She put the book aside. It had been like that for days, a listless wandering of her thoughts, a lack of desire to even rise from her bed most mornings. Food seemed to lack taste, and the world seemed grayer than it used to be. Life itself had become pale. She knew she suffered from a broken heart. It hurt enough that it might kill her, and yes, she knew that sounded terribly dramatic, like something from one of her Gothic novels, but it was true. Frighteningly true.
“Livvy, dear?” Her mother’s voice disturbed her from the dark gloom of her thoughts.
“Yes?”
“I’ve had a new gown made for you. I would love to see how it fits.”
It sounded like a dreadful way to spend her time, but what else was she to do? She joined her mother upstairs in her bedroom. A large white box sat on the bed, and upstairs maid Sally was waiting to assist.
Her mother nodded at the box. “Well, go on and have a look.”
“Mama, I don’t need a new gown. I have plenty from—” She didn’t finish. She noticed her mother’s threadbare purple gown and wished her mother had bought herself a gown instead.
“Please, Livvy.” Her mother sounded oddly desperate.
She sighed and opened the box. Inside was a stunning rose-colored gown of expensive watered silk. It was too fine for a day gown, it looked more suited for an evening gown, but the décolletage was higher. She pulled the gown from the box and held it up, spinning a little in front of the mirror, fascinated and a little confused. How could she afford this? She caught sight of her mother’s watery smile in the mirror.
“Mama, what’s the matter?”
Her mother wiped tears from her cheeks. “I am just picturing how lovely you will be in it. Please, put it on.” She motioned for the maid to help Livvy change.
Once Livvy was finally dressed, her mother took her gently by the elbow.
“Your father and I would like you to meet someone.” Livvy’s stomach knotted with nerves as she followed her mother downstairs. Her father wore his best black coat, holding up her new cloak.
“Papa, who are we meeting?” she asked. Her parents were acting far too strangely. It was creating a ball of tension inside her.
“Someone I hope you will be happy to see,” he said. He kissed her forehead, and the three of them climbed into a hired hackney outside. Livvy studied her parents apprehensively, trying not to think of who she would be happy to see. Please let it not be some suitor Mama met over tea.
There was only one man who would make her happy, and she was too afraid to hope it would be him.
Martin.
Her heart gave a jolt with hope, but it couldn’t be. He had let her go. Now more than ever, she felt a kinship with Lady Leticia from her favorite Gothic novel. She’d been cast out by the duke and sent home for her own safety, and the duke had whispered in her ear, “My time in the sun has ended, and now I must face the winter of my life without you.” Lady Leticia had of course returned and rescued the duke from his treacherous younger brother, and the danger had passed. It would not be the same for Livvy, and she knew that. There was no happy ending waiting for her. The coach stopped, and Livvy peered out through the windows, shivering as a slight chill seeped through the window of the coach. They had arrived at St. George’s Church.
“Papa?” She looked to her father, but he was smiling, expressing a blend of joy and melancholy. He got out of the coach and then helped her and her mother out. Together they walked up the steps to the church. Her father ushered her mother inside, but he and Livvy remained on the steps a moment longer.
“Papa, what is happening?” Livvy demanded, her heart racing wildly.
He brushed his knuckles down her cheek the way he used to do when she was a little girl.
“You gave yourself to save our family, Livvy. That was…” His voice roughened. “That was once my job. But I failed you, my darling child, in more ways than you know. But now I can make it right.”
“There’s nothing to make right.”
“There is everything to make right. You deserve the life I’ve always dreamed to give you. And now I can.”
He moved toward the heavy wooden doors of the church and opened them, then offered her his arm. Livvy struggled to breathe as she entered St. George’s, her eyes darting over the beautiful interior of the church. It was empty and quiet except for her mother and three men who stood at the front by the altar. A clergyman, a dark-haired man with a gentle smile, and one other man with golden hair that was illuminated by the morning sunlight like the halo of a fallen angel. Her angel.
“Martin!” she gasped. Those blue eyes she’d once thought were so cold now shone like the surface of a summer lake reflecting the bluest sky. She looked to her father, and he was wiping at his face, brushing away his tears.
“Yes,” her father said with a chuckle. “His friend, Mr. Bennett, agreed to be an extra witness.”
“But he didn’t come back for me,” she whispered, her heart so fragile and so full of hope. She feared to believe what she was seeing.
“He wanted to more than anything, but he had to make things perfect for you before he did.” Her father gestured to her new dress. “He’s done so much for us, all of us, Livvy. As long as you love him, I will do whatever I can to win back his trust and respect.”
Livvy bit her lip hard enough that she almost drew blood.
“I do love him.” So much it hurts.
Her father chuckled. “Then let’s make a husband out of the boy.”
When she reached Martin, his eyes searched hers, worry lines creasing his eyes and mouth.
“This doesn’t have to happen if you don’t want to,” he said quietly.
“Do you love me?” she asked. That was the only thing that mattered to her.
“Yes. More than is wise, more than any man should love anything or anyone. I love you to distraction, I love you to—” She flung herself at him, kissing him, her heart ready to burst. Only when the clergyman cleared his throat did she remember that she was in the church and her actions were highly inappropriate. But from the smile on the clergyman’s face, he did not mind too much.
She beamed up at Martin, and the soft sweet fire in his eyes promised her a lifetime of moments like this. He lowered his head to hers and pressed their foreheads together. She felt in that moment they were the only two people existing in the world. It was true. He wanted her for now and forever. The world seemed to come back to life around her. Color and joy found its place again.
“You know,” Martin began with a low chuckle, “I think I finally know what to call you.”
“Oh?” She tilted her head, studying him.
“Not mistress, not lover, not companion…I was thinking…wife.”
“Is that your way of proposing? It’s a bit late—I’m already here,” she teased, trying not to laugh.
“Then I’d say it was successful, as long as you agree, wife?” he asked, his lips curving into a grin that was full of mischief.
“I suppose I could live with that.” She winked at him.
“Hellion,” he said teasingly.
“Your hellion,” she replied. Together they faced the clergyman, side by side.
Some futures could be broken over the turn of cards, while others won by those very same wagers. Livvy had bet her heart on loving Martin—and she had won.
The Gentleman's Seduction
Lauren Smith
Epilogue
Christmas at the Fairfax house was magic. Martin could not deny it. He had spent so many years avoiding the cheer of the yuletide season but that was impossible now. He watched Livvy chase his nephew across the snow covered grass, throwing snowballs at one another. He laughed when she slid and fell on her bottom in the snow and Jeremy pounced on her. They both rolled, laughing in delight.
“She’s wonderful, Martin. Just as you said.” Helen spoke from beside him. She held her daughter in her arms and the toddler was playing with a lock of Helen’s blonde hair.
“I didn’t ever think…�
� His throat constricted. “That I would be able to forgive what happened to our parents, what happened to us.”
Helen smiled and waved a hand to him. “Let me show you something.” She took him to a small patch of frozen bushes by the window the library. A single rosebush it somehow withstood the winter, possibly because the afternoon sun reflected off the windows heated the air around the glass.
“You see that?” Helen pointed to the bush where blue roses grew. He’d never seen blue roses before.
“Do you remember what our mother used to tell us? About the legend of the blue rose?”
He smiled and nodded. “She said it can only grow when two enemies fell in love.”
Helen shifted her daughter in her arms and smile as she saw Gareth join in with Livvy and Jeremy to play in the snow.
“We both married people we thought we could not and yet….those marriages have been the greatest gift of all.”
Martin had to agree. The moment Livvy had said yes in St. George’s, his life had transformed into an eternal spring. As long as he had her, there would always be blue roses blooming, even in winter.
Livvy finally abandoned her snowy games and rushed over to him. Her youthful exuberance reminded him he was not as old as he felt once. He could be young with her, recapture that magic in every laugh, every smile, every kiss. He caught her by the waist, holding her close. She smelled of the wintry woods and flowers, an enticing blend.
“Are you happy?” he whispered against her lips. His heart quickened his as she smiled up at him. She brought warmth to his heart, like a blazing fire in the deepest winter. He wasn’t a man of poetry or romance so he told her with his lips with his words could not.
“I don’t think there’s a single word that could fully express my happiness. The emotion is far too big.” A glint of a tear shown her hazel eyes and in that moment he knew he was truly and completely devoted to her. Everything good, everything noble and pure in this world started in the curve of her lips and continued in the shine of her eyes as she looked at him with tenderness. He had not forgotten how he felt that first moment when he beheld her, and now he felt no different. She made him breathless, delighted, surprised and full of joy. Livvy was every dream he’d been too afraid to hope for.
“And you?” she asked. “Are you happy?”
He placed one of her gloved hands to his chest just above his heart and he managed a nod. He was too full of emotion to speak. She seemed to understand and stood up on her tiptoes. The breeze tugged playfully on her dark curls and he twirled a lock around his fingers just before their lips met. The kiss was barely a whisper at first, a quiet promise of the years of passion ahead of them. But it turned harder, burning like the sun on his face after a long cloudless day.
“There are no words… But there are kisses,” he vowed. Kisses to build the rest of their lives upon and to entwine their hearts like the stems of blue roses, blooming against all odds.
The Gentleman's Seduction
Lauren Smith
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Rogues to Lovers: Legend of the Blue Rose Page 70
