Lady Be Good: Lord Love a Lady Series, Book 5 Page 29
“A special license.”
Rose broke into a grin.
He’d thought of everything…
Epilogue
London, Twenty–Two Days Later
“Sit still, Rose. Was I this difficult while you did my hair?” Penelope shoved one last pin into Rose’s simple coiffure, securing the wreath of flowers that had been delivered early that morning.
Rose stared at herself in the mirror, wishing they’d used the special license rather than succumb to Josephine’s persistence that they have a ton wedding.
Her future mother-in-law had insisted they must brazen their way through the scandal, just as Natalie had a few years before. They could not slink away and marry. They needed to face all of Society in London, at St George’s Cathedral, with all the pomp and circumstance one could imagine.
The day they became engaged, Josephine had taken Rose aside for a most sincere chat. She told Rose she would support her either way, but that it would be best for Rose, best for Rome, to overcome the scandal she’d run from in London.
Rather than marry Rose quietly at the chapel at Raven’s Park or whisk her away to Gretna Green, Rome had sent notices to all the papers and then requested banns be read for three consecutive weeks, as was required for a traditional ceremony.
At Rose’s request.
Josephine and Lady Sheffield had then hastily sent invitations to every sympathetic socialite with whom they were acquainted, which Rose now realized, was a virtual army.
The church would be full.
And Rose was going to have to face all of them in exactly one hour.
The door to Rose’s chamber opened and several familiar faces appeared: Lady Hawthorne, or Natalie, as her future sister-in-law insisted, Margaret, even two duchesses, Abigail, the Duchess of Monfort, and Lilly, the Duchess of Cortland. On this morning, they wore smiles of encouragement and support as they crowded into the chamber she’d been allotted by Penelope, in Danbury’s London townhouse.
“How is the bride?” Natalie was all smiles. “I remember how I felt, Rose, and my situation wasn’t so dissimilar to yours. My mother is always right about these things, though, so you mustn’t worry.”
“We just came from Burtis House and Lady Sheffield says everything is going according to plan,” the Duchess of Monfort offered.
“I daresay, Rome’s more nervous than you, Rose.” Natalie laughed. “I overheard Mr. Phillips complaining that he’s retied Rome’s cravat no less than twenty times. I hope my brother doesn’t chase him away. A skilled valet isn’t easy to come by and I daresay no one is missing Mr. Pierce.”
Although Rome hadn’t blamed Mr. Pierce for starting the rumor, when his valet expressed dismay at Rome’s choice of bride, he’d sent the man packing.
“Darlington asked us to bring you this. He said you might need it.” Margaret held out a small package, wrapped in pink tissue paper with a silk ribbon.
Rose felt the smile in her heart before it even reached her lips.
With surprisingly steady hands, she took the package and carefully untied the bow. Inside the paper was a small note.
My love,
May all your sins go unpunished, especially those that we embark upon together.
I anxiously await you at the altar.
Yours forever, Rome
And when she opened the box, she giggled. Three cubes of sugar.
“Shall we have some tea before heading for the church?”
Exactly one hour later, Rome stood beside the bishop at the front of the altar at St. George’s Cathedral, as hundreds of people rose to watch the bride make her way down the aisle.
Rome was not alone. Beside him stood all three of his brothers, as well as his son. At the forefront of the congregation, his father, his mother, his sister, her husband, and their small son, Brody. Behind them, more friendly faces than he ever would have imagined possible one month ago.
The organ played a chord that echoed through the hallowed chamber, and a vision of feminine beauty appeared at the opposite end of the aisle, holding her father’s arm in one hand and a bouquet of snapdragons in the other.
Her gown, a flowing confection made of periwinkle blue, cascaded from just beneath her bodice to the aisle runner that covered the floor. English Ivy and more of the festive flowers sat atop her hair, a crown of nature, giving her every appearance of a fairy princess.
The impossible was not so impossible after all.
As she made her way down the aisle, a hush of appreciation rippled through the congregation.
Soon, she would be his. His wife, his viscountess, his lady.
In her presence, Rome’s heart took flight. He’d thought she would appear nervous, fearful, even. Instead, the smile she sent him was enough to sweeten all of London.
When her father released her and stepped down to join his wife, this minx that he was marrying dropped something into his pocket.
He spoke his vow with conviction and pride, knowing only feelings of joy, love, and hope.
And when the bishop pronounced them man and wife, he could not help but to take hold of her face and kiss her fully on the mouth, in front of his family, his friends, and all those other guests who were members of the ton.
As they turned to stare at all the faces that had witnessed their marriage ceremony, Rome reached into his pocket. Just as he suspected, a smooth piece of candy.
This woman knew his mind, his needs, his very heart. He popped the sweet into his mouth and together they marched past a sea of approving smiles and out into the sunshine. Rose Waring Spencer, Viscountess Darlington, had proven to the world that she was good enough for Society, good enough to marry an aristocrat, but more importantly than that, she’d proven something to herself: whether a maid, a gentleman’s daughter, or a future countess, her goodness and strength would always set her apart.
When she turned to smile up at him, Rome marveled at his luck.
“May I?” he asked, unable to deny himself.
She leaned forward and the words she whispered in his ear had him raising his eyebrows.
Life had found a way of sending him the perfect woman. A woman who’d taught him the value of enjoyment and laughter. A woman he could rely upon when he himself felt week.
And in this moment, a woman who seemed quite intent upon embarrassing him.
“Be good, now, my lady, be good!”
She grinned up at him. “But I thought you wanted me to sin with you.”
He’d sin with her all right. Rome pressed his mouth to hers and slipped the candy past her lips. “Just sweetening you up, my love, just sweetening you up.”
It was only one of many such kisses they’d share as husband and wife.
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*** THE END ***
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Watch for
THE LADY AND THE RAKE
Margaret, Lady Asherton’s story!
Coming in March, 2020!
The Lord Love a Lady Series
Lord Love a Lady Series
Nobody’s Lady
(Lord Love a Lady, Book 1)
Dukes don’t need help, or do they?
Michael Redmond, the Duke of Cortland, needs to be in London—most expeditiously—but a band of highway robbers have thwarted his plans. Purse-pinched, coachless, and mired in mud, he stumbles on Lilly Beauchamp, the woman who betrayed him years ago.
Ladies can’t be heroes, or can they?
Michael was her first love, her first lover, but he abandoned her when she needed him most. She’d trusted him, and then he failed to meet with her father as promised. A widowed stepmother now, Lilly loves her country and will do her part for the Good of England—even if that means aiding this hobbled and pathetic duke.
They lost their chance at love, or did they?
A betrothal, a scandal, and a kidnapping stand between them now. Can honor emerge from the ashes of their love?
A Lady’s Prerogative
(Lord Love a Lady Series, Book 2)
It’s not fair. Titled rakes can practically get away with murder, but one tiny little misstep and a debutante is sent away to the country. Which is where Lady Natalie Spencer is stuck after jilting her betrothed.
Frustrated with her banishment, she’s finished being a good girl and ready to be a little naughty. Luckily she has brothers, one of whom has brought home his delightfully gorgeous friend.
After recently inheriting an earldom, Garrett Castleton is determined to turn over a new leaf and shed the roguish lifestyle he adopted years ago. His friend’s sister, no matter how enticing, is out-of-bounds. He has a run-down estate to manage and tenants to save from destitution.
Can love find a compromise between the two, or will their stubbornness get them into even more trouble?
A betrothal, a scandal, and a kidnapping stand between them now. Can honor emerge from the ashes of their love?
Lady Saves the Duke
(Lord Love a Lady Series, Book 3)
He thinks he’s saving her, but will this Lady Save the Duke, instead?
Miss Abigail Wright, disillusioned spinster, hides her secret pain behind encouraging smiles and optimistic laughter. Self-pity, she believes, is for the truly wretched. So when her mother insists she attend a house party—uninvited—she determines to simply make the best of it…until an unfortunate wardrobe malfunction.
Alex Cross, the “Duke of Ice,” has more than earned the nickname given him by the ton. He’s given up on happiness but will not reject sensual pleasure. After all, a man has needs. The week ought to have been pleasantly uneventful for both of them, with nature walks, parlor games, and afternoon teas on the terrace…but for some inferior stitchery on poor Abigail’s bodice.
And now the duke is faced with a choice. Should he make this mouse a respectable offer and then abandon her to his country estate? She’s rather pathetic and harmless, really. Oughtn’t to upset his life whatsoever.
His heart, however, is another matter…
Lady at Last
(Lord Love a Lady Series, Book 4)
Penelope’s Story
* * *
She can't make a baby without a husband! Or can she?
After witnessing the miracle of birth, self-determined spinster Miss Penelope Crone is having second thoughts about swearing off marriage. She wants – no, she needs – to experience the blessed event herself. Dear God, she’s practically thirty! Time is running out!
Hugh Chesterton, Viscount Danbury, is relatively intelligent, good looking, unmarried, and most importantly, close at hand. With a little décolletage, a sway of the hips, and a few drinks of brandy, Penelope is certain she can extract a respectable offer.
If only she’d accounted for the power of passion.
Because unchecked lust takes over, leaving Penelope in a most precarious predicament. And Lord Danbury –– the goose-brained jackanapes –– is proving far less attainable than she’d imagined.
Is Penelope to be cast out of society or will Lord Danbury take a leap of faith and save her from ruin? He'd better act fast if he's going to make her his lady. HIs Lady At Last...
* * *
Lady and the Rake
(Lord Love a Lady Series, Book 6)
Margaret’s Story… Coming Soon!
* * *
THE LORD LOVE A LADY SERIES
* * *
Book 1: Nobody's Lady
Book 2: A Lady's Prerogative
Book 3: Lady Saves The Duke
Book 4: Lady At Last
Book 5: Lady Be Good
Book 6: Lady And The Rake (coming March 2020)
About the Author
Annabelle Anders began publishing in 2017 and left her day job a year later. Since then, she’s published over ten full length Regency Romance novels, with one of them receiving the distinguished RITA nomination in 2019. She writes at her home in the small town of Grand Junction, Colorado with the “help" of her two miniature dachshunds and husband of over thirty years and is happy to have finally found her place in life.
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* * *
And if you haven’t read Penelope’s story, READ ON for a sample from chapter one.
Lady At Last
Chapter One, A Miracle.
It had taken a miracle to change Penelope Cross’s mind about spinsterhood, but her mind had changed, nonetheless.
Penelope wrinkled her nose. Had it been a miracle? It was simply a baby. A birth. The creation of life.
Perhaps it was a miracle, after all. Penelope placed her gloved hands atop the sturdy fence post, leaned her head forward, and pressed it against the wood. The air was crisp; the sun bright. A bit of snow remained in the shaded areas of the meadow.
It ought to be a perfectly normal February evening.
But it was not.
After thirty-six hours of labor pains, her dear friend, Lilly, the Duchess of Cortland, had finally given birth to a tiny, red-faced, wiggling, and wrinkled human. He was all of two hours old.
Penelope had witnessed the entire event. And oh, what a spectacle it had been. One would think at the ripe age of eight-and-twenty that nothing could change her mind about what she wanted in life. But this…
Seeing a child enter the world…
Well, it had.
And the craziest thought had developed as she’d assisted the midwife in cleaning the squirming, slimy little creature before handing him over to his exhausted mother.
I want one.
Which, of course, changed everything.
Because Penelope had long ago given up any hope of capturing the attention of her one true love. And if she could not have him, she didn’t want anybody else. She would never marry; she had decided so just this past fall.
And now this!
This bodily need—this hunger—had hit her so very unexpectedly. An emptiness had opened up inside of her, an emptiness that could only be filled by making her own little screaming human.
She smiled and covered her mouth with one hand, tears flowing down her cheeks. The look on Lilly’s face, in her eyes, when Penelope had handed her the blanketed bundle. Total fulfillment.
Penelope swiped at her tears and sniffled.
Lilly’s husband, the Duke of Cortland, had been in awe—of both his wife and his son. For theirs was a marriage of love. Not only did the duke have his heir now, but he and Lilly and that miniature human were a family now.
Penelope did not begrudge them. In fact, most of the girls who’d befriended her when she’d first entered society were now married. Not only married but happily so. Even Abigail! The least likely of them all to wed!
Again, the image of tiny little hands, tiny little feet and toes, tiny little everything, clouded her vision. And again, she experienced the hunger.
I want one!
But how? Well, the answer was obvious. Penelope sighed. I’ll have to find myself a man! A husband to be exact.
As Penelope marched back toward Summer’s Park, the duke’s large country estate near Exeter, she mentally calculated which gentlemen of her acquaintance she’d be willing to tolerate. Since he was most definitely not interested, she was going to have to find somebody else. Somebody she could bear for the remainder of her life—or his, whichever the case may be.
She could always set her sights upon one of his brothers. But Penelope quickly dismissed the notion.
If she could not have him, then she most definitely did not wish to become a part of his family.
No, she would have to find some other lucky gent.
Hugh Chesterton, the Viscount of Danbury, was the most obvious choice. Except Danbury had eluded marriage for as long as she’d known him. Nearly ten years, in fact!
; Ouch. This fact reminded her that the next London season would be her tenth. Most would consider her firmly upon the shelf. At eight and twenty, she could never hope to take the ton by storm. She’d become something more along the lines of a drizzle. She personified London itself—in the form of a woman. Had she really participated in a decade of seasons?
Not to be distracted by these negative thoughts, Penelope enumerated to herself the reasons Danbury would be a good choice.
Proximity, first and foremost.
He was, at this very moment, lounging in Cortland’s study consuming copious amounts of celebratory scotch. For this was where the gentlemen had spent the past twenty or so hours awaiting the news of a safe delivery for the duchess and their little marquess.
Tolerability as well.
Hugh, as a friend, could very possibly be molded into a tolerable husband. He was pleasant, had a fine sense of humor, and wasn’t a complete idiot.
Neither was he hard on the eyes.
And ah, yes, suitability. As a viscount, he was born of a fine lineage. Her parents would not find any fault in him whatsoever. Which wasn’t really an issue for Penelope, but it would make things easier.
Availability.
Hmmm… this was an uncertainty. Not that Danbury was actually attached to any other female of her acquaintance, but he had certainly been successful in escaping wedlock thus far.
The debutantes who’d set their sights upon Viscount Danbury had gone about attempting to capture him in all the wrong ways. They’d endeavored to seduce him with their frills, sighs, batting eyelashes, and empty-headed opinions.