He sat there staring at her so earnestly, so sincerely, that Jinx was overcome. She was not a weeper; she never had been. Yet tears welled in her eyes, then one by one spilled over.

He reached out and with his thumb gently smoothed them away. "I love you, Jinx. I love you wet and bedraggled. And angry and obstinate. And even cross-eyed. Your every incarnation managed to trap me more and more securely in your web until now…" He lifted his arms and let them fall in a gesture of helplessness. "I love you. I only hope you can learn to love me, too."

"I do. I do love you," she blurted out. Then not allowing herself time to think, she launched herself into his arms. In a moment they were locked in an embrace, legs, arms, and sheets, all tangled together.

"I love you, Harrison," she murmured between sweet

kisses and hot kisses and seething, writhing kisses. "I love you."

"And you'll marry me?"

She drew her face back from his. She lay on top of him yet she knew she was as trapped by him as if he held her down by force. Love had caught her in its snare. How lovely a thought that was.

"I'll marry you, but on one condition."

He did not look in the least surprised. "And what is the condition?"

"You'll approve of Colin and Alice's marriage."

He laughed. "Oh, that. I conceded that battle to you yesterday."

"You did?"

"When I decided I could not let you go, I knew I would have to accept the rest of your family as well,"

"You decided that yesterday?" When Harrison grinned and nodded, Jinx smiled at him, certain she'd never at any moment of her entire life been happier than she was now. Without planning to do so, she'd somehow fallen in love. And so had her soon-to-be husband.

A love match. Fancy that.

Epilogue

THE SUNDAY TIMES LONDON, MAY 30, 1824

These are shocking times, dear readers. Shocking times, indeed.

On Wednesday past, Hartley Hall, that grand manse on Grosvenor Square, was the scene of unanticipated excitement. The Hartley mansion is renowned for its collection of classical bronzes and early weaponry, and also, in years past, for the exquisite balls and receptions hosted by the late Marquis and Marchioness of Hartley. The ceremony on the evening in question, however, was of another sort entirely: the newest Marchioness of Hartley made her unannounced entrance.

Yes, dear readers, your eyes do not deceive you. Harrison Stirling, Marquis of Hartley, is wed, a fact many will find even harder to credit, once advised of the scandalous circumstances of his marriage. But be in no doubt. It is a fait accompli. The eligible Lord Hartley is eligible no longer.

Your faithful correspondent has learned that the new marchioness is the former Miss Jillian Benchley, eldest daughter of the late Honourable Stanley Benchley and his late wife, the former Violetta Greenleigh. While I will allow that the bride is rather striking, tall with a graceful carriage and a crown of blazing tresses, she also has an odd air, rather exotic and foreign. One would swear bells tinkle in her wake. If nothing else, she will be a most entertaining addition to town society. No doubt invitations to Hartley House will be greatly in demand for the remainder of this season.

One wonders, of course, about such an unseemly haste to wed. Responding to inquiries about why no announcements were made prior to their union, Lord Hartley remarked only that his marriage is his private concern-his and his wife's.

It is speculated that Lord Hartley purchased a special license to wed in Derby, where he has a fine estate. But others whisper that the wedding took place in Gretna Green. Shocking, if such is true.

Compounding the scandal further, Lady Alice, Lord Hartley's only sister, wed the new marchioness's brother, Mister Colin Benchley. Rumors associated with the second couple had abounded in recent weeks, but as in the case of Lord Hartley, no announcement was made prior to the wedding.

This writer went so far in the search for the truth as to question Clarence Benchley, Viscount Geffen, regarding the sudden marriages of both his niece and nephew into the exalted Hartley line. There was no mistaking Lord Geffen's shock to hear of it, nor his extreme pleasure at the advantageous matches the younger Benchleys had made.

Advantageous, indeed! The Benchley siblings come from a long line of eccentrics who seek out mates in unlikely quarters. However, the current generation seems to have come to its senses. (Though whispers of arriviste ate bound to be heard.)

As for the Hartley siblings, one must ponder the reasons that led them to the altar. In Lord Hartley's case, he has exercised the right of any well-fixed young lord to marry beneath him if he so desires, assuming the lady is presentable in society. For that same lord to allow his sister to make such a match, however, is far less comprehensible.

However, your faithful correspondent has discovered the true reason for the hasty weddings. The handsome Benchley siblings have apparently captured the hearts of Lord Hartley and his sister. Lord Hartley did not respond directly to my queries, but as he escorted his bride up the steps of her new home, he paused, and in plain view of neighbors, journalists, and servants alike, kissed her.

A love match? Draw your own conclusions, dear readers. But remember always that you have read it first in the Sunday Times. Harrison Stirling, Marquis of Hartley, former rake and man-about-town, has been landed by an eccentric country miss, with love as her only bait. A curious situation, indeed. A veritable scandal.

It remains now to be seen whether this year's crop of eligible misses will take a page from Lady Hartley's hook. While the mamas angle for titles and the papas root out deep pockets, will the daughters chase after love? This writer certainly hopes so. For the fact remains that this season has, until now, been frightfully dull. Ah, la barbel A trifle more love in the London air might liven matters up considerably.

Rexanne Becnel

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Jill Jones

Emily LaForge is the pen name of romantic suspense author Jill Jones, recipient of the Romantic Times Career Achievement Award and the Georgia Romance Writers prestigious Maggie Award for her novel

Brenda Joyce

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Barbara Dawson Smith