The Forsaken Love of a Lord (19 page)

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

T
HOUGH 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 plans 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.

“Tell me it will always be this way,” Olivia whispered against her husband’s neck, inhaling the cedar-and-spice scent that she would forever associate with his love.

“It will always be this way, my love. I’m incapable of loving you in any other fashion,” he vowed as he opened their chamber door and set her down gently. He wasted no time in kissing her once more, all the while backing her gently toward their bed.

“And I’m only able to love you the same,” Olivia whispered as the edge of the bed bumped softly against the back of her knees.

“Of course, I’ll never tire of showing you, just—“ He kissed her lips tenderly as she reclined, inviting his delightful weigh over her. “—how very much I adore—“ He spoke between kisses as he reached down and tugged at the sleeve of her day dress. “—every inch of you.”

Olivia gave herself over to the passionate love only found in her husband’s arms.

And after their love was spent for the moment, her last thought as she drifted to sleep in the arms of her lover was a thankful prayer for hope.

Because through it, love had redeemed what had once been utterly forsaken.

And there was nothing more precious than the
forsaken love of a lord
.

How to Silence a Rake

PROLOGUE

M
ISS
M
ARIA
G
ARTEN HAD
one more season till she was firmly on the shelf.

One. More.

It was her only chance, because, while some ladies could pretend or sincerely be at peace with the life of spinster…

She was not among their ranks.

Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself once more to think
before
she spoke. It shouldn’t be difficult.

Except that it was, for her at least.

“Good evening, Miss Maria.” Mr. Sheppard’s voice broke through her silent scolding.

“Ah, hello, Mr. Sheppard.” She turned and offered a smile to her friend.

“Lovely as always. So tell me again why some handsome gentleman hasn’t swept you off to married bliss?” he asked as he bent and kissed her hand.

“Ah… charm. You should save it for someone who will appreciate it,” Maria teased, though her heart pinched at his words.

“You wound me!” Mr. Sheppard shook his head, though a grin teased his full lips.

Maria glanced away.

Because the only thing more sure than her potential future as a spinster was that Mr. Shepphard was a confirmed bachelor.

A rake of the first order.

Not the kind that would ruin an innocent, but the kind that would charm one, seduce her with his charming words, and make her fall in love with the legendary smile and easy manner that seemed as easy as breathing.

And then he’d walk away to find a new distraction.

Utterly unaware that he had broken a few hearts in the process.

Maria refused to be counted among them.

She needed a husband,
not
a distraction.

After all, friendship was far less complicated.

Wasn’t it?

“Have you a partner for the next dance?” he asked, all charisma and magic.

“Yes, I do believe he just volunteered,” she teased and held out her hand as the first strains of a waltz began.

“Delightful! Have I mentioned how lovely you look tonight?” he asked as they walked onto the ball room, his eyes scanning the crowd — likely looking for his next
distraction
.

Maria chuckled. “Yes, actually you have. You must be slipping if you have already forgotten, or perhaps my beauty is so astounding this evening that you felt the need to mention it twice.”