The Love of a Libertine

by Jess Michaels

  The shouting, though, had brought the others. Robert appeared first in the door to the narrow chamber and his mouth dropped open. “Christ, Morgan,” he muttered as he edged his way in. Katherine and Amelia followed, while the Duke and Duchess of Donburrow stayed in the doorway, exchanging a look that said a million words.

  “Oh God,” Lizzie moaned, and reached up behind her, trying to button her gown. She kept missing the buttonhole, her hands were shaking so much, and at last Morgan stepped forward and fastened it quickly.

  “Take your damned hands off of her,” Brighthollow growled as he held out a hand to her. “Lizzie, come here.”

  There was a moment when Morgan thought Elizabeth might obey. This man had raised her, after all. He loved her. She loved and adored him in return and never wanted to disappoint him.

  But then she straightened her spine, pushed her shoulders back and shook her head. “No.”

  Brighthollow blinked at her. “No? Lizzie, you must be in jest. I know today was trying. The past few days have been difficult, and it is easy to be confused—”

  “I’m not confused,” Lizzie whispered. “I know what I want. And who.” She looked back over her shoulder and her eyes found his. “I know exactly who I want.”

  Morgan’s heart leapt in that moment. Because he hadn’t imagined these feelings. She did share them. This wasn’t mere passion gone mad or a mistake she would regret. She cared for him, as he cared for her.

  Only he still feared if this was the right choice. Love could fade over time, after all. Leaving regret in its wake. He’d seen it before. He didn’t want to cause it or feel the sting of it.

  He had to be sure she was sure.

  “Elizabeth,” he said, taking her hand. “That you…want this, want me, means everything. But your brother’s concerns are valid, you must know that in your heart. He wants to protect you.”

  “Protect me from you?” she said.

  “Yes,” Brighthollow said through clenched teeth. “You must see why I’d be concerned. Banfield’s history, his reputation—”

  “Watch yourself,” Robert growled.

  The two men were distracted by each other, and the others in the room all began talking at once as they faced each other.

  But Morgan ignored them. Their interference actually gave him the privacy he’d been seeking, at least for a moment. “He’s not wrong. I am not worthy, Elizabeth,” he insisted. “I just fought a bloody duel, for God’s sake, over my wicked behavior.”

  “I know! I watched you,” she cried out.

  Everyone in the room stopped, and suddenly all the eyes shifted back to Elizabeth. Morgan saw the discomfort that caused her—he knew how she hated it. But she lifted her chin, her lower lip trembling with indignant anger and passion.

  “What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice barely carrying.

  She folded her arms. “I followed you,” she whispered. “We all did.”

  “Amelia,” Brighthollow said with a shake of his head as he glared at his wife.

  The Duchess of Brighthollow arched a brow. “Don’t Amelia me, my love. I wasn’t about to let you all go dueling like children fighting over a toy and not keep an eye on you. Now hush. Lizzie has something to say and you will listen.”

  Brighthollow huffed out a breath, but to Morgan’s surprise, he didn’t interrupt again.

  Lizzie was shaking from head to toe, her gaze never leaving Morgan’s. “I stood on a hill and watched you, knowing that if you were wrong about your friend, that I would never get to tell you that I…I love you.”

  A ripple moved through the room and Morgan felt it zip up his spine. Love. Loved him.

  “And when it turned out you were all right, that you would live…” She caught her breath on a shaky gasp. “I knew that I couldn’t let another day, another hour, another moment go by without telling you how I felt. I wanted to do it privately, but now I have to do it in front of my friends and my family while you and my brother argue over how little you are worth compared to me.”

  “It’s not an argument,” Morgan said, casting a quick glance toward Brighthollow. “You are worth far more than I am.”

  “That is bollocks!” she all but shouted, clenching her fists at her sides. When the room gasped in surprise at her language, she glared around at them. “It is. I am not a princess in a tower.”

  “You should be protected like a princess,” Brighthollow said, but he no longer sounded so certain. “Taken care of and—”

  “Can you not see how you diminish me, both of you, by seeing me this way?” she asked.

  Morgan drew back, shaking his head. “Diminish?”

  “Yes.” She bent her head and her breath exhaled shakily. “I am not a princess. I am not an icon. I am not a delicate flower. I am a woman, with a woman’s heart. No different than Charlotte or Katherine or Amelia. I have desires.”

  Brighthollow turned his face, his cheeks red, but he didn’t interrupt her again. Morgan didn’t either. No matter what he wanted to say, how he wanted to react, he folded his arms and forced himself not to.

  She was owed it.

  “I have made mistakes,” she continued. “Everyone knows what they were. I own those mistakes. They were never anyone else’s. And I have walked a road that led me here. I say again that I know what I want: you, Morgan Banfield. I want…” Her face brightened, as if saying these things had freed her. “I want you.”

  Lizzie felt a weight come off her chest even though nothing had been resolved. Even though she had to share this moment with a roomful of people, including her angry brother who still looked as though he could kill.

  Even though Morgan was just standing there, staring at her, as if he had been caught in a trap and now had no idea how to escape or what to do.

  “Please say something,” she said softly.

  Before he could, Hugh stepped forward. “Lizzie, emotions are running high. And you and Mr. Banfield have become close thanks to the garden. I can see how you might mistake your feelings.”

  “My feelings are not mistaken,” she said with a glare for him. “I’m not a child, Hugh. Not anymore. This isn’t like the last time.”

  “It feels the same,” Hugh retorted.

  That brought Roseford forward, his hands gripped at his sides. “I would request you do not compare my brother to a man who used your sister ill and then nearly killed your wife.”

  Hugh glared at Roseford, and it looked for a moment that they, too, might come to blows. But before they could, the Duke of Donburrow stepped into the room and put a hand on each man’s chest. He shook his head slowly, sliding his glance back and forth.

  “Well said, my dear,” Charlotte said as she entered the room. “Forgive me, but you two are being idiots.”

  “I agree,” Katherine chimed in. “This is between Lizzie and Morgan. It doesn’t involve any of us.”

  “Doesn’t involve us?” Hugh sputtered. “She is my sister and this is—”

  “The man she loves,” Amelia interrupted with a quick, kind and supportive glance toward Lizzie. She took Hugh’s hand. “I know you’re protective. I love that you are. But in this, you are being heavy-handed.”

  “I…am not,” Hugh muttered, but he no longer sounded so certain. Lizzie saw her opening.

  She swallowed hard. “You are,” she whispered. “With Morgan I am…I am happy. I’m free. I’m not afraid. When he enters a room, there’s…sunshine for me. I would hope that is what you’d want for me. Nothing less than the feelings you’ve found for yourself.”

  “Of course,” Hugh admitted. He glared at Morgan again. “But what does he think? He has not declared his feelings, despite you spilling out your own in this public manner.”

  “Public because you made it so,” Morgan said softly.

  Hugh’s jaw set, but he didn’t retort.

  Lizzie turned toward Morgan. “Then pretend it is just you and me. Like it should be. I have told you I love you, Morgan. If you don’t love me in return, then please just
tell me quickly. I can’t…” She dropped her chin. “I can suffer the truth, but not this uncertainty.”

  Morgan slid a finger beneath her chin and lifted her gaze to his again. “I’ve spent a lifetime pretending so that I didn’t have to feel what was in my heart. Whether that was fear or sorrow or love, I didn’t want any of it. It was dangerous. But since I met you, Elizabeth, I can’t pretend anymore. You strip away my masks, you challenge me to be brave without them. You make me want to be better.”

  Her breath caught as he stepped closer. He didn’t seem to care that they were surrounded, that her watchful brother still stood close enough that he might punch Morgan in the face for making the wrong move.

  “I do love you, Elizabeth. And I still fear I don’t deserve the beautiful heart you have offered, but I can’t deny that it’s all I want. All I need. That I would sacrifice all I am and all I ever could be in order to never walk away from you again.”

  Her knees shook at his admission, finally made. It felt like it was just the two of them. And she smiled up at him as the world felt like it got warmer and happier and easier because he was with her.

  She lifted on her tiptoes and then she kissed him. And it was only when she heard Charlotte behind them say, “Brava, Lizzie” that she even recalled anyone else was there.

  She blushed as she caught Morgan’s hand in both of hers and then turned back. They stood together, two against the world if need be, and she looked at Hugh. He was staring at them, his expression unreadable.

  “Please don’t make me choose between my brother and my heart,” she whispered. “If you send him away, I will follow, no matter what happens next.”

  Ewan signed a few things, and Charlotte smiled. “He says that if Hugh cannot abide your decision, he would hire Morgan for his own man of affairs and settle you both with a lovely home on our estate.”

  Lizzie nodded in thanks at the kindness, but she didn’t want that. She wanted her brother to accept this. And when Hugh let out his breath in a long sigh, it was as if the world came to half time as she waited.

  “You cannot steal my man of affairs, Donburrow,” he said at last. “So you should not try.”

  She smiled as Hugh smiled, relief pulsing through her. He stepped forward and kissed her forehead. Then he shook Morgan’s hand.

  “You’ll endeavor to deserve her,” Hugh said softly, a statement not a question.

  Morgan nodded. “Every day if she’ll allow it. And I realize that everyone wants to hug us and congratulate us and celebrate this outrageous and wonderful day. But I have not yet gotten to ask the lady a question. And I think it must be asked in private.” Lizzie lifted her face to his, tears filling her happy eyes. He smiled back at her. “May I take you to the garden?”

  She nodded, not waiting for anyone else to answer. He took her hand and led her through the crowd of their friends, their family and down the long hallway to the stairs.

  Lizzie heard Amelia say to Hugh, “Come, you’ll help me tell the servants to prepare a breakfast to celebrate that he didn’t die, and for their engagement. And you’ll stop frowning, because you know you’re happy if she is happy.”

  She didn’t have to hear the rest, all that mattered was the man at her side as he took her through the house and out to the terrace. They followed the path they’d taken a hundred times since his arrival, weaving through this beautiful sanctuary they had created together, and at last they came to the corner where they’d first met to discuss the garden what felt like a lifetime ago.

  Persephone stood in her place, her gaze knowing and flirtatious, and at last Lizzie understood it in a way she hadn’t ever before. Morgan led her to the bench there in front of the statue and took both her hands. She stared into his face, loving that it would be the face she looked into for the rest of her days. The face that would look upon their children, that would see her age, that would meet her eyes as they shared their twilight years.

  “I’m sorry that situation deteriorated so terribly,” Morgan said as he swept a lock of hair from her cheek.

  She smiled. “I don’t think it would be us if there weren’t some kind of chaos involved.”

  “I suppose not,” he said, but his tone was troubled. “I brought that into your life, I fear. The chaos.”

  “No, you didn’t,” she whispered. “I’ve felt uncertain and out of sorts and unclear about my life and my future for years. That was chaos. You were…a north star. You always will be.”

  He did chuckle then. “Funny, for I feel the same way about you. Elizabeth, today at the duel, all I could think about was how I might not see you again. And how I would regret that I told you I wanted you, that I showed you that. But that I was too cowardly to tell you that I love you.”

  He had said it before, but she loved hearing it again. Loved knowing that it was true, that he was true. And hers. Always hers now.

  “But you are here, and you have told me.”

  “I have. Your brother says he’ll allow me to stay on, probably because he doesn’t want to lose you. But I can’t promise it will be an easy life. I have very little to offer.”

  “Except your strength,” she said, touching his cheek. “And your faith in me that no one else has ever truly had. And your love.”

  “Those are all yours,” he promised. “If you take me as your husband, you will have them and anything else I can give to you to ensure your happiness for the rest of my days.”

  He dropped from the bench to one knee. She was weeping as he did so, though she didn’t recall the moment she had begun to cry. Happy tears. The happiest she had ever wept. He wiped them away before he took her hand.

  “Lady Elizabeth Margolis, will you do me the great honor of being my wife?”

  She cupped his cheeks, laughing and crying at once as she kissed him. “Yes,” she murmured against his mouth. “Yes, yes, yes, yes…”

  She continued to whisper that word as she kissed him. Continued to whisper it as she held him close to her. And she knew it would be what she said to him every day, every night, for the rest of her life.

  Epilogue

  A few weeks later

  The party to celebrate of the sudden elopement of Morgan and Elizabeth Banfield was held in London immediately upon the return of the entire family and their friends. Elizabeth had invited only her closest friends, as well as the dukes who had formed Morgan’s brother’s friend circle. He liked the men, despite his once jealous feelings toward them. They were a good lot.

  And they all adored his wife, those dukes and duchesses. Which made Morgan all the more disposed to appreciating them. He stood back from the crowd, watching as Elizabeth danced with the Duke of Kingsacre. She glanced at Morgan from time to time, blushing and smiling any time she caught his eye.

  And the love he felt for her swelled with each passing moment.

  “Dear God, you truly are smitten.”

  He turned to find his sister, Selina, coming toward him, a glass of wine perched in her hand. She stepped up and followed his gaze a moment. “Does she truly make you happy, my once-wild brother?”

  “She does,” he said without hesitation. “My wild days are over.”

  “Drat and damn,” Selina sighed. “I shall have to find trouble all by myself now.” She smiled at him. “Though I suppose it is worth it to see you smile like that. Many felicitations.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I like her,” Selina continued. “I was nervous she would be standoffish since I am only your half-blood. But she is very kind.”

  “She is,” he said. “No one has ever been kinder.”

  Selina made a face, but quickly smiled. “And have you taken her to meet Nicholas yet?”

  “No,” Morgan said with a slight frown. “I know he is still recovering or I would have invited him tonight. I’ll take her soon. I know she’d like him. They’re both of a studious bent.”

  His sister bussed his cheek as the song ended, and Elizabeth left the floor with her partner and then started Morgan’s wa
y. “We’ll talk soon. I can see you wish to be alone with your wife.”

  Morgan said thank you. Or he thought he did. It was hard to focus when his wife stopped in front of him and slipped her arm through his.

  “Your sister is very nice,” Elizabeth said as she squeezed his bicep. “I can’t wait to know her better.”

  “Yes. Very much.”

  She laughed. “Are you even attending? I wonder at that response to what I said.”

  “I’m not,” he admitted. “I’m standing here staring at my wife and wondering how long I must wait to take her upstairs and prove how much I love her.”

  Elizabeth’s expression shifted. The light of wanting entered her eyes. And then she glanced at the door. “We could creep away now.”

  He grinned at her ardor. He loved her for that and so much more. “Then lead the way, fair lady. For the rest of my life.”

  * * *

  THE END

  Author Note

  I hope you enjoyed the first book in The Duke’s Bastards series! If you want to know more about the dukes and duchesses featured in this story, check out their books in the 1797 Club series!

  And now, turn the page for an excerpt from the second in The Duke’s Bastards, The Heart of a Hellion (Selina’s book).

  The Duke’s Bastards

  Enjoy and Excerpt of Book 2, The Heart of a Hellion

  Excerpt of The Heart of a Hellion

  The Duke’s Bastards Book 2

  Derrick stood in the middle of the Duke of Roseford’s vast library, looking up around him at the beautiful bookcases that vaulted high into the room above his head. Hundreds of books, all waiting to be read.

  He’d always appreciated a library. When he was taken to visit his grandfather as a lad, he’d loved nothing more than to go to his library. First to escape, for there had always been yelling during those visits. But escape had turned to pleasure as he lost himself in stories and history and learning.