Seven Wicked Nights (Turner #1.5)

“No, Mama, I don’t think there is.”


A knock sounded at the door. Cleo was already on her way to answer it. Gareth had said he’d give them a few minutes, no more. When she’d asked if he didn’t trust her and Helen, he merely raised his eyebrows in that way he had and said he didn’t intend to let the wrong engagement endure a moment longer than necessary. And now, as she let him into the room, part of her almost looked forward to hearing what he intended to say.

“Your Grace!” Sir George hauled his weeping wife to her feet and bowed, scarlet-faced. “You must pardon us—a family affair—”

“Indeed.” Gareth turned to Helen. “Have you told them?”

She beamed back. “Yes.”

“Excellent. You’ll find Blair in my mother’s suite, no doubt consuming a very large breakfast. Mother thought a spot of privacy would be best.”

Helen laughed. “How right she is! Thank you, Your Grace.” She bobbed a curtsey and hurried from the room, leaving her parents staring after her in open-mouthed astonishment.

Gareth faced them. “Sir George, we must discuss the marriage contract.”

“Er—yes. I suppose we must.” Sir George licked his lips. “My daughter tells me you no longer wish to marry her. That is breach, sir.”

Gareth arched one brow. “Do you intend to sue me?”

The baronet seemed to be scrambling for thoughts. “I must consider my options, sir. There was a very large settlement, you might recall—”

“Ah yes, the money that was to save you from penury, at least for a time. I have a strong suspicion it wouldn’t have lasted very long. You’re not a thrifty man, Sir George.”

To Cleo’s amazement her father turned pale. “A gentleman has expenses,” he protested. “But—but if you refuse to marry my daughter, I insist on satisfaction….”

“Oh, I intend to marry your daughter.” Gareth turned to look at Cleo, his dark eyes gleaming. “As soon as possible.”

For a moment her parents stared at him, uncomprehending. Then Millicent gasped and looked at Cleo. “You?” she whispered blankly. “Cleo, dearest—”

“You want Cleo?” Sir George seemed to realize how appalled he sounded, and rushed on. “That is—it’s such a shock, Your Grace. She’s nothing at all like Helen—”

“I know,” Gareth said, still watching Cleo with such heat in his gaze, she found herself blushing—and smiling so happily, her cheeks hurt. “And she suits me perfectly.”

“Oh.” The baronet seemed at a loss. “Well, then, I suppose I could give my consent….”

“Your consent?” Gareth turned back to him. “I haven’t come to ask for your consent. Cleo is an independent woman of legal age. Her consent is all I need.” He winked at her. “Will you still have me, darling?”

“You know I will,” she told him, her pulse speeding up as she remembered having him already, up against his study door.

There was another moment of shocked silence. “Cleo,” said Millicent, her voice trembling. “Cleo, darling, you’ll be a duchess.”

Cleo tore her eyes off Gareth and faced her mother. “I never asked for that, but since I love a duke, I suppose I shall have to endure it.”

Millicent blinked, then tittered nervously. “Don’t be silly, dear! You’re very fortunate….”

“I am,” she replied, giving up any pretense of not staring at Gareth with her heart in her eyes. “Even though he’s a duke.”

Her parents froze. Gareth laughed. “A duke in love.” He glanced at the older couple. “I do apologize for any fright you might have felt when Helen went missing. I believe she was worried that her choice wouldn’t be accepted calmly and reasonably, for some reason.” Sir George frowned, Gareth’s dry tone obviously striking home, but Millicent was too anxious to please.

“Helen’s always been such a good girl! I don’t know what got into her, Your Grace.”

“Blair is an excellent man, and he’s as deeply in love with her as she is with him,” Gareth went on. “I wish them every happiness.”

“And you…. And Cleo….” Millicent made a helpless motion, still looking dazed. “You really want to marry Cleo?”

“Desperately.” He put out his hand, and Cleo let him draw her into his arm. And to think, just a few hours ago she’d thought today would be the worst of her life….

Her father cleared his throat. “But the settlements….”

“You may have the money,” said Gareth, gazing down at Cleo with a smile. “You may even keep the land. She’s all I want.”

There was a long moment of silence. “My,” said Millicent blankly. “Oh my.” She mustered a smile for Cleo. “You’ll be mistress of Kingstag Castle, dear.”

Cleo closed her eyes. That was the last thing she wanted to hear about. Good Lord, could her mother think of anything else?