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  He entered the front hall, waiting for Lucy in the drawing room as her mother had instructed. Just as he entered, he was stopped in the hall by Lord Heath.

  “This arrived for you,” he somberly said as he handed him the missive. Dean looked down at the paper edged in black. It was at that moment Lucy came tripping down the stairs. He looked up at her, but she’d already seen the paper in his hand. She put a hand to her mouth.

  “It’s nothing.” Dean tried to slip it into his coat.

  “It isn’t nothing. Someone has died.” She came to his side.

  Lord Heath startled him by gently pulling his hand back out of his coat, still clutching the letter. “Open it, son.”

  Dean nodded and they followed him into the drawing room. Lucy sat beside him on the sofa as he tore the seal and read the scant few lines he’d already guessed. His father had passed, and his presence was required. He closed his eyes and waited for the grief, but none came. When he opened them, Lord Heath was gone and only Lucy remained.

  “I’m sorry.” She covered his hand and squeezed.

  “There is no need to be sorry.”

  “But I am. I can’t imagine what it must feel like.”

  “It feels like nothing,” he said curtly.

  She pulled her hand away and remained silent.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t want to punish you for his transgressions.”

  “I understand.”

  “Do you? Your father is everything a father should be.”

  “Do you want to be alone?” She stood.

  “No.” He cursed himself. He was being an ass. “Don’t go.” He stood. Crumpling the paper and tossing it into the hearth. “Let’s walk outside.” He offered his arm.

  She smiled tightly and took it.

  He led her outside and they strolled silently along the gravel walks. After a while, he managed to bury his anger toward his father inside and focus on what this morning was supposed to be about. He was going to propose to her. He almost couldn’t believe it. What a sharp twist of fate.

  “Lucy…” He pulled her out of view of the house, seeking privacy in the rippling tendrils of a weeping willow.

  She smiled timidly.

  “Have you ever been proposed to?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then this is a first for both of us.” He dropped to one knee.

  Her eyes grew misty as she smiled down at him. “Forgive me if I bungle this.”

  “Likewise.” He chuckled.

  They both laughed and the tension eased.

  “Will you be my wife?” he said effortlessly.

  “Yes.” A single tear fell and caught in the corner of her smile. He stood and caught it with his thumb, dipping his head to taste of her sweetness. She threw her arms around her and he lifted her, spinning around until he was giddy and disoriented. He set her down, but they still clung to each other.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “For what?”

  “For not giving up.”

  “I tried to, but I couldn’t. Every time I looked at you or spoke to you, no matter how many times you told me not to, I fell in love with you a little more.”

  “I may live to regret saying this, but thank God for your stubbornness.”

  She giggled and he claimed that giggle in another kiss, sweeping her off her feet again and pinning her to the trunk of the willow. He began to gather up her skirts.

  “Dean…” she gasped.

  “Shhh. You said you wanted to experience new things, didn’t you?”

  “I did,” she exhaled shakily as his fingers stroked her core.

  “Let me show you the advantages of marrying a man like me.”

  Chapter 26

  December 3rd

  The day of Lucy and Dean’s wedding was one to remember. Overnight, a freak storm had covered the land in snow. Lucy squealed with delight when she saw this, but her mother required smelling salts.

  Their ceremony was held at their village church. It wasn’t a large wedding, and there was no pink tulle despite her mother’s fervent wishes. Lucy included ivy in her bouquet in honor of the Ivy Society, and she was ecstatic to be surrounded by her friends. Heather, Anabelle, Hazel, Thea all attended. Rose and Charlotte were dearly missed. Lucy worried over their whereabouts when their invitations were returned unopened.

  For a week, she got to spend her days lounging with her friends. They shared the amusing stories of their first days as married women. Hazel’s was not so amusing.

  “I’m so sorry, dear. I wish you would have confided in me. I would have tossed the old bat out myself.”

  Hazel laughed. “It sorted itself out wonderfully.”

  Anabelle hugged her sister. “In the future, try to remember you don’t have to suffer alone. We are here for you.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m so happy to see you all.” Heather smiled tearfully. We’ve changed so much since the Endervale house party. So much has happened.

  Lucy couldn’t have asked for a better beginning for her new life. She was marrying the man of her dreams, and most of her friends would be there to see it.

  The best gift of all was the groom himself. Dean had purchased a small manor for the two of them, only an hours ride away. She could see her family whenever she wanted.

  It was almost time for them to leave, so Lucy retired to her room to change. She looked back down the hall to find a small army of women following her.

  “What is this?”

  “We’ve come to give our goodbyes,” Heather said.

  “And I, of course, must speak to you privately,” her mother said with a blush.

  Lucy sighed. “Come along.” She led them to her room, giving Marigold an apologetic smile as they filed in, claiming every available surface to sit.

  “We’ve moved the party into my room,” Lucy quipped.

  “So it seems. I shall leave you. Your trunks are packed and I’ve set out your blue carriage dress.”

  “Thank you, Marigold. I have plenty of help to change. Go ready yourself for the journey.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Lucy met all the expectant glances of her friends and her mother, and emotion washed over her. She hadn’t cried once today, but now, as she found refuge from the endless stream of guests, she felt weepy. She felt loved, and she had these beautiful women to thank.

  She stepped forward and hugged her mother first.

  “My dear,” her mother squeezed her tightly and whispered in her ear, “I really must speak with you. It is a delicate tradition.”

  “No you don’t,” Lucy whispered back.

  Her mother pulled back and frowned at her. “But I must. How will you know…?” She gave her a sneaking glance.

  “I don’t ever want to hear you discuss the intimacies that occur between man and woman. As far as I’m concerned, a stork delivered me with the morning post.”

  Her mother rolled her eyes, and Lucy had the distinct feeling she was looking at her future self. She laughed. “Don’t worry, Mother. I’ve many married friends now. I’ll figure it out.” She winked.

  All the women laughed except her mother, who shook her head at her daughter in exasperation.

  She turned Lucy away from her and helped her out of her wedding gown while the others chatted. It was then Lucy noticed Thea’s red-rimmed eyes and sorrowful cast.

  “Dear, what is the matter?”

  “Nothing.” She tried to smile.

  Everyone surrounded her.

  “It’s obviously not nothing.” Hazel took her hand.

  “We’re all here for you, darling. Whatever it is we can help,” Anabelle added.

  Thea laughed as tears spilled over. “That isn’t really true, is it? You’ve all gotten married and begun new lives, and I’m still waiting for…for… I don’t know what I’m waiting for.”

  Lucy put her arm around her. “You’re waiting for a man worthy of you to come along.”

  Thea shook her head and sobbed. “There i
sn’t such a man. Tomorrow, I will leave and—and be forced to wed my cousin.”

  There was a collective gasp.

  Lucy stood in front of Thea and clasped her shoulders. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not supposed to be here. I ran away from my family and took the post coach just to get here. When I return, I shall be married to Richard.

  Lady Heath moaned. “My heavens!”

  “No. I will not allow it.”

  “I don’t have a choice and neither do you.”

  Lucy shrugged out of her hold.

  “You will stay here. Mother, tell her!”

  Lady Heath nodded, but she didn’t look hopeful.

  “There, you see?”

  Thea gave Lady Heath a watery smile. “Thank you, but I couldn’t burden you like that. My family will come for me.”

  “Then you shall come with me. They don’t know where I will be living from now on.”

  Thea wept harder. “I can’t impose on your new marriage.”

  “I won’t let you return to your family and be married to your toad of a cousin.”

  “She can come with us back to Scotland,” Heather added.

  “Or with either of us.” Anabelle and Hazel moved closer.

  “When you turn twenty-one, you will be free of your families’ control. We will hide you until then.”

  Thea covered her face with her hands and cried. They all gathered around her, a little coven of comfort.

  * * *

  Lucy wiped fresh tears from her eyes as she sat back against the squabs across from her husband. She smiled at him and he smiled at her. The land outside them was covered in a blanket of snow, their carriage a cocoon of warmth. She lifted the blanket over her lap and patted the seat. He chuckled as he moved to sit beside her, wrapping his arm around her. She rested her head against this shoulder and sighed.

  “I hope that is a sigh of contentment.”

  “I’m far more than content.”

  “Oh?”

  She turned her head to look at him and he kissed her lips. She sighed again.

  “I have something I should tell you.”

  He raised a brow. “Should I be afraid?”

  “No. But you may be cross with me for not speaking with you first.” She sat up straighter. “I tend to do things like that.”

  “I’ve noticed,” he said with meaning. “So what is this something?”

  “Thea will be coming to stay with us tomorrow.”

  His brow furrowed. “Is something wrong?”

  “She’s run away from her family. They’re trying to force her marriage to her cousin.”

  Dean scowled. An array of emotions went through him. “Force her?”

  “She wasn’t even allowed to come to the wedding. She snuck away and took a mail coach. Please understand. I know it sounds ludicrous, but in two weeks, she will be twenty-one and they cannot force her then. We only need to shelter her for a little while.”

  “And then what? She returns to them?” He scoffed.

  Lucy panicked. She didn’t want this to be their first fight. “She only agreed to stay because we will be honeymooning in Brighton. After that, she can go to visit Anabelle, Hazel, or even Heather. She won’t be a burden.”

  “Of course, she won’t. She needn’t leave when we return. She can stay forever if she wishes.”

  “You mean it?”

  “Did you think I would turn her out?”

  “No…but I was afraid…”

  “She is family. I know more than anyone how it feels to have your hand forced. We will shelter her as long as she needs it.”

  Lucy jumped into his lap and began peppering his face with kisses.

  “You are the most perfect husband any woman could ask for.”

  He chuckled, wrapping his arms around her so she couldn’t leave his lap. “Are there any more surprises I should be made aware of?”

  “Just one, but I promise you will love it.”

  Chapter 27

  Lucy looked out over the garden of her new home. It was sorely in need of attention, but at present, it awed her. The full moon shone brightly on a landscape that hadn’t been blanketed in snow, but a thin layer of frost. It sparkled in the light, glittering like every leaf had been covered in diamonds.

  Her heart was so full, it hurt. Was it possible to be so happy it was painful? She laughed to herself. Her nerves were a bit shaken, but she turned away from the window, toying with the tie of her robe.

  “Are you ready?” she whispered.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Marigold sat behind a screen with her drum.

  “Do you think he will like it?”

  Marigold giggled. “I cannot imagine a man who would not.”

  Lucy agreed, but she was still nervous. She’d only danced like this in front of Marigold and Thea when Marigold was teaching them the ancient style of dancing. She had never imagined she would now do it for her husband. It had been her guilty secret, her distraction during her absence from the season. If her mother had known what they’d been up to… Lucy grinned. She’d probably be living in a nunnery right now.

  She heard him knock softly on the door.

  “Come in,” her voice was shaky. He walked in, noticed the candles that adorned every surface, and his eyes blazed with heat as they touched her. He closed the door and began to remove his coat.

  “Wait.” Lucy bid. She directed his attention to the screen. “We’re not alone.”

  He hesitated. “I don’t understand.”

  “Take a seat.” She waved to the chair in the middle of the room. He looked at it as if seeing it for the first time. He slowly sat and looked about in wariness. He raised one brow at her. “What is this?”

  “Your surprise. Just watch.” Lucy took a deep breath. “I’m ready, Marigold.”

  Marigold began to tap out a rhythm on the drum. It was exotic and primal. Lucy closed her eyes as she pulled on the ties of her robe. She let the rhythm wash over her, feeling the beats inside her. She loved this music. She loved how it reverberated inside her, willing her body to move as one with the rhythm.

  She swayed slowly at first, feeling the way her hips moved, feeling the pounding of the drum as her pulse. She pulled open the halves of her robe, shimmying her shoulders so it fell to the floor at her feet. She stepped away from it. She wore a red silk nightgown so soft and light, it almost felt like she wore nothing at all. Around her hips, she tied a sash. It dipped and swayed with her hips, enunciating their movement. She opened her eyes. She willed herself to look at him. He was sitting back in the chair, hands gripping the arms. His eyes possessed her hungrily.

  She grew bolder in her movements, her confidence soaring as he watched her. Her chest and stomach undulated as she moved closer to him until she stood directly before him, her hips popping to the beat, her rolls fluid with the music. She snaked even closer, dipping and rolling her hips, daring him with her eyes to reach out and touch her.

  He did, his hands grabbing her hips as she swayed.

  She laughed huskily, teasing him with her hips.

  “Enough.” He shot to his feet and pulled her hips to his. She could feel his state of arousal.

  “I’m not done yet.”

  “Make her leave.”

  The drum stopped and Marigold departed without another word.

  Lucy bit her lip as she looked up into his eyes and saw the fire there. The heat of his body washed over her.

  “Did you like it?”

  “Do you even have to ask?” He pressed his forehead to hers, then swooped down and caught her lips. He lifted her off her feet, carrying her to the edge of the bed. He set her down again, laying her back with her hips on the edge. He ran his hands up her legs, pushing her nightgown to her hips. He paused to undo the knot on the scarf, slowly pulling it out from under her.

  He slid her nightgown to her waist and spread her thighs apart. “Don’t move.”

  She couldn’t if she wanted to. His burning gaze held her immobile as he st
ood back and began to slowly undress.

  By the time his hands reached his trousers, she was aching with anticipation, exposed to his wandering gaze. She could feel her own body growing wet and ready for him, her nerves stretched with longing.

  He undid the buttons slowly, inching the pants down over his hips, his eyes focused on her core. He licked his lips and Lucy shivered.

  He inched the trousers lower, and Lucy greedily waited for his manhood to spring free. She wanted to touch him this time, to explore him as thoroughly as he had her. Lying still and observing was not in her nature. She pushed herself to her elbows.

  “I didn’t tell you to move.”

  “Since when do I listen?” She reached for him, pulling him free and admiring the treasure she had found. She sat up to better explore him and was surprised he didn’t stop her. He dropped his head back and sighed. She smiled in satisfaction and touched him gently. “Tell me what to do.”

  He put his hands around hers and showed her how to squeeze and stroke him. She looked up gleefully and bit her lip. “Like this?”

  He closed his eyes. “Yes,” he moaned.

  Lucy turned her attention back to her quest and explored, feeling the silky smooth skin, so hot and soft. She traced a vein that ran down the side. She cupped his jewels, both curious and aroused by the feel of him and the sounds her touch elicited from him.

  “I want to know more,” she said hungrily.

  “I can’t handle more.” He groaned.

  “Please, Dean.”

  “Lucy.” He bent over her, forcing her back to the bed. “I need you. I’ve missed you, I’ve longed for you these past months. Don’t make me wait. We’ve all the time in the world now.”

  His words thrilled her, the emotion behind them more than the actual words. He said them with such power, such need.

  “I love you, Dean. Take me.” She caught his mouth as he drew near. He seared her with his kiss but then drew away. He looked very serious.

  “I love you, too.”

  Lucy stilled. She knew this was not easy for him, not after Rosie. “I know. I can feel it when you touch me.”