Song of Love

Bedroom Eyes Series

Sometimes heroines are beautiful, smart, and tackle the world. Sometimes, they see the world with a unique pair of eyes. They’re neither bold, clever, nor assertive, but find their own path in life. One that involves piglets.
Augusta Rudhall loves her home, playing the piano, and the yearly litter of piglets. She doesn’t understand people. They never say what they mean, often using sweet words when their intention is to be cruel and are unfaithful friends. She has difficulty figuring out how anyone feels. Yet, she has been told she must marry despite never dreaming of that state.
Nate Fairchild loves bawdy women and bawdy songs. Mostly, he loves the music of ordinary folk and has spent years in London collecting songs from the common people. During a stop at a brothel, he runs into a girl in disguise, discovering ‘Gus’ has inexplicably followed her father there. He hurries her out.
At a ball the next day, he finds Gus weeping in the garden, having been hurt by cruel words. But offering her his handkerchief and a pat on the back ends up compromising her. Both their lives are uprooted, as neither knows anything about the other. Can two more incompatible people find love?

In This Series...

Excerpt

“So, you are the honorable Miss Augusta Rudhall?” He hoped his smile encouraged.

“Yes, how do you do?” She bobbed a curtsy.

“Very well, thank you. I am Nathaniel Fairchild, Lord Fairchild.” With a hand at his waist, he performed his best bow.

“Please, have a seat, my lord.”

Golden words failed him as silence bounced between them, broken by the sounds of their feet shuffling or fingers twiddling. He stared at her, then down at his knees. He coughed out, “it seems we could talk last night.”

“And at Madam Selby’s,” she added.

Nate gawked. Those deep blue eyes peered back. Not a hint of color flushed her cheeks in embarrassment at mentioning where they met. Gus must be molded differently. He had discovered in the carriage she had a unique outlook.

“I suppose I shouldn’t have mentioned that, but if I can’t talk about it with you, there’s no one else I can discuss it with.”

“True.” This damn horsehair chair is stiff. He shifted and stared at his knees again, then drew in a breath. In, out, in, out. You’re here to propose. Get on with it.

“Father sent everyone away until I decide which one of you I should marry.”

His head snapped up. “Pardon? Which of us to marry? I didn’t know I had competition.” His attempt at rhythmic breathing failed, and he choked out a breath. She has another suitor? One who might save him from marrying an unknown. Perhaps luck was on his side. Save me from hurting Maida. His gut twisted. It’s far too late there.

“Yes.” She looked fixedly at him. “Lloyd de Caulmonte has been a suitor, though it took me a while to figure that out. I have trouble ascertaining how people feel. He made me an offer this morning and indicated he’d planned all along to offer for me at the end of the season.”

His heart pounded in his chest and filled his ears. “And what did you tell him?” He couldn’t keep hope out of the question.

“It’s complicated. We are good friends, but we’re not in love.”

He knocked his fists against his legs as a bark of laughter escaped. “You can’t claim that you and I are in love!” This is the damn strangest proposal.

“No. But my father insists I choose one of you or I fear I shall be in a great deal of trouble.”

His chest heaved. It sounds like she’s only been threatened with no supper for a week.

Those blue eyes frowned. “There are reasons it’s unfair of me to marry Lloyd.” Her unchanging tone and emotionless face weren’t helping.

“What are they?”

She broke eye contact to stare at her hands. “It would reveal something personal about him, and I’m not one to disclose secrets.”

She couldn’t possibly know he’s a Molly or what that means.

“But I can say he couldn’t promise to be faithful. Surely, you understand why that would be hurtful.” He recalled the pain from her confession when wandering Madame Selby’s floors. Her horror-struck face as she sputtered, ‘sir! I’m looking for my father.’

He managed a nod.

“I want to know your views on fidelity. I’ve never imagined sexual congress or dreamed of children, but most marriages produce children. When we discussed pleasure-seeking before, you said houses of pleasure exist only for men. I’ve concluded sex is an important activity for men. Yet, I suspect having an unfaithful husband would break something inside me.” She stopped speaking, clasped her hands together, and stared fixedly at him, having said her piece.

This is the oddest marriage proposal any man has faced. “Do you fear sex?” No fellow ever asked a prospective bride that question.