“A father.” His hand stilled and he raised his head, his gaze searching hers. “Charity?”
She took his hand in hers and pressed them both to her belly’s gentle swell. “We are going to have a baby, Neville.”
“Oh my love,” he said, his countenance a mixture of awe and love so profound that she had to blink to clear away the furious rush of tears. “I could not ask for more.”
“Nor could I,” she said.
Then, the Venus kissed her viscount once more.
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Dear Reader,
Thank you for readingThe Venus and the Viscount! I hope you adored Neville and Charity as much as I do. More Fangfoss Manor house party fun is on its way to you! (And if you’ve started with this book, do be sure to find the entire series here. Each book is stand-alone, and you don’t want to miss them!) Next up is Melanie Pennypacker and Frank Crymble’s story inThe Buccaneer and the Bastard.
A few notes on this book—the paintingVenus at Her Bathis a product of my imagination, as is Charity’s friend, Peter Richards. Charity’s cold cream, Lady Perfect’s, first appeared in my bookLady Wicked, and the book she is reading,Confessions of a Sinful Earl, first appeared in my bookLady Ruthless. Speaking of which, have you read myNotorious Ladies of Londonseries? They’re packed with strong heroines, swoon-worthy heroes, steamy heat, and sweeping emotion, and you can find the series list here.
Do read on for a sneak peek at what’s to come inThe Buccaneer and the Bastard!
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Melanie Pennypacker was notthe sort of woman to let a little something like the standards and protocol of society or the traditions of the aristocracy stand in her way. She was an American, after all, and the daughter of a proud and industrious father. For years, she’d managed to navigate the sometimes choppy waters of British high society more or less on her own, positioning herself perfectly to achieve her one goal.
And that goal was not to marry a nobleman, as everyone assumed it was.
“Melanie? Dear Melanie, I know that you are nearby,” Miss Julia, her former teacher and hostess of the house party at Fangfoss Manor called out as she swept down the hall outside of the parlor where Melanie had concealed herself as soon as she received the letter from her godfather, John Wannamaker. “I could have sworn I saw you just a moment ago, dear,” Miss Julia called again.
Melanie swore under her breath in a decidedly unladylike fashion and squeezed behind a curio filled with Roman artifacts as Miss Julia poked her head into the room.
“Melanie?” Miss Julia scanned the room. “I do wish you would be more agreeable with the lovely young men I’ve picked out for you. Why, Lord Milford was just saying that he found your exotic, American mannerisms quite refreshing. Did you hear that, dear?”
Melanie held her breath in the silence that followed. She waited, perfectly still, until Miss Julia stepped back into the hall, continuing her search.
“Melanie, are you in here?” Miss Julia’s voice was quieter and her footsteps farther away.
Still, Melanie waited until she was certain Miss Julia—she truly needed to remember to call the woman Lady Fangfoss now—was no longer nearby before slipping out of her hiding space. She could do with an undisturbed spot far away from the guests at the house party where she could read her letter from Uncle John in peace.
There was only one place that she could think of on short notice where the likes of Lady Fangfoss or the men she’d invited to the party to parade in front of her, or even her dear, beloved friends would never look for her, and that was the secluded terrace on the roof at the end of one of the hallways in the attic where the servants had their rooms.
Being careful not to draw any notice as she scurried along the halls, Melanie set off for the roof at once. It was the middle of the afternoon and Lady Fangfoss had most of the houseguests involved in a treasure hunt of some sort in the hedge maze, so Melanie was able to make it all the way up to the top of the house without being stopped. She’d discovered the terrace completely by accident shortly after her arrival, when she’d gone exploring in the house. Not only was it quiet and separated from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the house, it had a magnificent view of the Yorkshire countryside.
As soon as she reached the fresh air and solitude of the terrace, Melanie tore open the letter from her godfather. Uncle John was one of the most successful merchants in all of Philadelphia, and the department store he’d built was a place of wonder and an inspiration for Melanie. Under her godfather’s tutelage, without him even knowing he was teaching her, Melanie had learned everything she needed to know about opening and operating a new-style department store. Her entire reason for journeying across the Atlantic and attending finishing school in London was to establish herself so that she could open a store of her own there.
The letter from her godfather, however, did not contain what she’d hoped it would.
After a greeting and news of his family, the letter read, “While I am excessively proud of your ambition, my dear, commerce simply isn’t something that a young woman of your status does. I have no doubt at all that you are capable, but business is a man’s game. Women simply do not have the mental capacity for it. You would do best to stick to your original plans for England and find yourself a strong, wise, and ambitious husband. I’m certain England is filled with young men who would complement your headstrong and determined nature. Trust me, my dear, marriage is the solution for you.”
Melanie lowered her arms with a frustrated huff and stared out at the horizon. Marriage, marriage, marriage. That was all anyone thought she was capable of. But Melanie knew better. Yes, it was unusual for a woman to go into business, but it was not unheard of. More and more, women were taking their lives into their own hands instead of relying on marriage to—
Melanie gasped as inspiration hit her. Perhaps Uncle John was right after all. Perhaps marriage was the solution to her problems. Uncle John had suggested she find a man whose ambitions were a compliment to her own. He hadn’t said she should give up her dreams for a husband, though. Perhaps the solution to all of her problems was staring her right in the face. She didn’t need to find a husband to take care of her and pamper her and give her a title and social position, she needed a husband to go into business with her.
And Melanie knew just who that husband could be….
Want more? GetThe Buccaneer and the Bastardnow!
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I’m also thrilledto announce a brand new series! Read on for a sneak peek atThe Detective Duke, Book One in myUnexpected Lordsseries…
