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Автор Джудит Макнот
Judith McNaught
Until You
(Westmoreland Dynasty Saga – 3)
I write novels about very special, fictional people-men and women of courage and loyalty, of humor and integrity, people who care very much about other people.
I am honored to dedicate this novel to two real-life people who are the equal to any of those fictional characters, two people who I am privileged to call my friends…
To Pauli Marr, with equal parts of gratitude and admiration for all the things you are, and for all the things you've shared with me-including some of the most hilarious, and difficult, moments of my life. Occasionally, at one and the same time…
and
To Keith Spalding. I always imagined a knight-in-shining-armor would ride to the rescue on a destrier and carry a lance. Who would have guessed he'd ride in a BMW and carry a briefcase! But regardless of the mode of transportation or the method of defense, no knight of old could surpass you for integrity, loyalty, kindness, and humor. My life is so much the better for having known you.
I couldn't end this dedication without mentioning four other wonderful people for reasons they will know and understand:
To Brooke Barhorst, Christopher Fehlig and Tracy Barhorst-with all my love…
and
To Megan Ferguson, who is one very special young lady-with all my gratitude.
1
Propped upon a mountain of satin pillows amid rumpled bed linens, Helene Devernay surveyed his bronzed, muscular torso with an appreciative smile as Stephen David Elliott Westmoreland, Earl of Langford, Baron of Ellingwood, Fifth Viscount Hargrove, Viscount Ashbourne, shrugged into the frilled shirt he'd tossed over the foot of the bed last night. "Are we still attending the theatre next week?" she asked.
Stephen glanced at her in surprise as he picked up his neckcloth. "Of course.
" Turning to the mirror above the fireplace, he met her gaze in it while he deftly wrapped the fine white silk into intricate folds around his neck. "Why did you need to ask?""Because the Season begins next week, and Monica Fitzwaring is coming to town. I heard it from my dressmaker, who is also hers. "
"And?" he said, looking steadily at her in the mirror, his expression betraying not even a flicker of reaction.
With a sigh, Helene rolled onto her side and leaned on an elbow, her tone regretful but frank. "And gossip has it that you're finally going to make her the offer she and her father have been waiting for these three years past. "
"Is that what the gossips are saying?" he asked casually, but he lifted his brows slightly, in a gesture that silently, and very effectively, managed to convey his displeasure with Helene for introducing a topic that he clearly felt was none of her concern.
Helene noted the unspoken reprimand and the warning it carried, but she took advantage of what had been a remarkably open-and highly pleasurable-affair for both of them for several years. "In the past, there have been dozens of rumors that you were on the verge of offering for one aspiring female or another," she pointed out quietly, "and, until now, I have never asked you to verify or deny any of them. "
