Dashing Rogues: A Historical Romance Collection

by Dawn Brower, Amanda Mariel

NOTHING HELPED. No matter what Sarah tried, she could not get Lord Luvington or the kiss they shared off her mind. She ran her fingertips across her tingling lips and sighed.

  “Is something weighing on you? You seem a might distracted?”

  She turned to face Father. “Nothing overmuch, just lost in thought is all.” How had she not heard the door open?

  Papa placed his hands behind his back, studying her. “Your mother told me you asked for a few moments alone before I came to escort you. If you have changed your mind, I will go make the announcement. You need not go through with the ceremony.”

  Her eyes widened. “I would not dare beg off. I was merely reflecting on the past few days, Papa.” She grinned, taking his hand. “I assure you, I am more than ready to wed Lord Luvington.”

  “It seems like only yesterday when you twirled through the house hugging your favorite dolly and reciting nursery rhymes. Now you stand before me a bride draped in organdy and lace. You are stunning in your mother’s gown.” Moisture clouded his eyes.

  Sarah grinned. “I love you, Papa.” She lifted herself up on tiptoes and pressed her lips to his cheek. “I will always be your little girl.”

  “And I will always adore you. Come now, your bridegroom waits.”

  “Indeed.” Ready to embrace her future, she let Papa lead her from the room.

  SARAH WALKED up the aisle on Papa’s arm. She allowed a cursory glance around the church. Plumes of greenery and white flowers transformed it into an indoor garden. It smelled of fresh roses and cut ferns. White organdy draped the pews, floral bunches pinned to the ends. She inhaled then let her breath out slow.

  Grace and Lady Jane stood off to one side of the altar. Both wore white gowns, had veils draping down their back, the cloth secured atop their curls and plaits with coronets of white roses, and held additional flowers in their hands. Her brother and Lord Keery stood off to the opposite side of the altar, hands clasped in front of their gray dress jackets. Guests filled the pews from the back to the front row where the Duke and Duchess Tisdale sat.

  White rose petals covered the red carpet beneath her slippers. Her gaze locked with Lord Luvington’s. His wink sent heat flooding into her cheeks. Always such a rogue, and all hers from this day forward. She must be the luckiest lady in London.

  Papa brought Sarah to Lord Luvington’s left side and kissed her cheek, before he stepped back.

  “Please remove your left gloves.” The clergyman nodded to Sarah and Lord Luvington.

  She peeled her white glove from her hand and gave it to Grace for safe keeping.

  “Dearly beloved, we are here to witness the union of Lord Julian Carrington, Marquess of Luvington, to Lady Sarah Roseington, daughter of the Marquess and Marchioness of Havenshire.” The clergyman glanced at the leather-bound Bible in his hands. “If anyone present knows why this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now.”

  Sarah nibbled her bottom lip as she listened to the minister’s words. He read a passage about faithfulness and said a blessing over her and her future husband. The words passed right through her, crowded out by her thoughts and the bliss filling her heart.

  “Lord Luvington, pray answer these questions before God and kin.”

  Sarah focused all of her attention on him. He appeared so regal in his long coat and silk cravat, with a rose pinned to his lapel. His green eyes sparkled as he held her gaze. She offered a shaky smile.

  “Lord Luvington, have you in the quiet hours of your companionship considered what is your Christian duty as a husband?”

  “I have.”

  The clergyman angled his head toward Sarah. “Lady Sarah have you in the quiet hours of your companionship considered what is your Christian duty as a wife?”

  “I have.” Her pulse sped up.

  “Please join your right hands together.”

  She slipped her hand into the palm of Lord Luvington’s outstretched one. He gave a gentle squeeze and moisture clouded her eyes. The heat of his hand wrapped around hers sent excitement coursing through her. Tonight, she would lay with him, bare to him. Her insides tingled.

  “Lord Luvington, this woman before you is to be your wife. She has given you one of the most sacred things under heaven, a woman’s life, and a woman’s love.”

  He smiled with mirth and his hand tightened on hers.

  “You may bring her great joy or cause her deep sorrow. It is not what you bring her in a material way that will make true happiness--riches without love are nothing. The gift without the giver is bare.”

  Sarah’s chest tightened. Nothing. Without love, there is nothing. Do not let it be so. She loved him, but could it be enough for both of them? It had to be. For she would never be happy without him.

  “Lord Julian Carrington, Marquess of Luvington, do you vow here, as you have promised, that you will be true and loyal, patient in sickness, comforting in sorrow, forsaking all others, keeping yourself only unto her so long as you both shall live?” The clergyman read.

  Lord Luvington swallowed, gaze never leaving hers. “Indeed, I do.”

  Her heart soared at his words. He vowed before God, their family and friends to keep and care for her. Perchance love would follow.

  She stared into his eyes as the clergyman spoke the same set of vows to her. Lord Luvington rubbed his thumb in small circles over the back of her hand. Everyone else in the church faded away as she focused on him and the vow she took.

  “Lady Sarah Roseington, do you vow here, as you have promised, that you will be loyal in adversity, ministering to him in affliction, comforting him in sorrow, and forsaking all others, keeping yourself only unto him so long as you both shall live?”

  “I do.” She beamed.

  “Lord Luvington, place your ring upon Lady Sarah’s left ring finger.”

  Lord Keery handed Lord Luvington the polished gold band, and her fiancée took her hand again. “Let this ring bind us together for the rest of our days.” He slipped it onto her finger.

  When the clergyman instructed, she turned and took the gold band Grace held out to her. Lady Jane offered a grin before Sarah turned back to her soon to be husband. He held his left hand out in front of her. Nibbling her lip, she pushed the ring into place. “Accept this token of my affection and loyalty.”

  Lord Luvington took hold of her hands, a rakish smirk made her heart patter.

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The clergyman closed his Bible. “Please turn to the congregation.”

  Lord Luvington faced the congregation and offered his arm. Sarah curled her hand around his bicep.

  “It is my great honor to introduce to you Lord and Lady Luvington, the Marquess and Marchioness of Luvington.”

  The words wrapped around her as he guided her from the church. She was now Lord Luvington…no, Julian’s wife, his marchioness. Lady Sarah Carrington, Marchioness Luvington. Her head swam.

  The church bells rang out as her husband guided her through the door and a shower of rice to the waiting carriage.

  “My pet.” Julian held out his hand to assist her into their grand carriage pulled by four white horses.

  Sarah grinned as she settled herself against the plush green fabric of the bench seat. Julian climbed in and settled beside her. As the carriage jolted forward, Sarah angled her head toward him and met his gaze.

  “Come here, wife.” Julian wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. “The ride is short and I intend to make the best of it.” His lips came down on hers.

  The kiss started slow, teasing. Sarah parted her lips slightly as his tongue ran along them, then delved deeper, seeking. Warmth spread through her as she met his demand. Jolts of pleasure shot through her, from her lips clean through to her toes.

  SARAH STOOD next to her husband and welcomed their guests, she with a curtsy and he with a bow. Her parents were the first to offer well wishes before taking their place to her left. Grace and Lady Jane followed and stood off to the side. Ladies in bonnets and gowns f
iled past with gentlemen in top hats and dress coats. Each curtsied or bowed, then offered well wishes and congratulated Julian.

  She watched as Lord Keery approached at the end of the line. A flutter went through her abdomen. She wished to meet the man but nerves prickled her skin at the same time. As she understood it, Lord Keery and Julian were old boyhood friends going back as far as Eaton. She hoped Lord Keery approved of their match and would willingly accept her as Julian’s wife.

  “Congratulations and best of luck to you, old friend.” Lord Keery clapped his hand on Julian’s shoulder.

  “Thank you. Allow me to introduce you to Lady Luvington.” Julian turned to her. “May I present to you my oldest, truest friend, Lord Keery.”

  Sarah grinned. The opportunity for introductions had not arisen before, despite Lord Keery being in the wedding. She had been so busy leading up to the ceremony, and it would have been in poor manners for her to meet him directly after. She prayed he would not hold it against her. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Keery.”

  “Likewise, Lady Luvington. I imagine we will get to know one another rather well.”

  Her nervous flutters dissipated. It seemed she would get on well with him.

  “Move along now, Keery, the lady is spoken for.” Julian chuckled as he held out his arm.

  Sarah took it, laughing.

  “Very well.” Lord Keery joined in their merriment before moving off into the room.

  Julian led Sarah through the parlor to the table set up for the wedding party. Mother decorated the room in much the same fashion as the church. Sprays of white roses, daisies, and other blooms were scattered about. Sashes of white organdy, lace, and flowers rested above the arched doorways and crisp greenery sat about in ornate pots.

  Sarah sat in the chair Julian offered her before seating himself on her left side. Their parents were already seated. The remainder of their wedding party joined them filling the empty seats around the table.

  “Now that everyone is here, let us toast the groom.” The Duke of Tisdale lifted his sparkling champagne flute into the air.

  “Let us not forget the bride.” Grace winked at Sarah as she lifted her flute.

  “Cheers,” The call rang out around the table, followed by the others filling the festive space. Sarah glanced about at all of the guests then looked at her husband. A shiver coursed through her.

  The time was nearly upon her. Would she find a reason to celebrate once they were alone?

  CHAPTER 17

  JULIAN DESCENDED from the carriage then reached in and lifted Sarah out. A pool of organdy and lace trailed behind him as he whisked her up to the townhouse they now shared. He gazed into her violet eyes. “Welcome home, my pet.”

  Sarah grinned up at him. The joy in his wife’s gaze made his chest swell with pride. Her innocence and vibrancy infected him, and a wide grin spread across his lips.

  When the door swung open, he carried her across the threshold, his eyes focused on the staircase that promised to take them to his room. He did not even spare a glance for his butler as he trailed past. Every fiber of his soul wished to lay her down and enjoy the favors she had to offer.

  He ascended the stairs two at a time as he raced to his room cradling her close to his chest the whole journey. Once inside, he used his hip to close the door and continued to his bed where he laid her upon the royal blue covering. Her veil and gown spread out across it, painting a heavenly image. One he would treasure for the rest of his days.

  She peeked up at him through lowered lashes while nibbling at her lower lip. The woman was a temptress though he would bet she did not know it. His loins tightened as he studied her. Full pink lips beckoned him to join her, while the curves of her body begged him to undress them. He inhaled, fighting the urge to rip both of their garments off.

  “Is something the matter? Have I displeased you?” She propped herself up on her elbows.

  “You could never displease me, wife.” He joined her in their four post mahogany bed, positioning himself next to her and laying one arm around her waist.

  She went rigid at his touch. Her eyes closed for a moment as she swallowed.

  “Do not fear me, my pet. I will not hurt you if it can be helped.” He knew it could not be entirely avoided but meant to make their first time as comfortable for her as possible. Even if it killed him, he would go slowly with her.

  He took her lips tenderly and stroked her back. When she opened to him, he deepened the kiss. Her body softened against his as he trailed kisses across her cheek, and along her jaw, before pulling his gaze back to hers.

  “You are quite the most alluring woman in London.” He sat up then offered her his hand. “Let us remove your gown, Lady Luvington.”

  She stood and turned her back to him. “May I retain my shift for now?”

  The innocence of her question tugged at his heart. “If it pleases you to do so.” He unfastened the tiny buttons running down the back of her wedding gown before he allowed it to slide down her body. He angled his head and nuzzled his face against her neck before sprinkling kisses across her pale flesh.

  A small sigh left her lips causing him to pull away and grinned. “Do my ministrations please you, darling?” He reached for her stays, working to free her from her remaining garments.

  “It seems they do.”

  With her stripped down to her sheer white shift, Julian moved to stand before her. She was a goddess with her blond curls and violet eyes, a small grin playing at her lips. He lifted her hands to his chest and rested them against him before leaning in to take her lips once more.

  She ran her hands over his chest searing his skin through the fabric of his garments. Hesitating at a button, she began to play with it. He walked her back toward the bed, his lips never leaving hers.

  Sarah broke the kiss and lowered herself onto the mattress. She fumbled his waistcoat open. He shrugged it off and ran his hand through those soft, blond tresses.

  His gaze never left her face as he removed his clothing. The blush that crept across his wife’s chest and face warmed his heart. She never glanced away, just stared at him with those magnificent eyes. He grinned.

  “Do you find me pleasing?” He glanced down at himself before returning his attention to her.

  She trailed her gaze down his body, freezing when she spied his hard shaft. Her hand moved to her chest, and her gaze darted back to his. “It is nothing like I imagined the male form to be. I do not understand how our coupling will work.”

  He got into the bed, placing one leg on each side of hers, holding himself above her with his arms. “Let me teach you, darling.” He ran his mouth along her neck, sucking and kissing the delicate porcelain skin until she writhed beneath him.

  Ah, yes, he would see the minx in her yet. She tilted her head back, inviting his exploration as he trailed kisses across her collarbone. He pushed the material of her shift down with his chin, working his way lower.

  A small, shaky sound left her. She reached for him and urged him back to her lips. When he crushed her mouth with his, she kissed him like no woman ever had.

  Everything in him coiled with need. He grabbed her shift and pulled it up her thighs, caressing the silky skin of her hip. She trailed her hands across his back, sending jolts of pleasure through him. With one thigh, he urged her legs apart and slid his hand between them.

  He found her slick and fought the urge to plunge into her dampness. No, he cared too much for her to treat her in such a way. Her rosy nipples poked up beneath the sheer shift begging him to pay mind to them. He slid the material down her trim body, kissing her from neck to toes along the way. Finally casting it aside, he returned his gaze to her.

  Laid out before him in nothing more than her tiara and veil, she was a vision of perfection. The sash of organdy trimmed with lace draped the bed next to her. She reached up and rested her warm hand on his cheek. A soft grin dimpled her cheeks. So sweet and all his.

  She wriggled beneath him as he slipped
one finger into her opening, stretching her passage. A moan shook from her, and she began to rock against his hand. The diamonds in the tiara he gifted her sparkled in the lamplight as she tossed her head back in a wonton display of passion.

  “Are you ready, darling?” He nuzzled the base of her neck, settling between her legs. Desire heated him as he brushed his shaft against her entrance.

  She pulled him closer, her nipples brushing his chest, hard as beads. “Yes.” Her husky voice wrapped around his heart as she tipped her hips toward him.

  He kissed her long and hard. When she clutched at his back, he pressed his lips to her ear. “Forgive me if this hurts.” He eased into her a little at a time.

  The heat of her palms seared his back while she angled her hips, bringing him deeper. When she tensed, he stilled.

  “Kiss me, my pet.” When their lips connected, he pushed farther, swallowing her cry. He lifted his head to gaze down at her and stroked her swollen lips with the pad of his thumb. “I promise it shall never pain you again.”

  He moved within her a little at a time, waiting for her body to acclimate to his. The love and acceptance in her eyes sent his heart hammering as much as the heat of her around his length.

  He kept his pace unhurried, allowing her fire to build. Lowering his head to one breast, he pulled a rosy nipple into his mouth, teasing and sucking it. A moan erupted from her, and she rocked her hips beneath him. Her inner muscles constricted around his shaft, threatening to send him over the edge.

  Sweat glistened on her pale skin as he kissed his way back to her lips. The sweet sounds she made intensified his need. He thrust faster, and she moaned, wrapping her legs around his hips.

  “Sarah…” He rumbled into her ear, and she thrust up. They went over the edge as one. His hot seed spilled into her on a final thrust. Her cry echoed in the room.

  He rolled off her and pulled her to his side with a sigh. No man could possibly have more perfect a wife then he. She laid her head on his chest while trailing her finger in small circles over his skin. Never could he have imagined a joining so intense, so perfect. Surely their souls had fused. No doubt remained, he was a lucky man.