“I don’t mind,” she murmured. “So we’ll still manage it together?”
“Of course.” He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her glove. “We’re partners, remember?”
Conyers muttered an oath. “You are determined to do this, then?” he asked.
“I am, Father.”
“I cannot talk you out of it?”
“No.”
The earl turned to her, his eyes raking over her. “And you, young woman, have no intention of making him see sense?”
“No, my lord,” she answered, and felt Denys squeeze her hand tight.
“I give it up,” the earl muttered, lifting his hands in a gesture of exasperated defeat. “Do as you will, both of you, and on your heads be it.”
“Do you accept us, then, Father?” Denys asked, as his father turned away. “Will you give us your blessing?”
“Blessing?” The earl stopped. Squaring his shoulders, he turned and looked at them.
“No,” he said. “I cannot do so, for I see no blessing in this union. But—” he added, and Lola caught her breath. “I know when I’ve lost. And if I don’t accept this woman, society never will, and if that happens, heaven only knows what the fate of your children will be. Your sons might not be admitted to Oxford.” He shuddered as if that was a fate worse than death. “Your daughters might have to marry commoners.”
The earl looked at Lola, and though his gaze was still filled with resentment, it did not seem to hold quite the same degree of contempt that it had in her dressing room last night. “God knows you’re not the woman I would have chosen for my son, and despite what’s happened here tonight, the rest of society will not be welcoming you with open arms.”
“Quite right, Conyers,” Lady Trubridge said, walking around her husband to take the earl’s arm. “But I assure you, I shall be giving the girl a proper and gradual introduction to society once she and Somerton are married, and though it won’t be easy, we shall all do what we can. Now,” she added, delicately pulling the earl away, “I believe they will begin serving dinner in a moment, so perhaps we should adjourn to the other room?”
She began leading the earl toward the door, beckoning others to follow, but the earl didn’t seem quite ready to depart. He paused, giving Lola one last belligerent glare over his shoulder. “You’ll give up the acting, miss,” he told her. “And do try and produce at least one son so that my imbecile of a nephew doesn’t end up with my title.”
With that, he walked into the dining room, Lady Trubridge on his arm. The others followed in their wake—Denys’s mother with Nick, dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief, Denys’s friends and their wives, and ten or twelve other people Lola didn’t know at all. But as they went, each person gave her a nod of acknowledgment, telling her that among those in this room at least, she and Denys had support.
Denys’s sister came last. “Welcome to the family,” she said, giving Lola a smacking kiss on the cheek. “You’ve no idea what you’ve let yourself in for.”
Lola smiled, liking the girl’s sass. “Oh, but I think I do. I’ve already gone three rounds with your father.”
“Papa?” She made a sound of derision. “He’s nothing. Wait until you meet Grandmamma.”
“Susan,” Denys said warningly.
The girl laughed, stood up on her toes, and kissed her brother’s cheek. “Taking on the whole ton, Denys? My God, you’re brave. Do you have any single friends like you?”
“I’m still single,” James pointed out.
“Dearest Pongo,” the girl said with obvious affection as she put her arm through his. “You know I adore you,” she added as they turned away and started toward the dining room, “but I could never marry you. You’re like a brother to me.”
“Right,” he answered hastily. “Of course.”
Denys and Lola both laughed, watching them go.
“Poor James,” she murmured. “Will he ever find love?”
“Don’t worry about Pongo,” Denys told her. “He’s in love every week.”
“Your sister is right about you, you know,” Lola murmured as she turned toward him, still feeling rather stunned by all that had just occurred. “You are the bravest man I have ever known.”
“My darling,” he said, and pulled her into his arms. “I told you before, you’re the brave one. And you proved me right, by God. Coming down to face them the way you did.”
“I had to do it. You see . . .” She paused to take a deep breath. “When you left this morning, I took a long, hard look at my life, and I knew leaving wasn’t the answer. Because I love you.”
“And I love you. And love,” he told her, bending his head, “is always enough.”
He started to kiss her, but then he stopped, his lips an inch from hers. “By the way, I now expect you to fully admit that I was right and you were wrong.”
“About what?”
His arms tightened around her. “Happy endings do sometimes happen.”
“I can’t deny it.” She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “After all, you are definitely my knight in shining armor.”
“Damned straight,” he murmured, and bent his head toward hers. “And you shall be my viscountess, my wife, the mother of my children, and the love of my life until the end of my days.”
“And society?”
“If society doesn’t like it, society can lump it.”
“Now that,” she said, and kissed him, “is the best happy ending I’ve ever heard.”
Acknowledgments
Some books need lots of research. Fortunately, an author can always find generous, enthusiastic people willing to help. For this book, I had two experienced actresses to help me with all things theater.
First, my thanks to professional actress Traci Lyn Thomas, who answered all my pesky little questions about auditions, rehearsals, and performance, and who explained to me in depth just what the differences are between producers, backers, and directors.
My thanks also to local artist and actress Bonnie Peacher for reading the final manuscript and verifying that I got the acting vibe right.
My heartfelt gratitude to both of you.
About the Author
LAURA LEE GUHRKE spent seven years in advertising, had a successful catering business, and managed a construction company before she decided writing novels was more fun. A New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Laura has penned more than twenty historical romances. Her books have received many award nominations, and she is the recipient of romance fiction’s highest honor: the Romance Writers of America RITA® Award. She lives in the Northwest with her husband (or, as she calls him, her very own romance hero), along with two diva cats and a Golden Retriever happy to be their slave. Laura loves hearing from readers, and you can contact her via her website: www.lauraleeguhrke.com.
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By Laura Lee Guhrke