His mother was in tears-positive floods of happiness.
Halting before him, she stretched up to place a motherly kiss on his cheek, then she sniffed, and quavered, "I'm so glad I made you promise not to marry in any hole-and-corner fashion." She dabbed at her overflowing eyes. "You've made me so happy," she sobbed.
Helplessly, he looked at her, then looked at his father.
Who grinned and clapped him on the back. "Play your cards right, and you'll be able to live on this for years."
Demon grinned back, shook his hand, then glanced again at Horatia. Today had been the happiest, proudest day of his life-one he wouldn't have missed for the world. Despite his earlier view of marriage, he was now much wiser. But he wasn't fool enough to tell his mother that-instead, he leaned down and kissed her cheek.
Instantly suspicious, she stopped crying and stared at him; his father chuckled and drew her away.
Grinning, Demon turned to have a word with the General and Dillon, standing beside Flick on his other side. Dillon was a far cry from the petulant youth of only a few months ago; now he stood straight and tall, unafraid to meet any man's eye. The Committee had agreed that in reparation for his crime-one against the industry-he would act as a clerk to the Jockey Club, and assist in keeping the breeding register up to date. In his spare time, of his own accord, he'd taken up the task of managing the General's investments, giving his father more time for his research. Seeing them together now, father and son side by side as they chatted with Flick, Demon sensed a closeness, a bond that hadn't been there-or not openly so-before.
Sliding his arm around Flick, he smiled and held out his hand to Dillon.
Above the bustle, lounging against one of the pillars of the church porch, Lucifer looked down on the gathering. In particular, on the twins. "They're going to be much worse after this, you realize. "
"Hmm." Beside him, Gabriel resignedly raised his brows. "I've never understood what it is about weddings that so excites the mating instinct of females."
"Whatever it is, you only need to look at them to see its effect. They look ready to grab anything in breeches."
"Luckily, most of us here are related."
"Or, in their view, too old to count."
They continued watching the twins, perfect pictures of delight in cornflower blue gowns the same color as their eyes, their pale ringlets dancing in the breeze. They'd been hovering not far from Flick. Now they pushed forward to hug her frantically as she and Demon prepared to enter the waiting carriage. Flick returned their hugs affectionately-even from the porch, it was easy to discern her reasssuring words: "Your time will come-never doubt it."
To Gabriel and Lucifer, those words held a different ring.
Gabriel quelled an odd shiver. "It's not going to be easy, now it's just you and me."
"Devil and Vane will help out."
"When they're allowed to."
Lucifer's dark blue gaze shifted to Honoria and Patience, standing chatting to one side. "There is that. Still, we should be able to manage it-don't you think?"
Gabriel didn't answer, well aware they hadn't been talking solely about the twins.
At that moment, Demon handed Flick into the carriage. A cheer went up from all the onlookers. Demon turned to acknowledge it-to exchange a round of last comments with Devil and Vane. They laughed, and fell back; Demon reached for the carriage door.
Then he looked up, directly at them-the last unmarried members of the Bar Cynster. A slow, rakish, too-knowing smile lit his face; holding their gazes, he raised a hand and saluted them, paused for one last instant, then turned, ducked and entered the carriage.
Barely hearing the cheers and huzzahs as the carriage rumbled off, Gabriel stood in the porch as if turned to stone. In his mind rang the words Your time will come-never doubt it. Not, this time, in Flick's soft voice, but in Demon's much more forceful tones.
He blinked and shook aside the horrendous thought, then shivered in earnest as a chill touched his spine.
Exactly as if someone had walked on his grave.
Disguising his shiver as a wriggle of his shoulders, he resettled his cuffs, then glanced at his brother. "Come on-we'd better do the honors vis-a-vis the twins, before they find some bounder to accompany them instead."
With a nod, Lucifer followed him down the church steps.
In the carriage rocking over the cobbles toward Berkeley Square, Flick was in her husband's arms. "Demon! Be careful!" She tried vainly to right her headdress. "We'll be greeting our guests soon."
"We're ahead of them," Demon pointed out, and kissed her again.
Flick inwardly sighed and forgot about her headdress, forgot about everything as she sank into his embrace. Possessive, protective, passionately loving-he was all she'd ever wanted. She loved him with all her soul. As she kissed him back, she felt the glow her parents had always had infuse her and Demon, enfolding them in its warmth. With this marriage, this man, this husband and lover, she'd seized her parents' legacy-now, they'd make it their own.
Author's Note
Dear Reader,
The Bar Cynster-a group of arrogant Regency rogues-domineering, autocratic, rakish-what more need one say? Writing about them-their lives, their loves and about the wider Cynster family with its strong, willful women-has been a delight. What especially attracted me to write about the Bar Cynsters was what I see as the ultimate strength in strong, arrogant, warrior males-the fact that their very nature compels them to seek their own family to protect and defend. And in order to establish that family, ah well-they need a wife. But Fate, a willful woman herself, has reserved a special destiny for every Cynster: to love and be loved by said wife. To surrender to love-to willingly do so-takes courage, determination, and commitment. As Demon recognizes at the beginning of this book, marrying the lady one loves-being forever at the mercy of a woman who holds one's heart, soul, and future in her small, delicate hands-is a fate baneful enough to make the strongest warrior blanch. Although each of them blanches, and clearly recognizes the danger, every member of the Bar Cynster ultimately makes his fateful choice. First Devil, in Devil's Bride, then Vane in A Rake's Vow, followed by Richard in Scandal's Bride, and now Demon in A Rogue's Proposal. Each choose love, family, and a lifetime of commitment over all else their wealthy world has to offer.
To me, that willing choice is the very essence of romance in the Regency.
Recording how each Cynster falls has been my privilege, watching as Fate lays her snare for each one. The next in line is Gabriel. He receives a summons from a mysterious countess and meets her in the mists at St. Georges, Hanover Square. Even cloaked and veiled, the lady raises much more than his interest. She wishes to recruit his talents to expose a financial scam. Gabriel agrees, intent on exposing much more than that. But the countess proves a creature of night and shadow. What Gabriel finally reveals when he rips aside her last veil rocks him to his very foundation. That, however, is just the start of his problems. Read how he and Fate triumph in the next installment in the Bar Cynster series from Avon Books in July 2000.
I hope reading my work brings you as much joy as creating it gives me. A big thank-you to all my readers-your letters, cards and email provide a constant stream of support. I write to entertain you, and hope to do so for many years yet!