Free How To Bed A Baron by Christy English

is not loaded. Powder alone will not serve, which you would know if you were a man of action. You can make your case to the magistrate. Perhaps he will only send you to the local jail. Or he might well send you to Whitehall as a French spy. I really could not say.”
    The butler burst in then, brandishing a blunderbuss from the previous century. Lady Sara was hot on his heels.
    “My lord,” the butler said. “I heard French being shouted and thought a spy had broken in.”
    “Smith, take this man in hand and see to his wound. We’ll send for the magistrate in the morning.”
    Galliard cursed Serena and her ancestry in colorful French as he was led away. Lady Sara frowned severely at his use of colorful language, raising her voice a bit so that she might be heard above the din. “Put him in the small room off the wine cellar, Smith. I don’t know what Oxfordshire is coming to, with cursing Frenchman gadding about at all hours of the night. And in my very house!”
    “I am sorry, my lady,” Serena said once it had grown quieter. “He broke in looking for me.”
    “No need to fret, my dear. I am simply grateful that you are here, and that Arthur was here at your side to stop him.”
    “Mother,” Arthur said. “I know you are quite ill. Do not distress yourself.”
    Lady Sara laughed loud and long. “Distressed? This is the most fun I’ve had since your father passed on. God rest his soul. And as for being ill, I don’t know where you came up with that cock-eyed notion, but I am as fit as a woman half my age.”
    Her blue eyes pierced her son’s, who stood staring, clearly at a loss for words.
    When she waited a long moment and Arthur still did not speak, Lady Sara amended. “Well, ten years my junior then.”
                  She turned from her son and wrapped her arms around Serena, who took in the scent of lilac on her skin, and felt for a moment as if her own mother held her once more, and blessed her.               “Serena, I am so happy to see that the engagement is a real one, and not some nonsense concocted by Arthur to placate me. At long last, grandchildren!”
    Lady Sara kissed her soundly on the cheek, and “I’ll send to the Bishop of London in the morning for a special license. They are expensive, but worth every penny, wouldn’t you say?”
    Serena stood alone with the man she loved, and for one horrible moment wondered if he still wanted her.
                  “I made a mess of things, Arthur,” she said. And I’m sorry for it.”
                  His smile emerged then to light the room for her. She hoped that his smile would light rooms in her home, and in her heart, for the rest of her life.
                  He stepped toward her, and took her into his arms, almost as if he was afraid that she might get away. “I’ll only be sorry if you refuse me again. Serena Davenport, will you marry me?”
                  “Arthur...”
                  “Before you say no again, know this. If I have to ride over to your father’s house every day from now until we both are eighty to ask you that question again, I will. Answer me now, and make us both happy.”
                  She felt her heart swell with joy and love in a surge that was almost painful. Serena pressed herself against him, and before she kissed the man she would love all her life, she answered him.
                  “Yes.”