked down her cheek. How many tears had she already shed over the past few days?
Why isn’t there a limit on the number of times you can cry over someone?
She stared out to sea, the coast of France a thin dark line in the distance. Travel beckoned. The Steele family had land holdings in Ireland, perhaps when this day was over, she would speak to her parents and suggest she leave England for a time. The fresh air and green vista of another land might help to heal her heart. Allow her time to begin to pick up the pieces, and perhaps find hope once more.
Her gaze drifted to the nearby holm of Saint Margaret which lay a short distance across the water. On the top of a small rise stood the ruins of a medieval monastic church. She had always wanted to visit the tiny island. Had held secret dreams of hosting summer picnics on the grassy knoll next to the chapel.
But that had been when she saw her future as Monsale’s duchess. That dream was now at an end.
“I just wish Mama wasn’t so insistent on me attending the service,” she muttered.
She could well understand her mother’s reasons. Refusing to take part in the celebrations would be hypocritical in the least. It had been her decision not to put her name on the list. Monsale had asked more than once. A man could only take no for an answer so many times before he looked elsewhere for a wife.
“You know why you have to go to the wedding. Mama and Papa consider Monsale to be a part of the family. It would be an insult not to make an appearance,” replied Harry.
As opposed to the groom marrying another woman after he had kissed me and begged me to put my name on his list?
She would take that humiliating experience with her to the grave.
With a resigned sigh, Naomi continued on toward the castle. The rest of the shoreline behind them was ragged rocks and inaccessible drops to the sea. The only other place to walk was inland and into the nearby village of Deal.
A figure appeared at the crest of one of the dunes leading down from the castle. From the way they were dressed it was obviously a man. Naomi peered, straining to see if it was another of her brother’s friends. Whoever it was, they were headed her way.
Damn. The last thing I want to do this morning is make polite conversation.
She turned on her heel and slowly began to walk back the way they had come. Hopefully, whoever it was on the beach would see she was leaving and not follow.
Harry raced after her, grabbing a hold of the end of her cloak, stopping her progress.
“Please don’t go. He wants you to stay.”
A cry of salutation reached her on the wild wind. “Naomi! Wait!”
She tore her gaze from her brother to the approaching male. He was very tall and broad shouldered. The only man she knew who fitted that physique was Monsale. But he was shortly to be married; and right now, was probably spending the morning with his future in laws. He most certainly didn’t have time to go wandering the beach.
Naomi shook her head. She must be imagining things, craving her heart’s desire for one last time.
Her name came to her once more on the wind. “Naomi!”
As he drew closer, she simply stared. It was Monsale.
“I don’t understand,” she said.
Harry pulled her into his arms and gave her a hearty hug. “You will.” He drew back and smiled at her. “Give him one last chance. He knows he has made an almighty mess of things. And also, what he stands in danger of losing.”
“What do you mean? I am the one who has lost everything.”
With that, Harry leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “I hope to see you very soon.” He wandered off in the direction of the castle, giving Monsale a wide berth as he went.
Her gaze settled back on the approaching Monsale. He was carrying something draped across his arms and striding with great purpose toward her. She stood, unable to move. A small voice in the back of her mind urged Naomi to run to him, but she refused to listen to its plea.
He is marrying Lady Euphemia. It wouldn’t be right for me to throw myself at him.
Naomi would honor their long friendship today and be gracious in defeat. Hopefully, it would be the first step in the long healing process for her heart. She would learn to move forward with her own life. Perhaps one day, find another who would want her love.
When he finally got within a few yards of her, Monsale stopped. There were two objects in his arms. One was a large bunch of flowers. Beautiful white and pink damask roses. They must have come from the hothouse at the castle. The other was a long, broad edged sword.
Monsale bent and gently set the roses down on the sand. He then knelt, and with the sword held flat across both his palms, he raised his arms, offering the sword to her.
Naomi scowled. What on earth was he doing?
Intrigued, she stepped forward and came to him. “What is going on?”
He grinned up at her. “This is me offering my sword to you. I am conceding defeat. You win Naomi. The war is over.”
“I…I don’t understand,” she stammered.
Monsale lay the sword next to the roses and got to his feet. With one large stride, he reached Naomi. She looked up as he towered over her.
“You win. I was stubborn and foolish. Thinking I could hold out and get you to marry me without ever offering my heart was wrong,” he said.
Utterly perplexed at his words, Naomi continued to scowl up at him.
“I still don’t understand what you are saying. I am the one who lost.”
He shook his head. “Yes, and no. I have thought long and hard about this whole catastrophe for the best part of the last two days, and I’ve come to the realization that we both lost. And perhaps that was what had to happen in order for us to win.”
“But Lady Euphemia…”
“Is somewhere on the road to Scotland this morning, traveling in Viscount Walsall’s coach. She is with the man she loves. I can only hope that they have the good sense to head straight to Gretna Green and marry as soon as possible.”
His fiancée had jilted him?
Monsale took a hold of Naomi’s hand. “A short while ago, I announced to Lord and Lady Marshall that last night I decided I didn’t want to marry Lady Euphemia. I also explained to them that in what can only be described as an astonishing coincidence, Viscount Walsall just happened to be passing Monsale Castle in the dark last night. He stopped and after offering for Euphemia, spirited her away. Suffice to say the Marshalls didn’t take any of the news all that well. They left the castle just as I was crossing the dunes a short while ago.”
Naomi swayed on her feet. Monsale is not marrying Euphemia. Monsale is not…oh dear lord.
Monsale slipped an arm around her waist and drew her into his embrace. Naomi met his gaze through a sheen of tears. “I’m sorry I was a stubborn ass. I held out thinking you would come to your senses. That you would understand why I didn’t want to be on that list. But I miscalculated, and then it was all too late. I thought I had lost you.”
He brushed a tender kiss on her lips. “I should never have asked Kitty to put the list together. There is, and always has been just one woman I wanted by my side. And that’s you Naomi.”
“Are you sure? You’ve kept me at arm’s length for so long that I truly began to doubt it. You were and will always be my first choice in life. But it has to be the same for you.”
“I’ve been a coward when it comes to love. With everything else in my life, I’ve always had control. I held back because I was afraid to trust someone with my heart. But if the way you have behaved over the past few days has taught me anything, it’s that you are the only woman I know I can love.”
She kissed him back. “You know I hate you for putting us through all this?”
A gentle nod was his reply.
His lips captured hers with a second kiss. He pulled her hard against him as he deepened the kiss and plundered her mouth. She surrendered, yielding everything he demanded of her. Allowing him to finally claim what had always been his—her love.
For the longest time, they stood kissing and holding one another. The rest of the world didn’t exist. It was only them.
When Monsale finally released Naomi’s lips, he lay her head against his chest, brushing his hand over her wind-swept hair. “I hurt you and for that, I shall always be sorry. I love you, Naomi.”
She closed her eyes and sighed. Finally. All those long years waiting. Praying. Hoping. Hearing him say the words seemed almost surreal.
“Now what happens? You still need to marry, and you only have five days,” she said.
He kissed the top of her head. “That’s why I am here now. To talk to you. To confess all my sins.”
Over the years he had held on to the promise of finding his duchess and never having to reveal all the details of his sordid, dark past. But this was Naomi, and if he was serious about creating a loving marriage, he was going to have to tell her everything. As much as was possible.
“Come and sit with me, we need to talk,” he said.
Picking up the roses, he handed them to Naomi. “These are for you. The best blooms from the hothouse. Grown here in Kent.”
“They are stunning,” she said.
He hated himself for having put that look of pained confusion on her face. For what his stubborn, determined heart had done to Naomi. It had refused to love.
I don’t deserve you. But I will spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy.
Picking up his sword, Monsale guided Naomi to a small inlet, further away from the shore. It was out of the chilly wind and private. They sat on the dry sand, with Naomi still clutching the precious roses in her hands.
“What do you want to talk about?” she asked.
“I want to tell you a little more about the man that I am. There are things I have done in the past for which I am deeply ashamed. And also, there are some things which you have to accept I can never tell you. If you did know about them, your life wouldn’t be safe.”
She brushed her fingers over one of the pale pink petals. “I know you and your father were privateers.”
He huffed. “You have no idea how much I wish that was the extent of things. Yes, we did have letters of mark from the British government which permitted us to conduct acts of war against England’s enemies, but we went well beyond those agreements. We were pirates. I was running pirate ships out of Cable Bay, Bermuda by the time I was eleven. I am still wanted by both the Americans and the French for piracy and crimes on the high sea. And that is only a fraction of the wicked deeds I have done in my life.”
There I have finally said it. I am more than just a rogue.
Lifting her head, she turned and met his gaze. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you should know before you agree to bind yourself to me. The rumors about me which you no doubt have heard over the years are more than likely true.”
“But Harry was involved in much of those things, wasn’t he?”
Monsale chuckled. “Your brother hasn’t a clue as to half the things I have done. He never really got his hands dirty. Whereas I have been up to my elbows in filth.”
She shifted, setting the roses aside, and taking his hand. “You want me to know about the life you have led. Yes, that is something I need to know. What is more important for me, however, are your plans for the future. I want to know what sort of man the father of my children will be, and if you intend to change your ways. That is of course if you have it in mind to offer me marriage.”
He had only a handful of days left in which to secure a wife. Time was of the essence. But Naomi had to be walking into this marriage with open eyes. To understand how things were and decide if she could live with a man who had never known a life outside of crime.
“Over the past year, and especially since Harry and George both married, I have been slowly moving away from the less savory side of things. Trying to set my business dealings on a more honest footing. When Stephen took on a wife and family, it made me realize I had to make those changes at a faster rate. All of us agreed that Stephen’s brother Toby, shouldn’t be raised around criminal activities.”
If anyone had told him several years ago, that it would be a six-year-old boy who finally put paid to many of his dodgy dealings, Monsale would have laughed long and hard in their faces. But the innocent Toby Moore had compelled him to take stock of his life. To measure and assess his worth. He had found himself coming up well short. Unworthy of the Monsale title.
Reaching into his coat, he pulled out his pistol. Holding it by the end of the barrel he offered it to her. As soon as Naomi had taken it, he stuffed his hand into another pocket and withdrew a knife. She took that as well.
Harry had talked about the need for grand gestures, this was one of the most important of them. “I am laying my weapons aside. For you.”
Naomi cleared her throat. “What about the knife you have strapped to your ankle?”
Oh.
He reached down and unstrapped the knife. When she continued to hold his gaze, Monsale sighed. Naomi really did have the measure of him. Reluctantly, he produced a second pistol and yet another knife from the deep pockets of his coat. He lay them on the sand, next to his sword.
“I think this might be the first time since I was a small child that I haven’t had a weapon on my person. To tell you the truth I feel a little naked,” he said.
Naomi quirked an eyebrow at his remark. “It is possible for one to get about life without being armed to the teeth. I promise to protect you from any and all harm.”
He offered her his hand, intending that they head back to the castle. She shook her head. “Tell me what really happened with you and Lady Euphemia.”
“Nothing. The night I danced with her at the ball…” He flinched as Naomi reached out and punched him hard on the arm. “Ow. What was that for?”
“For dancing with another woman. You cad. You held me at bay all those years and yet, you tripped the light fantastic with her.”
If it weren’t for the edge of pain in her voice, he would have laughed. She was jealous over him dancing with Lady Euphemia, a woman he had never intended to marry.
But he understood her anger. He had hurt Naomi. Humiliated her in front of other people. His friends and her family were all well aware of her attraction to him. At the time he had simply been paying her back for her refusing to put her name on the list and hadn’t put much thought into what he was doing.
Avoiding the weapons, he moved, and knelt in front of Naomi. Taking her face in his hands, he leaned in close. “That was a selfish and thoughtless thing to do. I promise I will never knowingly hurt you ever again. And all my dances are now yours.”
He captured her mouth in a warm, tender kiss. Their lips and tongues now moving in a slow, familiar embrace. Kissing Naomi was fast becoming his favorite pastime.
“What is to happen now? I mean since the wedding is off, you are still in a bind,” asked Naomi when they finally broke the kiss.
Monsale was enjoying the simple pleasure of staring into Naomi’s greenish blue eyes. He had always had a particular appreciation of the sharp intelligence which sparkled in them. With their foreheads pressed together, he was more than happy for this moment to continue.
But she was right. A wedding was still in order.
“That wedding might well have bitten the dust, but no one says we cannot have a different one.”
He climbed to his feet, offering her his hand. “Come. Let you and I finally put all this other noise and nonsense behind us. Everyone else will be assembled at the castle, waiting for the marriage service. We shouldn’t disappoint them.”
A grinning Naomi placed her hand in his, and he helped her to stand. They were soon on their way back to Monsale Castle, the roses still cradled lovingly in her arms.
Monsale chanced a look back over his shoulder at the weapons he had left behind. The grand gesture having been delivered, there was no need to abandon them. He would send a servant back for them as soon as he got home.
Sharp weapons should never be left to go to waste.