Tessa Dare

For Bren
Because one does not simply write a novel.
Your friendship is precious to me.

“It’s been an honor to know you, Logan. I do hope you’ll understand if I don’t write.”

“Madeline Eloise Gracechurch . . . I’ve come here to marry you.”

It made perfect sense, too. After all, who else would read and reread the rambling, silly letters of a sixteen-­year-­old ninny?

A devoted reader, that’s who. One stuck with nothing else for reading material.

“You may say you dinna want to attract notice. Well, I notice all of you.” He tipped his head, letting his gaze saunter down her body. “In fact, I’m starting to fancy myself a sort of naturalist. One with verra particular interests. I’m becoming quite the expert in Madeline Eloise Gracechurch.”

“Logan . . .”

“And lass, you canna stop me.”

And once he held her in his arms, he was never going to let her go.

“I am wearing a cravat and cuff links at the godforsaken Beetle Ball. Does this not count as going to trouble for you?”

“But . . . that’s not for me. Not really.”

“Maddie, mo chridhe.” His grip on her arms softened to a caress, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. “Like hell it isn’t.”

“This lobster is of great importance to Madeline. Which means it’s of great importance to me.”

“I need you to move swiftly and surely, lads. In all our years together on campaign, we never once left a soldier behind to die. We’re not leaving this lobster, either.”

“It’s over, Logan. It’s over. You saw the way Lord Varleigh treated me tonight. Even if he had introduced me to Mr. Dorning, it would have been for nothing. I’m a woman. That’s already a strike against me in most ­people’s eyes. And if I’m newly married? They’d never hire me for a long project. They’d assume I’ll get pregnant at any moment and abandon the work.”