by Cecilia Rene
“We will marry in two days.” She sat up taller on the chaise. “I won’t give the Baron and Lady Windchester power over us. They already cost Amelia her life, and Emily, her mother.
Her father re-entered the parlor. “Lord Heartford has gone. Perhaps you should go check on Julia? Thomas said they did not part on the best of terms.” His voice was tired, and he looked as if he had aged years in one day.
“I should go to her. He was being very distant, which is understandable since he lost his sister.” Livie tried to rise but was detained by a strong hand on her shoulder.
“You’re not going anywhere on that ankle. I’ll carry you to Lady Julia’s room.” Remington’s voice was firm as he walked around the chaise to her side.
“You’re being a very bothersome nursemaid. Father nearly had to drag you out of the room for my bath,” she reminded him, and her father began coughing.
Remington knelt in front of her. “I’m finding it very difficult to be parted from you.” He kissed her knuckles gently, causing heat to rise in her cheeks as they were in front of her parents.
“Soon, you will tire of me.” She gave him a teasing smile.
“Never. I’ll never tire of you, love.” They stared at each other intently as his free hand stroked her cheek.
“Please remember yourselves. I’d hate to have Lord Hempstead have a fainting spell,” her mother warned them. “I will go see after Julia.” She stood and left the room.
Livie turned to find her father turning a strange shade of green she had never seen on him before. She knew that seeing her and Remington so affectionate toward each other made him uncomfortable. She was thankful when Thomas entered the room, followed by a flustered Mother Di and Mr. Prescott. Mother Di rushed past the butler and straight to Livie on the chaise.
Remington took a step back, allowing his mother space with his fiancée.
“We came as soon as we received Len’s note. The streets were absolute chaos with the fire and news of Lady Evers’ death.” Mother Di choked up. “How are you?”
Livie squeezed Mother Di’s hand, giving her a small smile. “I’m fine, just some scrapes and bruises … but I’m alive, thanks to Remington.”
Mother Di’s eyes widened, her gaze moving from her son to Livie. “What happened? Len only said there was a fire, and you all were injured. Then the maids beguiled us with gossip. Is it true, about Lady Evers?”
“I’m afraid so.” Remington bowed his head.
“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Lady Evers … Amelia.” Livie whispered her name, remembering her strength in that dark time.
“Prescott, make yourself comfortable. We are all family, after all. Besides, both Karrington and my daughter have thrown propriety out of the window today.” Her father gave them both a side glance.
“It is no bother at all, and we must forgive them after the ordeal they have been through.” Mr. Prescott walked over to Remington and put his hand on his shoulder. “How are Heartford and Windchester taking Lady Evers’ death?”
“I’m not sure about Windchester. He stayed behind to recover the body, but that was hours ago.” Remington’s shoulders dropped, and he blinked several times. “Heartford is in a really bad place. He was here, but he blames himself. If I wouldn’t have dragged him out of the burning townhome, I fear he would’ve perished trying to save her.”
Mother Di and Mr. Prescott both gasped as they listened to Remington retell the calamity of the fire.
Livie laid on the chaise, trying not to relive the entire nightmare over in her mind, but she could not help remembering every detail. It was as if she was still trapped in the house, surrounded by the flames with the ceiling falling around her. Panic rose in her chest as she remembered how helpless she felt that she could not reach Amelia.
Livie’s heart was heavy. At that moment, she vowed never to abandon Emily. She would always do whatever the child needed—be whoever she needed. Livie would never forget what Emily’s mother sacrificed to save them both.
The Bachelor Duke is no more!
After his courageous rescue of Lady O and baby E from the fire, Lady O forgave the duke. It’s official ladies, our bachelor duke is gone. Take out the handkerchiefs and wish him well.
On her wedding day, Livie allowed the stress of the past few days to fade to memories. She wanted to focus on the simple fact that she was marrying Remington, the man she loved and who loved her. Nothing else mattered beyond that.
She barely recognized the woman staring back at her in the mirror. She was very much the soon-to-be duchess, and not the girl who came to London at the start of the Season. Every inch of her body was scrubbed to the point of redness, and she was primped to perfection by Abigail and a despondent looking Julia.
When the countess and Mother Di walked into the room, they were both overcome with tears of joy. The countess held a small jewelry box in her hands as she walked to Livie. She lifted the top to reveal a pair of gold, flower-shaped earrings.
“No crying, you two,” Livie warned, pointing a stern finger at them.
“How can we not cry? Our children are getting married.” Mother Di pressed the corner of her eyes with her knuckles. “I just wish Eliza was here.”
“She is here, through your memories.” Her mother gave Mother Di a soft reassuring smile. She turned to Livie, holding up the small box. “I believe these will match the necklace your grandmother gifted you.” She removed the jewelry and placed each one on Livie’s ears.
“You know, my mother was a very cold woman. I had vowed never to treat my children the way she treated me. She gave me these earrings on my wedding day, but never the necklace. Maybe she had hoped she would have another daughter.” She chuckled to herself. “I was glad when she gave you the necklace. They belonged to her mother, and now they belong to you. One day you will give them to your daughter.”
Trying to control her tears, Livie hugged her mother. “Thank you, Mother.”
Mother Di approached Livie holding two boxes with a note on top. “Remington wanted me to give you these.” She handed Livie the letter first.
Livie scanned the letter, tears threatening to fall as she read Remington’s and Shakespeare’s words.
My Darling,
Love comforteth like sunshine after rain,
Love’s gentle spring doth always fresh remain,
Love surfeits not,
Love is all truth
The hair comb belonged to my mother, and I want you to have it and wear it today, our wedding day. The bracelet is my first gift to you as my duchess.
I love you with all my heart and soul.
Your soon to be husband.
Remington
Livie handed the note to her mother then took the objects out of Mother Di’s hands. The first box had a large hair comb that greatly favored a tiara. Its intricate design and the rows of diamonds were simply breathtaking.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered in shock.
“Eliza would wear this to every ball and event. She always said it made her feel like royalty.” Mother Di’s voice was full of love for her friend.
“Abigail, can you assist me?” Livie asked her friend, handing her the hair comb.
Once it was placed on her head with her veil in place, everyone looked on with happy tears and joy.
“One more, and then we must be going. We don’t want you late for your wedding,” Mother Di reminded her, nodding down to the small box.
“Yes, we can’t have that,” her mother agreed before turning to a quiet Julia. “Julia, will you go and make sure Emily and her maid are ready for the wedding?
“Yes, of course. I’ll meet you all in the carriage,” she said, before leaving the room.
Livie smiled after her cousin before she opened the small box to reveal a diamond bracelet. She gasped at its brilliance and handed it to Mother Di to help place it on her wrist.
“Now, let’s get you married, Your Grace,” her mother teased, happily bouncing in place like a litt
le girl.
Livie laughed at her mother, ready to begin the new chapter in her life. They made their way down the stairs; all the servants had stopped working to send their young mistress off to her wedding.
As she descended, they all clapped and cried. Livie smiled at each and every one of them. They had all been a part of her life since childhood.
“This isn’t goodbye; I will visit often. Not even marriage could keep me from Cook’s biscuits.” She laughed, looking over at the crying cook that had known her since birth.
“I’ll be sure to give the recipe to your new cook,” she said, crying into a handkerchief.
Lord Hempstead walked over to Livie, holding out his arm. “We must be going now.” He cleared his throat, blinking several times to control his own emotions.
“Yes, Father.” Livie took her father’s arm, so eager and happy to become Remington’s wife. She walked out of the townhome and to her new future.
The wedding of the Duke of Karrington and Lady Olivia St. John was supposed to be a small affair, but most of society came out to view the nuptials.
It mattered not to Remington, as he only had eyes for his bride as she walked down the aisle toward him. Livie was radiant in a blue gown, wearing his mother’s hair comb. His bride’s gray eyes danced as she stared at him. He held back the need to run and carry her, hoping she wouldn’t reinjure herself. But she walked slow and steady beside her father, who had watery eyes.
The ceremony lasted for what felt like forever to Remington, but finally, the bishop pronounced them husband and wife, and his world was finally set right. After years of being afraid to allow anyone in, to love anyone in fear that he would become a monster, Livie freed him from himself. She was everything to him, and he would spend his life proving that he was worthy of her.
After their wedding, they went to her parents’ house for the wedding breakfast. The guest list was only their family and close friends. Both Heartford and Windchester had sent a note asking for forgiveness. Their grief was too great for them to attend a happy affair.
Conversation at the wedding breakfast turned to Lady Evers’ death since every newspaper in London mentioned her. News of the fire and her death was spreading due to the involvement of two prominent members in society. The Gazette praised her life, her fashion, and her beauty; in fact, every newspaper only listed all her good qualities, and none of the petty gossip that seemed to follow her throughout her short life.
The gossip sheets surprisingly praised her character and qualities, conveniently forgetting they had indeed printed vicious and personal things about her life.
Remington was happy when the talk of Lady Evers’ death came to an end as he was afraid the conversation would bring up the emotional events of the fire to the forefront of Livie’s mind. But one look at his bride’s happy face, and he knew that all was well with her.
Little Emily was the belle of the wedding breakfast, every woman wanting to hold her, except Lady Heartford. She and her brother-in-law, Mr. Livingstone, attended to represent Lord Heartford.
Standing from the table, Remington looked to Livie. “We should get home since we will be leaving at first light for Essex.”
She smiled at the word “home” and took his hand. “We should.”
“Oh, will I not see you before you leave?” Lady Hempstead asked, looking distressed.
“Mother, we will return the day before Julia and Lord Heartford’s wedding.”
“Now, Len, I thought you were being strong?” Mother Di reminded her.
“Yes, I was, but then the fire happened, and now I find I’m more emotional than expected.”
Hempstead took his wife by the hand and squeezed it. “Soon, we will be all alone.” His voice was wistful as he smiled at Livie then Julia.
“We will always come back,” Julia reminded them, her mood lighter since the wedding.
Remington led Livie out of the dining room, followed by the good wishes of their guests. They walked to the carriage with clasped hands and matching smiles on their faces.
Once they were alone, Remington kissed his wife passionately as he lifted her to sit on his lap. Her hands draped around his neck, pulling herself closer to him.
Their kiss was long and languid as the carriage bounced through the unsteady streets of London. His lips traveled down his wife’s long neck, kissing and savoring the taste of her skin. “I love you,” he whispered, causing her to shiver. He never would tire of saying it or feeling her reaction to his words.
“I love you,” she moaned, her back arching wanting more of him.
Looking into her gray eyes, he could see her love and passion. He kissed her lips. “And I love hearing you say it, my duchess.”
Her fingers ran through his hair as she pulled him to her, deepening the kiss. His hand traveled up her leg, massaging her calf, as their tongues slowly danced.
The carriage came to a stop, and a soft knock alerted them that they had arrived at their townhome.
“Are you ready to see your new home, my duchess?” he asked.
“Yes, Your Grace.” Her voice was deep and sultry, her lips already swollen from his kisses.
Waiting a moment to allow his wife to adjust her dress, Remington opened the door and assisted her down from the carriage.
The door to their townhome opened to reveal Dayton and all the servants’ lined up in the vestibule waiting on their new duchess.
“Dayton! Allow me to introduce my wife, the Duchess of Karrington.” Remington’s voice was filled with pride as he looked down at his wife.
“Your Grace, welcome home. It will be an honor to serve you.” Dayton bowed gracefully.
“Thank you, Dayton.” Livie gave the older butler a warm smile.
Remington watched as one by one each servant was introduced to his wife. He couldn’t help the wide, permanent smile that refused to leave his face.
She was finally his duchess.
Remington walked into his bedroom, wearing nothing but his nightshirt. Livie was still in the adjoining duchess’s rooms, preparing. He felt rather nervous for a man grown and familiar with the company of ladies. However, this was his wife—his Livie.
He walked over to the bed, noting the champagne and glasses on the night table. He poured two glasses, wanting to calm her nerves for their first night as man and wife. Although they were intimate in Essex, a night he constantly played in his mind, tonight would be different.
The sound of the adjourning door opening caught Remington’s attention. He looked up to find Livie standing nervously across the room; her flaxen hair draped down her back in beautiful ringlets. Some of the tresses hung over her shoulder to the swell of her breast.
His gaze traveled the length of her body in the darkened room. The sheer chemise she wore revealed flawless skin, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss every inch of her.
He walked to her and handed her a glass. “I had champagne brought up. I thought we could toast our marriage, and it will help if you are nervous.”
“Thank you. I’m not nervous about you, perhaps just anxious to be yours.”
He slid his free arm around her waist, and his hand settled on the swell of her behind. “I’m anxious too, darling. Anxious to start our life together.” His heart was full of so much love for his Livie … his wife.
Heat spread across her cheeks, and she bit her bottom lip. The movement was seductive to him, and he leaned down to trail his tongue across the abused flesh.
“Don’t injure my wife’s lips, I need them,” he teased.
“What are you going to do with your wife’s lips?” Her breathing hitched.
“I’m going to kiss them for the rest of our lives,” he whispered, staring into her eyes.
Remington captured her mouth with his. Her hand moved to the opening of his shirt, her fingers curling in the light smattering of chest hair.
Livie broke their connection, panting. “We’re going to spill the champagne. Perhaps we should toast first?”
; “Yes, forgive me. I lose myself whenever we are alone.” He released her, holding up his glass of champagne.
She held up her own, smiling at him.
“To a long and happy marriage with you, my duchess. You are my very heart and soul. I love you, Livie.”
“To a long and happy life, Your Grace. I love you, too.” They clinked their glasses together before they both took a sip.
Remington took her by the hand and led her over to the bed. He placed their glasses on the night table.
When he turned back to Livie, she reached out her hand for him. He took it, bringing her flush against his body. His mouth plunged the depth of hers, exploring and needy. She was soft where he was hard, and his hands freely roamed, ending up at her lush bottom.
He lifted her chemise, slowly pulling it up her body, revealing inch by inch of creamy skin. Breaking their kiss, he lifted it over her head. He took a step back to gaze at the perfection that was now his wife.
A rosy blush formed on her cheeks, and she shyly ducked her head.
“Don’t hide from me. Never doubt my love for your body.” His voice was deep and husky as he lifted her chin.
Livie’s hands slowly traveled over him, her eyes wide and exploring. Soon her hands took hold of his nightshirt, lifting it. He raised his arms, giving her a devilish smirk. Livie stood on her tiptoes, trying to get the garment over his head. He pulled it the rest of the way, and they both laughed.
He flung his nightshirt across the room, not caring where it landed, only wanting to be with his wife.
“I remember how much you enjoyed my body in Essex,” Livie whispered. Her hands traced slowly down his stomach, stopping at his navel.
His breath caught, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t think or form words with Livie touching him so intimately. His cock was hard and ready for her warmth.
Livie’s fingertips traced down to his hardness, taking it gently in her hand. Her grip was timid as she stroked him. The movement nearly brought him to his knees.
