The Forsaken Love of A Lord

by Vayden, Kristin

  Olivia opened her eyes slowly, wonder and delight dancing within her gaze as he saw the return of the glow of affection she'd held in her gaze yesterday.

  And it seemed… that all was right in the world.

  Save one thing.

  He didn’t want to ruin the moment, yet as honest as she had been with him, she deserved the same honesty in return. And as she had spoken about what her mother had said, a few similarities began to tickle his consciousness, adding up to a disturbing conclusion.

  One he’d rather never speak aloud, let alone know about.

  Yet the proof couldn’t be denied.

  Not after today.

  Hang it all.

  “Olivia?” he whispered her name, though he felt his brow furrow.

  “Yes?” she answered, and her brow pinched as well, no doubt taking in his shift in expression.

  “I’m going to tell you something I suspected a long while ago, but didn’t give much weight to, simply because I wished to remain ignorant in case it was, indeed, correct. Yet today some occurrences took place that reminded me of the past, and, coupled with what you said your mother had said, I can no longer deny my suspicions.” He reached down and grasped her hands.

  “Marybelle and your mother were quite close. In fact, often your mother would come over and visit for hours on end. Slowly, she began visiting at times she surely knew your sister was out. I’d speak with her for a few moments, but never anything more. No offence, but I’ve never taken a shine to your mother,” he admitted.

  “None taken,” Olivia replied, her gaze sharp as she listened intently.

  “A few of those times, she asked for assistance with something odd, like lace on her gown or a button on her shoe.” He shook his head. “At first I was helpful, but it grew awkward, and I refused to see her. Shortly after, Marybelle began to take private audience with your mother.” He shook his head. “Your sister was already casting her eyes elsewhere,“ he admitted. “And even once told me her mother had encouraged her. Shortly after, things took a turn for the worse, and you know the rest of the story. I suspected your mother to have more involvement that I could prove, but what could I do? That was one of the main reasons I made sure your family could not contact me.” He spoke firmly.

  “Because of my mother?” Olivia asked, her expression dawning understanding.

  “Yes.” He nodded. “Yet today, when I was visiting you, she acted in a manner that was quite… forward… and when you arrived you could testify that she was quite close in proximity to my person.”

  “I noticed that… it was quite disconcerting.” Her eyes narrowed slightly as she seemed to consider his words.

  “Once you left, she said something that rather confirmed everything. And in a way, makes me concerned for you as well.”

  After relaying to her what her mother had said, Olivia’s eyes widened. “Indeed?”

  “Indeed.”

  Her shoulders slumped slightly as if weighed down by the knowledge.

  “Olivia, dearest, this is not your burden to bear,” Edward replied, touching her shoulders slightly. “If there is one thing I’ve learned, it is that someone else’s sins do not define you.”

  “But it is my mother.”

  “Yes, your mother… not you.”

  Slowly she leaned forward and rested her head on his shoulder. “Then I think we need to change our plans,” she spoke after a moment.

  “Oh?”

  “Indeed. Since I see the validity of your words — rather, I don’t want to be concerned that my wedding will be foiled by a jealous woman casting her eyes at my husband. Mother or not, I refuse to allow any potential drama to poison my wedding day.” She stood straight, a resolute light of determination in her gaze.

  “Are you…? No… you did say you didn’t favor London…” He felt a mischievous grin take over his features.

  “Dreadful place.” She smiled back, her expression playful.

  “And Scotland is beautiful this time of year…” he suggested, his tone far more hopeful than he'd intended.

  “And no rules…” She raised a daring eyebrow.

  “And it’s not far from my Lothbridge Estate…”

  “I do love the country,” she flirted.

  “Then I believe we have a plan.” He chuckled and picked her up by her waist and swung her around once, exhilarated by the woman that had all but suggested they elope. To Gretna Green.

  The scandal would be epic.

  The reclusive lord, bent on revenge, married the sister of his wicked former wife… and not just married — eloped.

  It would be brilliant.

  “When do we leave?” she asked, breathless as he placed her down back on solid ground.

  “Well, it is rather early, I believe we could make it there by sundown.”

  “I’ll need some clothes…” she considered.

  “But not too many.” He winked and could not help himself as he leaned in and kissed her hungrily.

  “Not too many at all,” she whispered back between passionate exchanges.

  “Hmm…” He released her. “…I say an hour. How trustworthy is your maid over there?” He tipped his head in a backward direction, gesturing to Polly.

  “I’d said quite, since she’s allowed you to kiss me several times.” She winked.

  “Are you quite fond of her?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Do you think she’d be willing to gather a few clothes and exit through the servant’s door and come along with us as your maid?” he asked hopefully. After all, he wanted his future wife to have some sense of propriety, even if they were hanging the rest of it as they eloped.

  “I do believe she will.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?”

  Twelve hours later

  Olivia couldn’t stop smiling. It was utterly impossible. What had started as the most confusing day of her life had quickly transpired into the most romantic and adventurous! Polly had made short work of gathering her necessities and, after a quick stop at the Langley town home, they were off in a well-sprung carriage for Gretna Green.

  Upon arrival, they were married over an anvil, yet it could have been Westminster Abby for as reverent as it felt as Lord Langley spoke his solemn vows to love and cherish her, his gaze one of tender affection and possessive passion carefully restrained… but full of promises.

  Heated promises.

  As she repeated the words after the officiator, the blacksmith performing the ceremony, they echoed in her heart, ringing with the honesty of her vows, hope multiplying with each word.

  It was a simple affair. The blacksmith had smudges of soot across his forehead, contrasting with his bright smile that welcomed them with, encouraged them with every word spoken in his gravely brogue. The air was crisp and faintly scented with smoke, a far cry from the polished St. George’s in Hanover Square. Yet, even without the pomp and glory of a church wedding, the ceremony was every bit as meaningful, as real. And before long, it was finished, leaving them staring at one another, full of the joy and awareness that they were now one. Husband and wife.

  Sealing their covenant with a kiss, Lord Langley, her husband, met her lips even before the blacksmith had finished the invitation. The kiss was warm, soothing yet deeply passionate, stirring her within in a powerful way. Olivia could almost taste his joy, his adoration. Matching his enthusiasm, she drew back only when she heard the blacksmith’s deep and rumbling chuckle.

  Immediately, her husband secured the finest room at the local inn, and, once they arrived in the room, he kissed her soundly then left, giving her a moment to ready herself for bed.

  Though she doubted there would be much sleeping, she was thankful for the moment to herself. To say that the day had been a whirlwind would be an understatement, yet she would not have changed it for the world. Rather, it was the most beautiful love story that she was not reading, but living!

  Anxious and excited, yet utterly impatient, she struggled with what to do. Did she take
down her hair? Did she dress in her night rail? Did she wear nothing at all?

  She blushed at even the thought!

  After debating, she requested Polly’s assistance in removing her dress. Swiftly, she clothed herself — if one could call it that — in her soft sleeping garment and excused Polly. As she sat in front of the small vanity, she'd just started to remove her pins, her hands slightly shaking, when there was a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” she called, swallowing her anxiety.

  The door swung open gently, and her husband entered.

  How she’d never tire of saying it! Edward, her husband.

  Hers.

  His gaze seemed to drink her in, not missing one inch of her body, one reflection of light in her eyes. Then his brow furrowed.

  Her heart hammered.

  “Are you well?” he asked, immediately concerned.

  “Yes, simply… nervous.” She exhaled a pent-up breath.

  “Ah, my sweet Olivia,” he crooned then strode toward her. Swiftly, he wrapped her into a warm embrace that was immediately comforting, immediately warming.

  And that gentle warming grew to a smoldering heat she couldn’t name.

  “I know this was quite an adventure today.” He paused, as if the next words were forced from him against his will, but resolute he pressed on. “If you’d wish to wait—“

  “No,” Olivia replied directly.

  “Are you sure? Not that I wish to change your mind, love,” he whispered against her hair as his warm breath tickled the top of her head.

  Giggling softly, she inhaled the rich scents of cedar and spice, of masculine beauty and love that created a entrancement about them.

  “I’m quite sure. Actually…” She giggled softly. “…I do believe it has been the most brilliant of days. And I cannot think of a more delightful way to end it.” She spoke with a grin as she leaned back and gazed at him, speaking the words he had mentioned that morning at the park.

  That morning, though it felt like a lifetime ago.

  “Ah, all it took was a quick elopement to make the adjustment, hmm?” He chuckled and leaned down to kiss her tenderly, causing her body to hum.

  “Hmm…” She sighed, then swallowed. “…I’m simply unsure as to, that is…” she trailed off.

  “Ah, sweet Olivia.” He leaned back and tipped her chin up then caressed her jawline, his gaze dark with desire, yet beautifully restrained.

  For her.

  Surely that was love?

  Though they hadn’t said the words, it was implied in every action he had done. Even now as he was certainly putting her concerns before his husbandly rights.

  Of course, they were her wifely rights as well, though she was sure she’d not have to remind him!

  Was there any truer test of love than sacrifice?

  “Physical love is exactly that, the physical expression of what is already present in my heart. I didn’t want to rush you, to say something you might not be able to, in completely honestly, reciprocate. But it’s the truth. I love you, Olivia. More importantly, your heart is safe with me. You are mine, my wife, and as such, I swore to you today that I’ll be faithful to you alone, that you alone will have my heart… and my body. So don’t be fearful. This is not about an action, but an expression. The truest form of lovemaking is the kind that simply pours from your heart, from your soul. It’s an outpouring of what is already present but cannot be contained with words, demanding action. It’s the consummation of what is present in my heart, of what I will vow not only today, but every day of my life,” he finished, brushing a stray hair away from her eye and behind her ear.

  “I love you.” Olivia couldn’t withhold the words a moment longer! How she loved him, how deeply it was set in her very bones.

  “Then you have nothing to fear,” he whispered as he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

  But Olivia found that she wanted anything but gentle, anything but chaste. Instinctually, she pressed into him, tilting her head to grasp more of his kiss, to demand more of it.

  Her husband was abundantly winning to oblige and returned her kiss with a hot demand that sent her senses reeling.

  His warm hands caressed her shoulders and made their way to her hair. Driving his fingers through her locks, the soft plink of pins hitting the floor accentuated their heated kiss.

  Unwilling to be left out, she reached up and wove her fingers through his dark mane, delighting in the soft texture of his wavy locks.

  Once her hair was thoroughly mussed, his hands roamed her curves, as if memorizing them and pulling them in tightly, molding soft flesh to hardened lines. Desire wove its magic around them, and before Olivia knew it, she was being pressed into the soft mattress by her husband’s welcome weight.

  He wasted no time in exploring her body, her own greedy hands taking in every line and curve of his back, delighting in his form.

  “Too many clothes,” her husband mumbled against her lips as he lifted himself from the bed.

  Her lips felt swollen from his assault, her body immediately desperately missing the warmth and passion from her lover.

  Her husband tugged at his cravat and began removing his white shirt. Olivia simply watched as multiple articles of clothing made their way to the floor, each piece like a veil revealing a new view of her husband never before seen.

  And it was a masterpiece.

  In less time than she would have thought, he joined her once more, kissing her playfully with a passion simmering beneath the surface that turned her blood to fire.

  “You—“ He kissed her neck hungrily. “—are still wearing far too many—“ He nibbled at her collar bone. “—clothes.” He growled.

  “I utterly agree.” She gasped, hungry for more of her husband.

  “Allow me.” Her husband ceased his trail of kisses along her jaw line. He took a deep breath and stood. He held out his hand and waited for her to grasp it as his gaze all but burned through her with its passion.

  Boldly she took in his beauty and smiled.

  “Minx.” He spoke wickedly, reached for her hand, and pulled her up. Tugging at the ribbon around her neck, he pulled entirely loose the silken loop, leaving her night rail hanging off one shoulder.

  His eyes black with longing, he leaned forward and kissed her exposed flesh, all while deftly removing the garment from her other shoulder till the final barrier landed in a pool at her feet.

  He inhaled deeply the flesh at her shoulder and backed away slowly, his gaze taking her in once more, only this time leaving nothing to the imagination.

  Fleetingly, Olivia found it amazing that she wasn’t ashamed or nervous anymore, rather, bold and hungry, thrilled, and feeling utterly beautiful, utterly desirable because her husband, her husband loved her. She was his — body, mind, and soul. And he was hers.

  It was delicious.

  It was beautiful.

  And it was only the beginning.

  Edward smiled mischievously and charged her.

  A giggle escaped her lips and as she ran, but not too quickly. Because more than anything she wanted to be caught.

  And in only a moment, she was.

  And it was more delightful than she could have ever imagined.

  EPILOGUE

  THOUGH A LETTER WAS dispatched shortly after their wedding, they didn’t hear from Olivia’s parents for some time. And when they did, it was a note from her father, further affirmation that their elopement had been the correct choice.

  Shortly after it was known that they had eloped, her mother had flown into a blind rage and, in a fit of pique, had disclosed her intentions of reserving Langley’s affections for her own use. When her father had tried to reason with her, she had fled and, as fate had it, tripped on the top stair and tumbled to the afterlife.

  Her father’s letter held a tone of deep remorse but also one of rest. As if some unknown battle was finally over. Olivia understood the sentiment. While she wasn’t aware of her mother’s involvement with Marybelle or even her pl
ans regarding herself — until much later — there had always been an undercurrent. And as they say, hindsight is always clearer. She now fully understood the sentiment.

  And while Olivia had blamed Marybelle for so many things, it was now clear that it had been her mother who had pulled so many strings, so many manipulations that had led to one horrible ending.

  Her own.

  “Are you upset, my love?” Edward asked tenderly as he came up behind her, swiped a loose curl from its place on her nape, and proceeded to place a gentle kiss to her neck.

  “It pains me to know that her deception led to so many others’ pain,” Olivia answered, her heart aching yet free.

  “Indeed. Do you wish to see your father?” he asked kindly.

  Olivia turned to face him, soaking in the tender regard so clear in his eyes. “Perhaps we can invite him here?”

  “I believe that is a brilliant idea. I’ll be sure to dispatch an invitation directly… that is, of course, after I attend to more pressing matters.” His gaze darkened, and he slowly lowered his head till he was a breath away from her lips. “Unless you object.” His warm breath tickled, teasing her senses and driving her wild.

  “You’ll hear no objection from me in that respect, sir,” she replied just before she closed the distance to sear her love upon her husband’s mouth.

  “I rather thought you’d agree.” He chuckled between hungry kisses.

  “On this, my love, we shall always agree,” she said, just before tugging on the silk of his cravat and tossing the scarf to the floor.

  “I cannot think of anything more delightful.” Edward growled the words as he swept up Olivia in his arms and hungrily kissed her neck. Without delay, he left the confines of his study and bounded up the stairs to the music of his wife’s delighted laughter.