Page 66 of Indecently Daring

“What changed?” Mr Cadogan demanded. “Why should that not still be true?”

“I changed, for one. I know now that I can trust myself, and a very wise man suggested that, if I were happy, if I loved and was loved in return, the chances of ever failing would be greatly diminished. I know now that he’s right. For I could not endure to let Alana down. If she will take this chance on me, I’ll never give her, or you, cause to regret it.”

Silence.

“I can tell you, Jerry, Harriet adores the fellow, and I think we can agree she’s no fool. He’s served the community with great dedication and kindness in the years he’s been here, and he’s very well-liked and respected,” Lord St Clair told his brother, and with such obvious sincerity Harry was speechless and exceedingly touched. “I’ll vouch for him. You know I’d not let Lana marry just anyone, but he’s not a fortune hunter. Honestly, you should have seen his face when she told him she was an heiress. It was an absolute picture.”

“Hmm.” Mr Cadogan frowned, steepling his fingers.

“Oh, Jerry!” Mrs Cadogan said crossly. “Do stop tormenting the boy. You said yourself there’s hardly a choice. Alana was bound to do something dreadful eventually, and you know very well you’d decided to let them marry before you even left the house.”

“Papa!” Alana said, glaring at her father with reproach.

Her father shrugged, apparently unrepentant. “He’s marrying my daughter. My last daughter…. The least he can expect is to be made to sweat a bit. If a fellow isn’t sweating cobs when he meets his father-in-law for the first time, he’s clearly not as invested in the situation as he ought to be.”

Harry let out a breath. “Sir, I promise you. I’m a nervous wreck.”

“Excellent,” Jerry said, grinning and holding out his hand to Harry. “Welcome to the family.”

Harry took it, only to have his soon-to-be father-in-law’s punishing grip tighten upon him once more.

“And if you get the notion into your head to take to the bottle ever again, I’ll cut off your balls,” he whispered, still smiling.

There was a muffled laugh from the earl, and Harry forced a smile too, nodding his agreement.

“I’ll hand you the knife,” he promised, and Mr Cadogan chuckled.

“Good lad. You’ll do.”

Chapter 19

Dearest Lana

And yes, I know I ought to put Miss Cadogan, but it seems so strange and wrong to be formal with you, even in a letter. You’ll always be Lana to me, my dear friend.

I hope and trust that this letter finds you well and happy. I really do mean that too, because I have news. I know that when you first spoke of breaking our engagement, I did not take to the idea as well as I might have. Firstly, I want to apologise for that, Lana, because you were right. I knew you were, in my heart, the moment you said it, but I was afraid. I was afraid of a world where I did not have the security of all the plans we’d made laid out before us. We had been so certain, and I felt like a fool to discover everything we had spoken about would come to naught.

Not so now. Lana. I must tell you. I have met someone. Her name is Miss Tyler, and she’s quite simply the most wonderful girl I’ve ever known – except for you, my dear friend. I hope I may still call you that, Lana? For you will always be my friend, but now, at last, I know what you were trying to tell me. We were only ever friends, weren’t we? More like siblings than lovers, but with Miss Tyler, it’s so different. I have a future, a happy one, and I cannot wait for it to begin. So, thank you, dear Lana, for being as brave as you always are and speaking the truth. You set us both free, and I will never stop being grateful for that, and for knowing you.

―Excerpt of a letter from The Hon’ble Oliver Cootes to Miss Alana Cadogan (daughter of Mr and Mrs Jerome and Bonnie Cadogan).

13th February 1845, Holbrook House, Sussex.

For the next two weeks, Alana was allowed many public outings with Harry, including attending Cat’s lavish eighteenth birthday party at Dern, but they hardly got a moment alone. It was probably for the best, she supposed, as it seemed they could not be trusted to keep their hands off each other if they were. Or at least… she couldn’t be trusted, she amended ruefully. Though how anyone could blame her when faced with Harry Martin all in black with that pristine white dog collar? There was something about his clerical robes that stirred her up, she realised, feeling dreadfully wicked. It was just whenever she saw him looking so very… vicarish, she had the irresistible urge to do something sinful and make him lose his mind. She really was a dreadful girl, she thought with a smirk.

Their engagement had been announced on the first of the month and Harry had acquired a common licence, so they need not wait the requisite three months before marrying. There was still a deal of speculation about the night in question. The presence of the wicked Marquess of Kilbane at the Lamb, and that he’d been seen talking to the beautiful daughter of the Marquess of Montagu on the same night, had not gone unnoticed. News of Kilbane having paid for the carriage in which Cat and Alana had then jaunted off had not helped matters. Alana did not want her friend to suffer any undue gossip for her part in their adventure, not when Cat had been trying to help her. Besides, the sooner she married Harry, the happier she would be.

Seeing him every day, talking to him and spending time with him had only confirmed her feelings that this felt entirely different from her relationship with Oliver. It had happened so fast, too fast perhaps, but she had been with Oliver for years only to discover it wasn’t right. This was. She knew it in her heart.

Harry was the first thing she thought of in the morning and the last thing at night. She was restless with impatience whenever they were apart, and when they were together, she was desperate to touch him, to be alone with him. It wasn’t just her, either. She saw it in his eyes—the desire, the need—and it made her ache even more knowing they both suffered the same torment. But it was soon to be over.

Aunt Harriet had kindly suggested the Valentine’s night ball become a wedding celebration. In that way, they could spread the news of their marriage far and wide, and hopefully overpower any other stories people might have on their minds. So they would be married tomorrow, followed by a lavish wedding breakfast, and then culminating in the grand ball.

Today, however, Alana was enjoying her last day as an unmarried lady. Sitting beside her on her bed, with their skirts billowing around them, were Cat, Emmeline, and Aggie. In the centre, looking rather worn and battered, was the old top hat.

“Well, it seems rather moot now,” Alana said with a sigh. “I mean, I’m getting married tomorrow.”

“All the more reason to take one now,” Cat said firmly. “I can’t believe I actually waited until I was eighteen. I have such magnificent self-control now I’m a mature woman,” she said airily, putting her nose in the air with a refined little sniff.