Suddenly Read online

  Praise for the novels of New York Times

  and USA TODAY bestselling author

  CANDACE CAMP

  “Camp’s newest Matchmaker novel features her usual vivid characterization, touches of subtle humor and plenty of misunderstandings, guilt and passion. You won’t want to miss this poignant and charming tale.”

  —RT Book Reviews on The Courtship Dance

  “Delightful…Camp is firmly at home here, enlivening the romantic quest between her engaging lovers with a set of believable and colorful secondaries.”

  —Publishers Weekly on The Wedding Challenge

  “A beautifully crafted, poignant love story.”

  —RT Book Reviews on The Wedding Challenge

  “Lively and energetic secondaries round out the formidable leads…assuring readers a surprise ending well worth waiting for.”

  —Publishers Weekly on The Bridal Quest

  “A clever mystery adds intrigue to this lively and gently humorous tale, which simmers with well-handled sexual tension.”

  —Library Journal on A Dangerous Man

  “The talented Camp has deftly mixed romance and intrigue to create another highly enjoyable Regency romance.”

  —Booklist on An Independent Woman

  “A smart, fun-filled romp.”

  —Publishers Weekly on Impetuous

  CANDACE CAMP

  Suddenly

  Also available from

  CANDACE CAMP

  The Courtship Dance

  The Wedding Challenge

  The Bridal Quest

  The Marriage Wager

  Promise Me Tomorrow

  No Other Love

  A Stolen Heart

  A Dangerous Man

  An Independent Woman

  An Unexpected Pleasure

  Secrets of the Heart

  So Wild a Heart

  The Hidden Heart

  Swept Away

  Winterset

  Beyond Compare

  Mesmerized

  Impetuous

  Indiscreet

  Impulse

  Scandalous

  Suddenly

  Suddenly

  CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  EPILOGUE

  PROLOGUE

  London

  1871

  CHARITY HAD HER escape all planned.

  The important thing was that no one should know that she had left the house, not even the servants or her sister Serena, for any of them might tell her parents. They would think it was for her own good, of course; a well-bred young lady could not be seen walking through the streets of London unaccompanied without severe damage being done to her reputation. No one, not even her affable, loving father, would excuse such behavior. They would not accept her reasoning that, since she would make sure no one in society saw her, it could hardly damage her reputation. Worse, they would try to worm out of her why she had left Aunt Ermintrude’s house this morning without even a maid to accompany her.

  And that she simply could not reveal, for, if being alone walking down the quiet, elegant streets of Mayfair was reprehensible, it was nothing compared to the social horror of what she proposed to do.

  After a great deal of thinking, Charity had decided that the best time to leave would be immediately after she ate breakfast. Her mother and sisters would still be asleep, for with the constant round of parties they had attended since they’d come to London for Serena’s and Elspeth’s debuts, they had adopted town hours, staying up until the wee hours of the morning and often sleeping until noon. So they would not know she was gone—she hoped not until after she came back. And her father, an early riser like herself, would leave for his daily walk as soon as he ate breakfast. The servants, busy with their tasks, would not wonder where she was as long as they did not see her slip out the door alone.

  So, as soon as she had eaten and her father had left, she crept cautiously downstairs, bonnet in hand, and with a final glance around to make sure there were no servants about, she slid out the front door. Thrusting her bonnet on her head, she ran lightly down the steps and along the street, glancing back once to make sure there was no one pursuing her. She hailed a hansom cab, and within minutes she was pulling up in front of Dure House, a tall, imposing white Georgian-style edifice.

  Charity paid the cabdriver and marched up the steps of Dure House as if it were something she did every day, knowing that the best thing when one was uncertain was to act as if one knew precisely what one was doing. She raised the bright brass ring in the mouth of the lion’s-head door knocker and brought it down with a sharp crack.

  A tall, cadaverously thin manservant opened the door. His expression was so haughty that Charity was sure he must be the butler of the house. His supercilious look deepened when he took in Charity, standing alone on the doorstep in her country-sewn dress.

  “Yes?” he inquired, his eyebrows rising in a way that spoke volumes about his opinion of her breeding and her purpose on the earl of Dure’s doorstep.

  Charity’s chin came up, and she returned an equally cool gaze. Not for nothing were there centuries of dukes and earls in her family’s background; she was not about to let a butler stare her down.

  “I am the Honorable Miss Charity Emerson,” she said in her best imitation of her mother’s aristocratic tone. “I am here to see Lord Dure, if you will be so good as to inform him.”

  She saw the man hesitate, and she knew he was struggling with an urge to toss her out forthwith. But Charity was certain that he recognized the name Emerson, and he wasn’t likely to take it upon himself to turn her away.

  Finally he stepped back grudgingly, allowing her to enter, and said, “If you will kindly remain here, I will see if His Lordship is at home.”

  This, Charity knew, was a euphemism for asking Lord Dure if he was willing to see this insolent chit who had arrived unheralded and unaccompanied on his doorstep. Charity occupied herself with looking around at the wide, formal entry, tiled in white marble. A wide staircase swept upward elegantly, parting halfway to curve in two matching wings the rest of the way to the next floor.

  It was up these stairs that the butler went and down them that, after a few minutes, he returned in the same measured tread. He gave a slight bow in Charity’s direction and said, “If you will follow me, miss…”

  Charity’s knees went weak. She had not realized until this moment how tensely she had been waiting, afraid that the earl would turn her down and her whole adventure would have been in vain. She drew a breath and followed him up the stairs and into a comfortable study.

  “The Honorable Miss Charity Emerson,” the butler intoned, then withdrew, leaving Charity alone facing Simon Westport, the Earl of Dure.

  He had been seated behind his desk, and he rose at her entrance. This, she thought, was a dangerous man.

  Everyone had said he was; they called him Devil Dure. Now, seeing him, she could understand the rumors. He was big and cold and hard, an imposing and intimidating figure from the top of his leonine black mane of hair down through the sw
elling muscles of his arms and chest and thighs, which not even the excellent cut of his clothes could conceal. His clean-shaven face gave nothing away; his features were as regular and hard as if they had been carved from granite. His eyes were an odd, dark color somewhere between the green of a deep, mossy pool and the gray of slate. They pierced her now, icy and sharp, like a pin through a butterfly, leaving her wriggling helplessly.

  Charity’s mouth went dry. Perhaps she had been foolhardy to come here.

  “Yes, Miss Emerson?” the Earl asked, his eyes surveying her coolly. “How can I be of service to you?”

  Charity squared her shoulders. She had never run from anything in her life, and she was not about to start now. Besides, her sister’s entire future was at stake.

  “I came,” she told him clearly, “to ask you to marry me.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  THERE WAS A MOMENT of stunned silence. The Earl of Dure stared at Charity, baffled.

  He had been amazed when his butler, Chaney, announced that Charity Emerson was at the door. He knew that Charity was Serena’s sister, though he had never met the girl. He had been intrigued, as well, for he could not imagine what bizarre circumstance could have brought her to his doorstep. Even though rumors had been flying for the past two or three weeks that he was on the verge of offering for Serena, he was not yet in any way related to the Emersons, and it was social disaster for a young woman to visit the house of a man who was not kin to her.

  When Charity stepped into his study, he had been surprised again, for he had expected Serena’s younger sister to be a schoolroom miss, not the obviously grown, youthfully blooming young woman who stood before him. It was, however, quite easy to see why Charity had been left with the younger daughters in the schoolroom, instead of being brought out with her sisters, Serena and Elspeth. Her excellent figure and glowing blond beauty would have cast both of the others into the shade. He had felt an immediate and definite tightening of his loins as he looked at her.

  Her question left him speechless. Finally he cleared his throat and said, “I beg your pardon?”

  Charity blushed, realizing how baldly her words had come out. “That is, I mean, well, you are in the market for a wife, are you not?”

  The Earl’s eyebrows rose lazily. Whatever surprise he felt did not show on his cool, composed face. “I doubt that the matter is any of your concern, Miss Emerson, but, yes, I do intend to marry soon. Since my grandfather died, I have a duty to the estate to produce an heir.”

  “Well, that is why I am here.”

  “You are saying you intend to, ah, put yourself upon the market?”

  Charity’s flush deepened to a bright red. She had not said at all what she intended to. Her plan had been to state her case coolly and logically, but somehow, as so often happened to her, the words had just seemed to come tumbling out of her mouth.

  “I am not—” She had started to retort hotly, then stopped. “Well, yes in a way—but not as you’re implying.”

  “Indeed.” His dark eyes were tinged with amusement. “Pray, may I ask, in what way are you offering yourself?”

  There was a dark, subtle undertone in his voice that sent a shiver up Charity’s spine. She knew that she should be insulted at his words, that he was implying that she was not a lady, but the timbre of his voice made her feel more weak in the knees than indignant.

  She stiffened her spine, reminding herself of what was at stake here, and said, “Everyone says that you are planning to ask my sister to marry you. Even Papa told Mama last night that he thought you would come up to scratch soon.”

  “Indeed?” The Earl’s mouth twitched.

  “Yes. When I heard that, I knew I had to do something desperate.”

  “Did you, now? And what might that be?”

  “To ask you to marry me, instead of Serena.”

  “You’re trying to steal a march on your sister?”

  Charity looked horrified. “No! It’s not like that, my lord. You mustn’t think that I would ever do anything to hurt Serena. It’s just the opposite. I am rescuing her.”

  “Rescuing her? From marriage to me?” His brows vaulted upward. “I had not realized that it was so horrible a fate. Indeed, I thought Miss Serena seemed perfectly, ah…resigned to it.”

  “Oh, she is,” Charity assured him gravely. “She knows that it is her duty to marry you, and, you see, Serena is the kind of woman who always does her duty to her family. She will most certainly marry you if someone doesn’t do anything to stop it, and then she will be thoroughly miserable the rest of her life!”

  There was a moment of silence, then Dure mused, “I was unaware what a poor husband I would be.”

  Charity blushed, realizing how tactless her statement had been. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that marriage to you would make a person miserable, ordinarily—for if that were so, I don’t think I would have offered to marry you in her place. Truly, I’m afraid I’m not that unselfish a person.” Her brows knit a little as she regarded this failing in herself. “No doubt Serena would have done so for me, but she is a vastly superior person.”

  “I find her quite above the ordinary,” Simon admitted, and his dark eyes danced with amusement, changing his hard face in a startling way. “That is why I was intending to offer for her.”

  “But you are not in love with her, are you?” Charity asked anxiously. “Serena did not think you were. She and Papa both said that you were not interested in love with a wife. That is true, isn’t it?”

  “It is true that I am looking for a more reasonable arrangement,” he admitted. “I tried love once, and I have little intention of falling into that pit again. But I am afraid I still don’t understand why—”

  “Well, it isn’t that Serena’s afraid of you. She isn’t—or, at least, only a little bit.”

  “I am vastly relieved.”

  Charity glanced at him, and, catching the glimmer in his eyes, she relaxed and grinned. “I’m sorry. I’m making a proper mess of it, aren’t I? The problem is this—Serena is in love with another man. You can understand, can’t you, how she would not want to marry you, when her heart has been given to another?”

  Dure frowned thoughtfully. “Your sister never mentioned this to me. She seemed quite agreeable to my advances. If she did not wish to marry me, why didn’t she say so?”

  “That is not her way. She is a dutiful daughter, and Papa and Mama very much want her to make this marriage. You see, with five daughters, it is very difficult. For even one of them to make a splendid marriage would be so advantageous. Once Serena is married to you, then she can bring out all her younger sisters.”

  Simon let out a faint groan at the thought of bringing out a succession of girls in his house, and Charity nodded commiseratingly. “You’re right. You would not enjoy it at all. Especially Belinda, for she is a spoiled brat. But Serena feels that she has to marry you for the sake of our family, even though it breaks her heart. You see, she is in love with the parson back home, at Siddley-on-the-Marsh. Reverend Anthony Woodson. He’s a very good man, but, of course, he has no fortune. Serena doesn’t mind. She just wants to marry him and be happy and do good works. She would be a wonderful parson’s wife, for she’s very good and kind, you know, and she wants to help people. She truly doesn’t mind wearing old clothes and not going to balls and such.”

  Charity’s nose wrinkled as she considered this oddity in her sister.

  “I had no idea,” Dure said gravely. “I assure you, I do not wish to marry your sister if she is in love with another man. It was never my intention to force her into marriage.”

  “Of course not. I was sure it was that you did not know—After all, how could you? Serena would never tell you herself, and Papa and Mama don’t even know that she is in love with Reverend Woodson. They would not approve, you see, since he has no money.”

  “I give you my word that I will relieve your sister’s mind on that score.” He hesitated, curiously reluctant to send his visitor away. “Now, M
iss Emerson, having accomplished your mission, you must return home. I am afraid it would do considerable damage to your reputation if it ever got out that you were in a gentleman’s quarters. Especially mine,” he added truthfully.

  “I know. Aunt Ermintrude would say I was brassy. She often says so, anyway. And Mama did say that you had something of a reputation. At first she was somewhat concerned, you see, about whether your intentions toward Serena were honorable, but Papa assured her that you never took up with young females of virtue.”

  Simon let out a bark of laughter. Charity looked somewhat abashed. “I’m sorry. I’ve done it again, haven’t I? Even Serena says that I let my tongue run away with me. I hope I haven’t offended you.”

  “Not at all. In fact, you’ve added a considerable amount of amusement—not to mention enlightenment—to my morning. But you must go now. I will have Chaney get you a hack. I am afraid my own carriage would arouse too much notice.”

  “Wait!” Charity jumped to her feet. “You haven’t said—I mean, you can’t just not marry Serena! Mama will murder me if she finds out I talked you out of offering for Serena and then someone else, like that odious Lady Amanda, gets you instead.”

  “I can assure you that I have no plans to offer for Lady Amanda Tilford’s hand,” Simon retorted flatly.

  “Of course not. You would not be so foolish, I am sure. But, don’t you see, it must be one of us— Oh, I wouldn’t have come here if I hadn’t thought you would be willing to take me instead! Papa says it’s absolutely vital that Serena marry you, so we won’t wind up in the poorhouse.” She paused, then added judiciously, “I don’t believe he meant that quite literally, but it’s true that we are in a real case. I’ve had to turn these gloves, and this bonnet is Serena’s old one that I retrimmed. And Papa told us that no one else could have new dresses this year so that he could pay for Serena’s and Elspeth’s coming out. Mama and Papa married for love, you see, and neither of them had a feather to fly with. Fortunately Aunt Grimmedge left Mama a competence, or I don’t know what we would have done these past years. But Mama would never consider any of us marrying someone in trade, even if we were starving. She’s proud, you see, what with her cousin being a duke and all. But your family is impeccable enough even for her—except for that scandal back in the time of King Charles II, but Mama excuses that because, after all, she says, everyone was quite scandalous then.”