on April 10th 2018
The first rule of the Spinsters Club is: You do not talk about the Spinsters Club.
The second rule of the Spinsters Club is: You do not talk about the Spinsters Club.
The third rule…
Well, Merry understands the rules of the Spinsters Club fully, considering it was her idea in the first place. When one of her good friends loses her heart to an utter rogue and is ruined forever, she’s determined that the life of a spinster is for her. Thankfully, she’s not alone. Her three dearest friends have had their share of heartbreak and resolve to join her. No matter what the demanding mamas and papas of the world say, they will not give up their spinsterhood.
Particularly not to the handsome Lord Harcourt Easton, the Earl of Langley. Merry has always liked Harcourt—after all he is her brother’s best friend—but she cannot fathom his sudden interest in her. After all, he was well known to be quite the rogue at times and she’s hardly the sort to attract the attention of a rake.
But Harcourt has loved Merry for some time now. And he’s determined to make her see that. If only he could get past this stubborn determination that she should never marry and convince her he’s the man for her.
The death of her father and some strange incidents that put Merry in danger might not be ideal circumstances to woo a woman, but Harcourt is willing to make the best of a dire situation—especially while Merry needs a shoulder to cry on.
Harcourt could well be the most amazing man she knows, and Merry cannot help but be grateful for his support, but she cannot very well turn her back on the Spinsters Club so soon…can she?
“Will you deny that you liked kissing me?”
That kiss. She almost hoped he’d forgotten it. She had certainly tried. But now he’d said the words, she was flooded with memories of heat and touch. Of being so wrapped up and lost in him that she never wanted him to release her.
“Merry, you must realize I want to repeat that kiss.” He glanced down and took her hand in his, lifting her hand to his lips and brushing his mouth over her knuckles.
That gentle brush made her boneless, and entirely unable to tug away from him. She searched his gaze and peered at his lips. She looked for every inflection in his expression, for some sign that he was teasing her but, for once, his expression was entirely sincere.
“Do you deny that you wish to repeat it too?”
“It-it was just a kiss. A very pleasant one, yes, but…”
“No. No but. Kisses like that do not come around often, believe me.”
The reminder that Harry had probably kissed hundreds of women and she was merely another in a lengthy line of them had her tugging her hand away. “I do not know what you want from me, Harry, but—”
“I want you.”
“Well, you cannot have me,” she blurted out, a slightly hysterical laugh threatening to burst through the words.
His lips curved. “You forget just how determined I am.”
“Harry, I am not a conquest! In fact, I thought we were friends.”
His smile widened. “Yes, that is true. You are not a conquest. And you are probably one of my very few female friends. Which is one of the many reasons we should be together.”
“Damn it, Merry, I am not trying to proposition you into some sordid affair. I want to be with you.”
“But-but you’re a rake. Why would you want me?”
“Because I love you.”