“Beth!”

  Beth paid absolutely no heed to the cries of family or servants. How could she? Hugh had been here just moments ago. He had brought back her brother, which did not make any sense but lingered in her mind, turning over and over again as her thoughts raced.

  Where was he?

  Skirts flying, Beth raced along the street, passing gentlemen who were not him. Then she saw in the distance a man with dejected shoulders and blond hair.

  “Hugh!” she cried.

  The figure halted, turned, and her stomach lurched. Beth ran on, ignoring all the gasps of passersby and stares of those on the other side of the street, until she stopped, gasping for breath, before the one man she had until moments ago promised she’d never see again.

  Hugh Shardlow. The Duke of Martock. He would always be Hugh to her.

  “Hugh,” Beth panted.

  “Dear God, what on earth is it?” Hugh said urgently, lifting her chin with his finger.

  His touch seared her and she knew in that moment that it was no use. Try as she might, furious as she may attempt to be, she could not retain her fury at Hugh.

  He was a man who had suffered much, and had attempted to overcome it. He had gone to France for ignoble reasons, perhaps, but had he not undone all that by helping her? And though she knew not how, even after she had given up and returned home, he had stayed. He had found Matthew.

  He had brought her brother home safely.

  “You,” Beth said simply.

  Her heart was racing, and for a moment, she was unsure as to her reception. She had been so harsh, the last time they had spoken. The pain had been real then, and she could not understand how it had melted away, but it was gone.

  All that remained was affection.

  “I hope your…your brother is in the health you had hoped,” Hugh said formally.

  Beth bit her lip. He spoke as though they were strangers. Perhaps it was best that way—if he had no intention to—

  “Thank you,” Beth breathed, her gaze meeting his. “Thank you, Hugh.”

  His jaw twitched. “I didn’t do it for thanks.”

  “I know. Because though you may hate to admit it, you are an honorable man,” Beth said, just a hint of a smile on her lips.

  For a moment, she thought she had gone too far, but then Hugh’s lips quirked. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

  “I do,” said Beth simply. “And I—I’m sorry for what I said—”

  “No, I am the one who should apologize,” Hugh said fiercely. “After all the trust you had placed in me, I owed it to you—”

  And Beth did what she had wanted to do the moment she had realized it was Hugh. Realized how much she cared for him. Realized she could not live without him.

  She leaned up and kissed him boldly on the lips.

  If she had been worried the kiss was unwanted, she did not have to worry for long. Hugh pulled her tight into his arms; his hands immediately clasped her waist. He deepened the kiss as he tilted her head, moaning at the intensity of their passion.

  Pleasure was rippling through Beth, all the pleasure of his kiss and all the promise of more. It was with great difficulty that she broke the kiss and grinned up into Hugh’s dazed face.

  “I hope you know this means you’ll be marrying me,” she teased, warmth spreading across her chest.

  “I’m not sure about that,” said Hugh with a dry laugh. “You’re an absolute handful.”

  “Well, I have a duke for a brother-in-law now,” Beth said with a raised eyebrow. “I am sure he can find the money for a substantial dowry.”

  “Now you’re speaking my language,” Hugh said, dipping his lips to claim hers once more. “After all, a man should know what he’s worth.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  October 31, 1810

  There could not be more happiness than this.

  Well. Perhaps in a few weeks. When the woman riding alongside Hugh, autumn sunlight shimmering in her raven curls, would become his wife.

  “You’re looking at me again, aren’t you?”

  Hugh grinned. “Now whatever gave you that idea?”

  “Because whenever you do, I can feel the heat of your gaze on the back of my neck,” said Beth with a grin, twisting in her saddle to eye him beadily. “I don’t know how you do it.”

  “It’s the power of my affection for you,” he teased. “It’s a mighty powerful force.”

  Their laughter made a few other riders along the North Carriage Drive of Hyde Park peer at them curiously, but Hugh didn’t care.

  Why should he? For the first time in his life, he was out and about in polite society and all the stares were for a wonderful reason. Because he was with the woman who had bought his heart.

  “People are staring, you know,” she said conversationally as their steeds walked slowly along.

  Hugh shrugged. “I suppose they are. Let them.”

  “It’s easy for you, you are accustomed to such notoriety,” Beth pointed out, nudging her mare closer to his stallion. “I am not used to…to all this.”

  By all this, Hugh assumed she meant…well. Everything.

  The way they had so swiftly fallen into the habit of riding together every morning. How they spent every afternoon hidden away in his house, kissing furiously. The luxury he had attempted to pour into her lap. The way he had immediately declared that Midnight, his darkest mare, was hers. The looks they received once the news had escaped into society.

  The Duke of Martock, engaged to be married? A Martock, from that scandalous family, finding a match with a family of no birth, no wealth, no nothing? A mere upstart!

  Hugh had been entertained by the headlines, the gossipy paragraphs in the scandal sheets. Even Beth had managed a smile when she read, quite erroneously, it had all been thanks to her eldest sister’s advantageous marriage.

  “Thrown into the path of another duke, I think was the phrase,” she had said dryly to him only that morning.

  Hugh had laughed then, and he chuckled now.

  What did he care for society’s umbrage? Once upon a time, it would have mattered. It would have hurt, the idea he had once again lived up to the very worst of society’s expectations. That he had, once again, followed his father’s damned path.

  But now he was being written about for a different reason. One he rather liked.

  “You honestly do not mind so many people looking?” Hugh asked quietly.

  “Far be it from me to restrict their entertainment,” quipped Beth.

  Joy rushed through him as he laughed. Oh, this woman. He had never thought to meet someone who could make him smile so easily. It felt as though he had not smiled properly for years. Hardly ten minutes could go by without his lips parting in a grin. Beth saw the joy in the world just as swiftly as he saw the pain. Perhaps together, she could help him see more of the possibilities.

  “How are you doing on Midnight?”

  Beth made a face. “I am not sure whether she likes me.”

  “Likes you?” Hugh glanced at the horse. She seemed perfectly calm. “It doesn’t appear that you have any difficulties.”

  “I suppose I am not a natural horsewoman. Midnight evidently has better ideas about how I should be riding,” said Beth with a sigh. “It is painful to disappoint her.”

  Hugh rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re going to fall out with your new mare.”

  His voice lowered, just a touch, as Lady Romeril rode by in her carriage. She met his gaze with a glare, turning to prolong the irritated expression until her carriage turned a corner.

  “Why on earth would Lady Romeril look at you like that?” Beth asked, astounded.

  “Apparently, she should have been the first to know of our engagement.”

  “First to—”

  “It is just her way,” Hugh said heavily. “Lady Romeril prefers to be in the center of society, the first to learn any gossip. Apparently, her snubbing me at every opportunity the last five years wasn’t intended to make me feel ostracized. Lady Romeril’s words.”

  It had been all Hugh could do, at the time, not to laugh in Lady Romeril’s face, but he had managed it.

  After all, the old biddy didn’t know what she was talking about. After receiving the Cut from so many in society, he had thought darkly, it was a wonder he had bothered to announce his engagement at all.

  He might not have, if Beth had not insisted.

  “Don’t you worry, I am getting the hang of it.”

  Hugh blinked. Beth was grinning. “The hang of Lady Romeril?”

  “Goodness, no! I meant the hang of Midnight!”

  Hugh relaxed. Well, that certainly made a lot more sense. “I suppose it was easier when you were riding in my arms.”

  Though he jested, he could not help a little sadness tinging his words. Everything had been so much simpler when they were in France.

  Not just because Beth had not known his true rank, although that was certainly a factor. No, it was more complicated. In France, they could speak openly, laugh together, even share the delights of lovemaking.

  Hugh’s loins stirred, and he tried not to think about precisely what he wanted to do to Beth the moment they returned to the stables.

  But here in London, they had to behave. They could not be as open as he wished. He couldn’t even ride with her in his arms. What would society say?

  “And you’re disappointed, aren’t you?” said Beth, cutting through his thoughts.

  Hugh blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

  There was an altogether too knowing look on his love’s face. “You’re disappointed, aren’t you? That we cannot ride together as we did in France.”

  Hugh sighed. “There is no point in attempting to keep anything from you, is there?”

  “I would hope not,” Beth shot back.

  Warmth spread through his chest. It was a glorious day, but rain could have been pouring down in torrents. As long as he was with Beth, nothing else really mattered.

  It was laughable now, thinking of his life before he met her. Hugh could hardly believe he had been so lonely, so angry, so bitter.

  Now all that had fallen away. He had something in his life far greater than all the pains of the past. If he was careful, he would treat Beth the way she deserved and he would never have any grounds to worry about losing her.

  Except…

  Hugh’s stomach turned. Except what he could not control, that was.

  “Hugh?”

  He looked up. Beth had concern in her eyes.

  “It’s nothing,” he said hastily.

  He should have known better.

  “If it’s distressing you, it is certainly not nothing,” Beth said firmly, slowing her steed to match his pace. “Please, tell me.”

  Hugh swallowed. There was no easy way to put this. Perhaps he should have had this conversation sooner. The truth was, he was afraid. It would give her the chance to rescind on their agreement, and he wasn’t sure if his heart could bear it.

  “I just…I have shared with you before, even before you knew me, that my family is not respected,” Hugh said quietly.

  Beth bit her lip. “You did.”

  “And you must have seen how I am treated by so many here in London,” Hugh continued.

  The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to it—but as an autumnal breeze blew, he knew he had to say this.

  Beth nodded. “Yes, but—”

  “Sometimes I wonder if it would be fair to give you the name Martock,” Hugh said in a rush. “You will not be welcome in so many homes, our reputation will make it almost impossible for you to—”

  “Hugh—”

  “Almack’s will be out of the question; you saw how Lady Romeril treated me—”

  “Hugh, will you just listen for—”

  But Hugh could not stop. The words were pouring out of him, thick and fast, as all his concerns swelled to the surface. What had he been thinking, offering marriage to a young woman as beautiful and vibrant as Beth? Dragging her to his level, making it impossible for her to enter society as she deserved?

  “And even if someone does invite you, everyone will be—”

  “Hugh Shardlow, are you having cold feet?” Beth demanded.

  Hugh blinked. “What? No!”

  “Are you absolutely sure?” Beth asked, her gaze fixed on his. “Because forgive me for saying this, but you are acting in this moment as though you do not wish to marry me!”

  Drawing his horse to a complete stop, Hugh stared in horror at the woman who meant everything to him.

  “That is not it,” he said firmly. Dear God, to think he had given her that impression! “It is more…well. The reputation of the house of Martock is so poor, I cannot help but feel guilty. You will, I am afraid to say, have a hard time. This isn’t going to be like your sister. The Sedleys are well respected—”

  “This has nothing to do with my sister, and everything to do with how I feel about you,” Beth said firmly. Then she added, as Hugh swallowed, “Which is that I am completely in love with you, you dolt.”

  “Beth!”

  “Well,” she said with a laugh. “Hugh, I gave you myself before I even knew your name. Does that not suggest my affections lie somewhere elsewhere than prestige and power?”

  Hugh tried to take a long, deep breath. That was true, he could not argue with that. Beth’s affection was evident, had been from the moment they had first kissed. It had not waned in that time, but grown.

  And he loved her. Beyond anything. If he had to give up his riches for her, he would.

  So why was this so difficult?

  “Hugh Shardlow, we are going to make a break with the past,” Beth said quietly. She reached out and took his hand in hers. Hugh felt a shock of desire and devotion rush through him. “We’re creating something new. You are not your father. That way of doing things, that way of being? That ends with him. We are starting something different.”

  Something twisted painfully in Hugh’s chest, but it was immediately soothed by a balm of peace. Hearing that from Beth? It transformed everything.

  He swallowed. “Everyone thinks they know me.”

  Beth raised an eyebrow. “Well I don’t know how. I still feel like I barely know you.”

  There was no other option but to laugh. “Goodness, should I be concerned?”

  “No, I just meant—”

  “I know what you meant,” said Hugh softly.

  Beth’s smile made Hugh’s heart skip a beat. “We have the rest of our lives to get to know each other. And we’ll change, and grow, and we’ll keep getting to know each other.”

  Happiness settled in Hugh’s chest. He certainly couldn’t argue with her. In the last few weeks, he had discovered so much about himself that he hadn’t known. There would be more, he was sure. Every passing day was a day of learning with Beth. He could never see himself getting tired of her.

  “Come on, we should turn back,” said Beth, glancing up at the sky. “It looks like rain.”

  Hugh mirrored her. There were definitely darker clouds than when they had left his stables. The two of them settled in a comfortable trot, their horses shaking their manes. They must feel the incoming rain.

  He glanced over at Beth and his love swelled. How could he explain how much he cared for her?

  “How is your brother doing?”

  Beth gave him a wry look. “The man has made himself completely at home with Byron; the poor man doesn’t know what’s hit him. He only agreed to marry Nancy, now he’s got three Mead siblings living with him!”

  Hugh grinned. That sounded about right. “I’ve always heard Sedley was a good man.”

  “Oh, he makes a fine brother-in-law, and I think he and Matthew get on well,” said Beth. “In all honesty, sometimes it feels as though my brother never left. He’s still the same idiot.”

  Hugh stifled a smile. “That’s good to hear.”

  It was, in truth, a relief. He was no expert of course; as he had tried to explain numerous times to Beth, he was no spy. He had never fought for his country, never had to risk his life for everything. The strain those soldiers must go through…

  “I was worried,” he said quietly, as they approached the Hyde Park gate. “That his time in France would have injured him. That settling back into London would be difficult.”

  “I think we were fortunate,” said Beth as the noise of their horse’s hooves clattered about, moving from sand to cobbles. “I was fortunate indeed to have met you. If you had not offered to help me in that inn—”

  “You would have found him,” Hugh said awkwardly. “Eventually.”

  “We’ll never know that. The point is, you found him,” Beth pointed out, the noise of London returning around them as they trotted down the street. “And I will never be able to thank you enough.”

  “As long as you’re not marrying me in gratitude,” he quipped.

  Though he tried to jest, there was a flicker of truth in his words. Hugh knew he could bear many things. He had, in his time. But he was not sure he could suffer through the indignity of discovering that Beth Mead, the woman he adored, had only agreed to be his wife because she felt somehow in his debt.

  Her snort of laughter, however, was enough to put his mind at ease. “Never fear, I’m marrying you for your money.”

  “I’m being serious!”

  “So am I,” said Beth, a twinkle in her eye.

  Hugh rolled his eyes. “I am merely saying, I didn’t do it to—to earn your affections. I did it because it was the right thing to do.”

  “I know,” she said quietly as they turned onto the street of his London residence. “You did it, and that’s what matters.”

  Their eyes met and Hugh was filled with an overwhelming sense of joy. This was what had been missing from his life, though he had not known it. So much of his life had been lacking this contentment. And he hadn’t even known it.

  He’d known there was something missing. As they trotted through the gates that led to the Martock stables, Hugh looked about him. Wealth, prestige, a title, he had all that from birth. And so he had not known what was absent.

  It turned out it wasn’t money, or status. It was love.