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CHAPTER EIGHT

MAX KNEW HE should have said something to Harriet earlier this evening to allay her concerns, but his head was in a muddle after dealing with an angry Covington, and exhausted friends who had scoured the village of Pendrake along with him in the hope of finding Beatrice. Upon returning home, he then had to face riled debutantes who expected to be entertained, and then to have Simon show up with a letter for Harriet that further infuriated Covington who was insulted his daughter had not written the letter to him.

“Who is she to my daughter? Some penniless princess from an inconsequential royal house. I am Beatrice’s father and deserve better than no word at all.”

Max wanted to clarify that Harriet wasn’t a princess, but the matter wasn’t worth raising again. “Covington, meaning no disrespect…you have thwarted your daughter’s heartfelt desire for years now. What did you expected her to do?”

“Obey the father who loves her and knows what is best for her. I raised her and gave her everything in life. After all I have done for her, she runs off and betrays me by marrying some fourth son. Have I not been outrageously wronged?”

“If you wish for my honest opinion, my answer would be no, you have not been wronged. Arlington is a good man and has loved your daughter all of his adult life. Is that not worth something?”

“She could have been happily married to you, Pendrake. Why should she settle for less?”

“She does not consider Arlington less. Would it be so awful to let them make a life together? He is decently set up, has a house and servants. She will be cared for even if you cut her off. Why do it when she loves you and wants to maintain contact with you? She is your only child, Covington. I am not saying what she did by defying you and going behind your back was right, but it is done. Accept it and reconcile with her. You only spite yourself by rejecting her love.”

And he ought to do the same with Harriet, for Max knew he had given her the wrong impression.

Harriet.

Of all people, Beatrice had confided in George Comeford’s little sister.

He knew why Beatrice had chosen her.

Harriet was the true diamond among these ladies.

But this incident had taken a toll on Harriet’s gentle heart. She had made her excuses and retired early because she was distraught and thought he blamed her for Beatrice’s misdeeds.

In truth, he wasn’t blaming her at all.

He was in love with Harriet.

The frown she’d noticed on him had nothing to do with casting blame on her. He was perplexed and debating what to do about his feelings for her.

His head was telling him to be cautious.

Had he not spent his entire life being trained to be wary?

But Harriet was a gem.

Why not declare his love?

After all, in a sense he had known her for years.

Perhaps that knowledge came only through her letters to her brother, but George had also spoken of her quite often, his heart swelling with pride and affection as they sat around a battlefield campfire to warm their frozen hands.

Was she not exactly as George had described her?

In truth, even prettier than he had described.

He went to bed thinking of Harriet, and had hardly closed his eyes by the time morning came and his valet strode in to toss the drapes aside and let in the blinding light. “I’m going to have you drawn and quartered, Holt.”

“Very good, Your Grace,” he responded, completely unperturbed.

“And boiled in oil.”

He set out Max’s shaving gear. “Of course, Your Grace.”

Max laughed. “Would you happen to know if anyone else is awake yet?”

“I do believe everyone else is sleeping still. Quite some excitement yesterday.”

“Yes, an understatement. I’ll look in on Lord Covington once he is awake. I’m sure he passed a difficult night.”

“Indeed, the poor man. I’ll ask his valet to alert me once he is up and dressed.”

“Thank you, Holt.” Max got out of bed and readied himself for the day.

The person he really wanted to see was Harriet, but she was not at the breakfast table when he strode into the dining room the next morning.

He had his coffee, thinking she might soon come down. But when she did not, he returned upstairs and knocked lightly at her bedroom door.

Alice opened the door and informed him that Harriet wasn’t there.

“Do you know where she is, Alice?”

“No, Your Grace. She was already up and out of the house when I came in to assist her.”

He spotted his housekeeper bustling down the hall. “Mrs. Watkins, have you seen Miss Comeford this morning?”

“I saw her go out earlier, but I cannot say where she went. Perhaps you will find her in the garden or in the chapel you so excellently scrubbed clean the other day.”

“Ah, yes.” He turned and hurried to the chapel, hoping he would find her there.

The air was warm and laden with moisture, an obvious sign of impending rain. He hurried his pace, hoping to square things with Harriet and get her back to the house before they were both caught in a downpour and drenched.

The chapel door was open, so he quietly walked in.

His heart hitched.

Harriet sat in the first pew, handkerchief in hand and sobbing.

He strode forward and settled beside her. “Why the tears, Harriet?”

She regarded him with trepidation. “I’m so sorry I’ve let you down. I don’t know how to make it up to you.”

He frowned.

Did she believe he was blaming her for Beatrice’s elopement?

“And then to find out Beatrice had been married all along,” she said, her breath hitching as she cried and tried to talk at the same time.

“How can it possibly be your fault?” he asked gently.

“I don’t know. But you were so disappointed in me.”

He saw so much pain in her eyes as she glanced at him.

“Your Grace, I do not need to stay on if you wish me to go. Only, I haven’t a shilling to my name. I don’t know where I would go or what I would do. I haven’t even the funds to get to London. It shames me so much to beg for your assistance.”

“Harriet,” he said with a soft growl, raking a hand through his hair. “Do not ever beg me for anything again.”

“Oh.” She now looked as though he had stabbed her through the heart. “You are that angry with me?”

Angry? What had he just said to make her think so?

Bollocks.

Do not ever beg me for anything again.

She had taken those words as a rejection of her when he’d meant the opposite. “No. No, I am not angry with you at all. You never need never beg me for anything, Harriet…never need beg me because…” He sighed. “Because I will gladly give you all that is mine to give.”

She stared at him, obviously confused. “What do you mean?”

He let out a breath. “I am in love with you, Harriet. My secret, incognito princess from an unknown realm. I am completely and thoroughly in love with you, and have been ever since I set eyes on you in my courtyard the day my guests arrived.”

Her mouth gaped open, but as his words penetrated, she smiled as only she knew how to smile and leave him breathless.

He took her hand in his. “What shall I do about this situation, Harry?”

She said nothing, just stared at him and looked as though she was about to cry again.

Oh, gad.

Did she think he was asking her to be his mistress?

Good work, Max.

Leave it to him to make a bollocks of his marriage proposal.

He gave her hand a light squeeze. “I do not want you to leave, my lovely Harriet. In fact, I’d like you to stay with me forever and be my wife.”

She gasped. “What?”

“I wish you to marry me.”

“Marry you?”

He grinned. “Yes, and perhaps I ought to thank Beatrice for showing me the importance of grabbing happiness when it is offered. Why should I follow ton rules and be miserable just to please lords and ladies who do not care a fig about me? So, I intend to follow my own rules and offer for the one lady who makes my heart swell with joy, who beat me handily at scrubbing floors, and who has the kindest, most generous nature. Is this not a perfect foundation for a marriage?”

“Scrubbing floors is a must,” she said with a gentle laugh as she used her handkerchief to dry her tears.

And then she cast him another of her sunbeam smiles that was bright enough to light up the entire chapel.

“What’s your answer, Harry? Do you think you could love me?”

She laughed. “ Dear heaven . Since we are making our confessions, then I shall tell you mine. I have been in love with you since before I ever met you. However, I did have a moment of panic when I saw a stunningly handsome fellow striding toward me from the stable as I stood in your courtyard and felt I could fall in love with him . Then it turned out he was you , so I was quite relieved that I was no fickle miss.”

He shook his head and laughed.

“I do love you so very much, Your Grace.”

“Max,” he said with insistence. “Surely, you can now call me Max.”

“All right…Max.” She let out a soft sigh. “I tried hard not to admit my feelings. Dukes do not marry schoolteachers.”

“Well, this one does. Will you have me, Harriet?”

“Yes, and if this is a dream then do not ever wake me,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him. “Yes again with all my heart.”

He wrapped his arms around her, something he’d ached to do from the moment he’d set eyes on her. “Good…and now I have one other request of you.”

She looked up at him. “A request, Your Grace?”

“The name is Max. Have you forgotten it already?”

She smiled and cast him a sweet apology. “No, Max. I shall never forget you or your name, for you are etched in my heart.”

“Good, because I consider us bound from this day forth. You shall be my wife and partner in life. Of course, you may call me your beloved, or any other endearment you see fit.”

She nodded. “Oh, I think I shall have many of those for you. My love. My darling. My dearest. I am so much in love with you. But it cannot come as a surprise. All women fall in love with you. Well, except for Beatrice. But I think you would have won her over had she met you before Arlington.”

“Oh, of course,” he said with a laugh, not quite so prideful as to believe every woman would want him.

“Truly,” Harriet insisted, joining in with a light laugh before she grew serious again. “I do love you with all my heart. If this is enough for you, then I accept your kind offer of marriage with all my gratitude and my sacred promise to always be honest, faithful, and loving to you.”

“Excellent. Now there is another thing we must do.”

She nodded again. “Oh, yes. Tell your grandmother.”

He chuckled. “She already knows. I spoke to her before coming to find you because she deserved the courtesy and I also wanted to make certain she would accept you. Not that I needed her blessing or ever doubted she would approve.”

“Did she? Does she?”

“Yes, she claims to have known all along that we were meant for each other, especially once she learned we were cleaning the chapel. She knew I had to love you if I was willing to get down on my knees and scrub floors for you.”

Harriet laughed again. “It seems this is a necessity when one is truly in love. But you needn’t fear I will ever ask this of you again.”

“But that’s just it, Harriet. You can always ask it of me. I would do it because I love you. But to get back to the point.”

“What was your point?”

“I must do one more thing…and that is to kiss you. Close your eyes, love.”

She gasped, smiled, and then allowed her eyes to flutter shut.

As he pressed his lips down on Harriet’s and felt their soft give, Max knew he had chosen the right gem to take as his wife.

She responded with ardor and acceptance, with innocent yearning and an unawakened passion that he longed to fulfill upon their marriage.

He sank his mouth deeper onto hers.

With this kiss, he gave her his heart together with the promise of a wealth of years in happiness and faithfulness. As her body pressed closer to his, her curves molding perfectly to the hard planes of his body as though they had been cut from a single bolt of heavenly cloth, she promised the same in return.

The kiss was deep and endless, their mouths warm and hungry as they sought each other and pledged their hearts.

The rain began to fall outside the chapel and was soon a downpour. “Looks like we’re stuck here, Harriet.”

She laughed softly, looking up at him with sparkling eyes and so much love in them that he knew there could never be anyone else for him. “Oh, dear,” she said. “Whatever shall we do?”

Harriet was perfect for him.

“I could continue to kiss you until the rain stops,” he suggested.

She nodded. “I like that idea.”

“Good,” he whispered and kissed her again as the rain gently pattered against the stained glass windows.

Had George known he would fall in love with Harriet? Is this why his friend had sent his sister to him?

Was he smiling down on them now?

He would make certain Harriet’s brother was honored during their wedding ceremony.

As thunder now roared overhead, Max kissed Harriet again.

Even as the rain finally slowed to a light mist, he took his time escorting Harriet back to the house. There was little left to do but announce to his guests that he was no longer available.

This duke was decidedly and irrevocably taken.