by Cecilia Rene
“Karrington, I’ve heard the most scandalous news about you and Lady Olivia St. John.” He bounced up and down on the heels of his feet, like an anxious child.
“You know the duke does not entertain gossip, Darby,” Heartford slurred, pointing an unsteady finger.
“This particular bit of gossip was witnessed at the opera in front of all society and is front page in today’s gossip sheets.” The man shrugged his shoulders. “It seems you have compromised Lady Olivia’s reputation, and there is now a question of her virtue.”
Remington’s heart plummeted to the pit of his stomach. Standing, he took Darby by his shirt and pulled him forcefully. “If you ever slander her name again, I shall run you through with a blade.” He released the older man. “I must go check on Lady Olivia.”
Remington left the club, hoping that Hempstead didn’t think badly of him or Livie. He was sure to have heard the rumors circulating about the opera.
“Karrington!” he heard Windchester call after him, but his mind was on one thing.
He scrambled to his carriage, hoping to reach the Hempstead’s home before the news. He would do anything to protect Livie.
Anything.
Is Lady O’s reputation destroyed? Will the Bachelor Duke save her, or will he allow her to be ruined for all eternity?
Livie walked toward the door in Madam Beaumont’s dress shop. They had spent nearly two hours looking at wedding gown sketches for Julia. Somehow, they were leaving with sketches picked out for both Julia and Livie.
While Julia chose a more elaborate sketch, Livie’s gown was simple and flowing. She tried not to focus on the fact that Madam Beaumont would begin working on the dress right away. The truth was that Livie and Remington weren’t engaged, so choosing a gown seemed a little premature to her.
Livie wanted to hope, especially after the opera. She felt safe, secure, and wanted when in Remington’s arms. He wanted her, despite what the gossips and society said, and although she found it a little unbelievable, she trusted him.
“I will have both gowns prepared within a fortnight.” Madam Beaumont nodded enthusiastically.
The door was pushed open with force, Abigail rushed in holding the gossip sheets. “Lady Olivia, Lady Hempstead, you must come quickly, the earl is beside himself.” She held out the paper for Lady Hempstead, who took it in her hands.
“Oh dear, we must hurry.”
“What is it?” Mother Di leaned over, looking down at the paper. She had joined them at the dress shop at Livie’s mother’s invitation.
“Occupants at The King’s Theater witnessed more than Mozart’s La Clemenza di Tito opera. Our Bachelor Duke and Lady O provided their own entertainment. Was Lady O ruined, will the Earl of H demand our duke marry the lady? Only time will tell.”
Livie squeezed in and read over Mother Di’s shoulder. Her heart stopped as she read that a witness reported she was in the box alone with the duke.
“The earl is in a rage and demanded I come to bring you all home.” Abigail wrung her hands together nervously, as her eyes shifted from Livie to Lady Hempstead.
“I assure you I was only gone but a moment. The duke only removed Lady Olivia from the crowd because they were being rather rude,” Mother Di said to her mother as they walked out of the boutique beside the countess.
“I’m sure it is not your fault, Di. I shall speak to Lord Hempstead directly. Please do not trouble yourself.” She gave the other woman a quick air kiss on the cheek.
“I will come with you all. Perhaps I can help come up with a solution or ease his mind.” Mother Di gave her mother a small smile before she went to her own carriage.
Livie stepped inside their carriage and sat down. Her hands fidgeted with her skirts as she tried to prepare for her father’s wrath. Nothing could take away the anxious feelings that consumed her.
She could only imagine what her father must be thinking after reading the gossip. There was some truth to what was written in the paper, Remington had ruined her at the opera. Ruined her for anyone else.
The carriage stopped, and she felt fear take over her at facing her father. What could she say to defend herself?
Her mother led them into the house. Livie felt as if she were being escorted to her judgment. Julia took her by the hand and squeezed, providing her some small comfort.
They entered the parlor together finding her father standing beside the sideboard, drinking. His posture was straight while he stared down at the gossip sheet clenched in his other hand.
“Lord Hempstead, you sent Abigail for us?” her mother asked in the sweetest voice.
Her father whirled around. Livie saw the anger in his usually friendly face. The silence was deafening as everyone stood, not saying a word. “Julia, please leave us,” he demanded, his voice tight, his eyes trained on Livie, who chewed her bottom lip.
Beside her, Julia squeezed her hand, and Livie was thankful for the support.
“Father, I can explain.” Her voice was low and shaky.
Her father ignored her. His eyes were cold, so different from the love and affection she usually saw. She felt sick to her stomach at the thought of disappointing her father. Never in her life had she ever seen such a look upon his face.
“Theodore, I saw the paper, and I assure you they are mistaken—” Lady Hempstead began but was cut off by her husband’s angry voice.
“Mistaken? Witnesses say they were practically kissing!” he shouted at his wife, taking Livie by surprise. He never yelled at her mother. “All of society seems very sure that your daughter was alone in the opera box with him as well!” He rushed over to Livie, taking her by the arm in a tight grip.
“Father, you’re hurting me!” she pleaded with him, tears in her eyes.
“What happened at the opera?” He stared into her eyes, his face unreadable.
A commotion in the hall was heard, and seconds later, Remington burst through the door unannounced.
“Release her, Hempstead, this instant!” he commanded the older man, rushing over to them.
Her father released her immediately stepping back as if she burned his hand. “Dear God, forgive me, Livie.”
Remington went to Livie, gently placing his hand on her shoulders. “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice soft.
She nodded her head, still in shock that her father handled her in such away.
Remington turned back to her father. “Hempstead, if anyone is to blame for their behavior at the opera, it is I.”
Her father shook his head adamantly. “I was afraid of this happening. Society is too obsessed with you and now my daughter is ruined!”
“She is not ruined, Hempstead. Nothing untoward happened. I simply was translating the opera for Lady Olivia, perhaps we forgot ourselves for a moment, but you must know I will marry her if she will have me.” Remington looked at Livie, and she felt as if all the air had left the room.
She wanted to marry him, of course she did, but not like this. Not by force, she wanted him to crave her so much that he couldn’t be without her. She knew that feeling because it was slowing consuming her, seizing her every waking moment.
Livie turned away from his piercing gaze and took a seat on the chaise lounge to steady herself.
“Surely, it has not come to that.” Her mother spoke up, being the voice of reason.
Remington sat down beside Livie, taking her hand in his. She felt strange doing something so intimate in front of her parents.
“It doesn’t matter, that was always my intention. I don’t care if it happens sooner than I planned.” Remington’s thumb circled her hand, the act and his words causing her to relax. “What do you think, Livie?”
He wanted her as much as she wanted him.
A small smile graced her lips at his use of her nickname in front of her parents. Before she could answer, a knock on the door alerted them to another visitor.
Thomas walked in with Mother Di.
Remington stood to greet her. “Mother Di, what are you do
ing here?”
“I was on my way home from the dress shop when I had a wonderful idea.” Mother Di clapped her hands together.
“What is it, Di?” Her mother asked.
“I was thinking perhaps you and the ladies should come to Essex with me. That way Livie and Remington could have some time apart, which would give society time to find a new topic to discuss.” Mother Di took a seat on the sofa, a triumphant smile on her face.
Her father walked around the room, one of his hands on his chin. “I think that’s an excellent idea. When would you leave?”
“I believe we can leave at the end of the week. How does that sound Len?” Mother Di asked.
“That would be perfect. We will prepare, some time away from town is exactly what I think we need. Right, Livie?” her mother asked, forgetting all signs of propriety.
“Yes, I can’t wait to leave London for a few days. When would we return?” Livie resisted the urge to look at Remington, taking solace in his hand in hers.
“Perhaps you all should stay at least a fortnight.” Her father noticeably relaxed.
Livie put on a brave face, placing her hand down between her and Remington. He moved his fingers closer to hers. She sighed at his touch, knowing he felt the same.
How could she be away from him for a fortnight?
Two days after the opera debacle, society was still in an uproar over the gossip papers’ tale of Remington and Livie. Walking through the Egyptian Hall, Livie and Remington kept an appropriate amount of distance between them as they perused Giovanni Battista Belzoni’s show of the tomb of the Egyptian pharaoh Seti I.
The Valley of the Kings exhibit mesmerized Livie. She gasped as she came face to face with the head of the mummy of Seti I. Remington brushed his finger against hers, taking hold of her pinky finger and hiding their combined hands in the skirts of her light blue day dress.
She gave him a questioning look. “We mustn’t get caught doing anything too forward. I don’t think Father could take another scandal in the papers.”
He released her finger hastily. “Forgive me. Not being able to be near you is agony, especially knowing that you leave in a matter of days for a fortnight.”
“For me as well.” She glanced around the room, taking note of the watchful eyes.
They neared the end of the exhibit, waiting for Heartford, Julia, and Abigail to near so they could exit the crowded hall. Once the others arrived at the entrance, the jolly group piled into the carriage.
“That was simply amazing!” Julia exclaimed, bouncing in her seat beside the marquess. “To think, he lived hundreds of years ago, can you imagine?”
“Not at all! Did you see his face?” Livie could still see the mummy in her mind.
They chatted happily about the exhibit and all the wonderful things they viewed from the tomb as the carriage jostled side to side.
Across from Livie, Julia and Lord Heartford began whispering to each other, officially ignoring the other couple.
Remington took her by the hand, intertwining their fingers. “I’m going to miss you when you’re gone,” he whispered.
She could feel her body heat beneath his gaze. Looking away, she eyed the couple on the other side. Their heads were practically touching as if they were the only two people in the world.
“What will you do while I’m at Talbert Abbey?” Her voice sounded small to her own ears. She feared that he would entertain other ladies while she was gone, eventually replacing her.
Remington turned toward her, pulling her hand onto his thigh. Livie’s heart rate increased at the feel of the powerful muscles beneath the buckskin.
“I am going home to Hemsworth Place. I will be gone most of the time you are away.”
“You’re leaving London?” she asked rather loudly.
“I will return before you. Darling, I have to prepare my household staff for the future …” His words trailed off and she found herself feeling hopeful once again for a lifetime with him.
Her heart stopped beating. Her mouth dropped open. There was no mistaking what future he spoke of.
The carriage came to a stop. The marquess and Julia exited first. She turned back to them. “Livie, are you two coming?”
“Yes, of course.” Remington stepped out of the carriage. He reached out his hand for Livie, who took it.
“Wait for me in the parlor,” he whispered in her ear.
Lady O is not ruined! However, there is some new tantalizing information regarding Lady E. The question is, who is the father?
After he took the now-familiar path to the earl’s office, Remington found himself once again sitting in front of Hempstead.
“How was the Egyptian Hall? Anything happen?” Hempstead asked, tapping his hand against his wooden desk.
“Heads did turn, but that is to be expected.” Remington turned, watching the other man carefully. “I’m leaving tomorrow for my estate.”
“And will you return?” The earl intertwined his hands together, sitting his chin on top of them.
“Yes. When I return, I will have my mother’s ring. I will ask Lady Olivia to be my wife if you have no objections.” Remington locked eyes with the older man, not willing to show any sign of weakness.
The earl smiled slowly; the shape of his eyes so like his daughter’s. “Of course. I shall hold your secret until you ask her yourself.” He stood and rushed over to Remington, offering him his hand.
“Good, if you tell your wife, I believe she will inform my mother.” Remington rose to his feet, taking his offered hand. “I was worried you would object.”
“I acted very hastily after the opera. I can see you care for Livie and her you.” Hempstead gave him a healthy pat on the back before releasing him.
“I would like to say goodbye to Lady Olivia without a chaperone if you would not mind.” Remington surveyed the earl’s reaction.
“Of course. I suppose I can allow it, since you will be my son-in-law soon.” Hempstead led Remington out of his office.
Remington felt overjoyed at the thought of marrying Livie, and could not stop the wide grin on his face.
Once they reached the parlor, they found Lady Hempstead and Livie chatting happily over the chessboard.
Livie looked up at her father. “Checkmate, Father.” She gave him a wide smile.
“Impossible!” The earl rushed to the chessboard, staring down at her move, Remington behind him.
“Your Grace, I did not see you.” Livie stood.
“You were too busy celebrating your win to notice me,” he teased her, taking in the color of her cheeks and the smile at the corner of her soft lips.
“I protected my king!” Hempstead proclaimed, glancing from Livie to the board.
“It would seem not well enough. She appears to beat you often,” Remington said, catching the earl’s attention.
The earl looked up at him with a scowl on his face, before he went back to examining the chessboard.
Remington cleared his throat. “Wasn’t there something you wanted to speak with Lady Hempstead about?”
Hempstead straightened. “Yes, I did. Lady Hempstead, if you would come with me.” He offered a bewildered looking Lady Hempstead his arm.
“Yes, of course. Shall I call for Abigail?” she asked.
Remington knew that she very much liked to abide by the rules of propriety, and so did Hempstead, especially after the opera debacle. But was allowing him to say goodbye before they were separated for a fortnight.
“That will not be necessary. They will only be but a moment. Karrington is leaving tomorrow for his estate, so he will not be here when you all are off to Essex,” the earl explained.
“Oh, I see. Please return safely, Your Grace. Lady Diana has sent me a missive everyday regaling me with all the things we will do at Talbert Abbey,” she said, her smile wide like a child.
“Please enjoy every comfort as if it was your own home, my lady.” Remington bowed gracefully.
The earl escorted his wife out of t
he room, closing the door slightly behind them. Once they were gone, Remington pulled Livie to him for a brief kiss.
“Mmm, I miss kissing you,” she whispered against his lips.
Remington smiled, enjoying how much more comfortable she was in his arms. “Then I shall kiss you every day for the rest of our lives.” He bent down and placed another much longer kiss on her lips.
Her arms wrapped around him, her head tilted back to open up more to him as one of his hands gripped the nape of her neck. A silky strand of hair tickled his finger as he plundered her mouth with his tongue.
He backed her against the wall, one arm caging her in, while he massaged her neck with the other. A deep wanton moan escaped her, sending a heat of electricity straight to his manhood.
Livie sucked softly on his tongue, causing a growl to emanate from his chest. He trailed desperate kisses down her long neck to the valley between her breasts. Remington licked and nipped at the exposed flesh, the hand that was against the wall now traveled up her spine, and around to her heaving bosom.
He looked up at her, watching for any signs of discomfort as he slowly pulled the front of her day dress down, revealing her large orbs to his greedy eyes. “My god, you are exquisite, my Livie,” he groaned out before wrapping his lips around a dusky pink nipple.
“Remington,” she cried out in pleasure, gripping his hair tightly in her hand.
He lavished her nipple with attention, kissing, sucking, and biting, until she was limp in his arms. He moved to her other breast, licking a slow trail from one to another. His hand played with her free nipple, pinching and rubbing it between his fingers.
Livie laid her head against the wall, shaking in complete, unadulterated pleasure. He held her in his arms, wanting nothing more than to say to hell with propriety and claim her right there in her parents’ parlor, but he knew she deserved more. So much more than a quick fling with a house full of people.
Remington released her nipple, stood, and righted her dress. He kissed her lips sweetly as her eyes opened questioningly. “We must stop before I forget myself.”
