Magical Weddings (89 page)

Lillian nodded.

She wore the same dress she had worn at the theatre, which was entirely inappropriate as it showed her ankles and far too much of her bosom, revealing the edge of her dark nipples, but it had been all she had. Yet regardless, she was acting this out beautifully, as though she did not care. This morning there had been tears over her lack of appropriate clothing and so their next visit was to a modiste.

As they walked into the church, Drew added in a whisper, “Harry is not here, he would not come. He said it was cruel of you to treat Emily so ill, and that it would feel disloyal to her for him to attend.”

“As if he has a right to judge; he’s treated a hundred women ill. He has always been the most debauched of all of us.”

“I think you will find that he is at this very moment turning over a new leaf.”

Peter looked sideways at Drew. “He truly does have some affection for Emily then?”

“I think this says it all.”

“Then I am even gladder I did not marry her.” He smiled at Lillian and squeezed her hand. “I made the right decision, you for me, and Emily will have her chance at happiness, Lillian.”

She nodded again, and then put on a bright smile for Mary and Mark as they walked up to them. “Hello, Mr Harper, we met before.”

****

The church was full of light and shade as they walked up the aisle with Peter’s friends behind them. She felt a fool in her costume, and yet Peter had told her in the carriage, “Act.” That was what she had been doing, treating this like a performance, speaking with his friends as though it was perfectly normal for her to speak to lords and ladies as her equals.

Yet they would be her equals in moments. Oh, the thought terrified her.

Peter lifted her hand and looked at her as the real vicar began reciting words.

This was no act, no conjurer’s trick. It was real. Yet perhaps a little magic hovered between Peter and her, it was in his eyes.

Her gaze clung on to Peter’s, as it had the first night she’d seen him watching her in the theatre. Intensity burned in his eyes. Love. He had said it over and over again. I love you.

I love you.
The words breathed through her in a silent reply.

Her hand trembled as she held it so he could put on a plain gold ring, to join the sapphire one he’d placed there yesterday. She curled her fingers about it as her hand fell, holding it in place even though it was not loose.

“I now pronounce you man and wife…” Were the only words she absorbed through the entire service, and then she was in Peter’s arms and he kissed her.

Peter walked into the drawing room and smiled as Lillian pointed at a vase. “No, Meg, I think move it back over there.”

The maid picked it up and then nearly dropped it when she looked up and saw Peter, and tried to curtsy, all at once. “My Lord.” She turned then and carried on, returning it to stand on an occasional table at the edge of the room.

Lillian spun about with a smile. “Peter.” Her rotund stomach came into view when she turned. She did not show her condition at all from behind for she was as slender as she’d been months ago, but her stomach now made her condition very clear. His child was tucked up, securely growing inside that neat little bump. For the last few months he had been walking on air with a broad smile on his lips, and each time she had her back to him and then turned, it caught him in the chest with a lance of pride.

“Do you think the vase looks best there, or before the window?”

“There is fine.” His house was being dressed like a theatre set as Lillian prepared herself to act her heart out again. They were having their first house party, and to add to her challenge, his father had actually made the decision to leave his home and come and see this new wife of Peter’s. He did not know Lillian’s past, and Peter hoped he would never find out as he never went to London. All Lillian had to do was live her part, and his father would welcome her into the family. His sister was coming too, and Drew with Mary and George, and the newly born Iris, and then Harry was coming with Emily, whom he had married only a month ago, and poor Mark, who was usually left to wander the gambling hells and brothels alone.

“Would you fetch us some tea, Meg?”

“Yes, my Lady.” The maid gave Lillian a swift curtsy, then left.

Lillian looked at Peter, her teal eyes full of doubt now the maid had gone and the need to put on her show was over. “Do you think I have remembered everything? Do you think I will make a fool of myself?”

She could read and write now, and she had spent hours carefully writing her invitations, and then choosing her menus from a book his cook had given her.

“I am nervous,” she said, looking back at the vase, and clearly thinking whether to move it again.

He walked up behind her and wrapped his arm about this magical woman whom he had found in the strangest place. “I know, Lillian, love, but whatever happens you shall endure it because you will smile and the room will fill up with that aura of yours, which entrances people and no one will care what is on their plates, or who is sitting where, or whether their bed has sheets.” Pride wrapped about his heart as his arms embraced her and settled over the child in her stomach.

She’d come a long way since they’d arrived here. Perhaps later in the year he might even dare her to face going back to town with him. But only because he wished to show off his beautiful, perfect wife.

She turned in his arms. “Peter, when they are here, I thought we may perform a play. I found a book of them in the library. Do you think they would?”

“I’m sure they would all join in.” He would have kissed her lips but she turned away.

“No, I am moving that vase.” She picked it up.

He walked forward and took it from her hands. “Where?”

“Just there, near the window.”

She smiled at the vase when he set it down and then at him as she came over and turned the vase just so.

He moved before it laughing. “Enough, Lillian, it is fine, the house is fine, more than fine, perfect. Everything is perfect. You are perfect.”

She smiled at him, that beautiful smile which lit up her teal eyes. It seemed to have so much more depth than it had when he’d first known her.

He stepped forward and cupped her cheek in his palm. “I am going to cancel that tea and take you outside for a walk about the gardens and we will await our visitors’ arrival calmly, enjoying each other’s company so you have a last chance just to feel relaxed and be yourself.”

She nodded, and she would have turned, but he caught hold of her wrist. “You know you have made me complete, Lillian. It really does not matter to me what happens this weekend.”

“I know, but I worry about your father. You have given me my family back, I do not wish to lose you yours.”

“I shall not lament, but I shall be angry with him if he does not immediately fall in love with you.”

“You are blinded by your own opinion.”

He looked at the ceiling. “Thank the Lord. I am very glad for everything I feel!”

She smacked his arm. “Stop being silly and take me for a walk. You are right; it will take my mind off moving that vase.”

He gripped her hand, but she stopped him from turning her away. “You know, Peter, I feel nervous, and yet…” She smiled. “I am happy all the way from the top of my head to soles of my feet.”

“I know, Lillian, I can see it in your eyes.”

Her lips parted in a brighter smile. “As I can see your confidence in me, there is always pride in your eyes.”

“Lillian, love, what man would not be proud of you? That man would be a fool.”

Jane is a
Kindle bestselling author and a writer of authentic, passionate and emotional Historical and New Adult romances, and
she’s a sucker for a love story. “I love the feeling of falling in love and it’s wonderful to be able to do it time and time again in fiction.” She loves writing intense relationships
and she
is thrilled to be giving her characters life in others’ imaginations.

If you would like to read the beginning of Peter’s story, then it is within Mary and Drew’s book, 
The Dangerous Love of a Rogue
.

Like all of Jane Lark's historical books, the inspiration for 
The Jealous Love of a Scoundrel
 came from a true story. It was Emma Hart’s rise from an actress who formed classical poses, and sat for artists, to become Lady Hamilton, which inspired Lillian’s and Peter’s story.

To discover all the true stories behind her historical books and find out more about the Marlow Intrigues Series visit her at 
https://janelark.wordpress.com
.

A Time Travel Romance

Bess McBride

Copyright © 2015 by:

Bess McBride

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any
means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief
quotes used in reviews.

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I hated to admit it, but envy nagged at me as I watched Molly and Darius exchange vows under one of the majestic oak trees in the cemetery. A cemetery was certainly an odd place for a wedding, but it’s where Molly and Darius had met—more than once, if you believed their story.

Molly and I had shopped in nearby Council Bluffs for her sleek gown of white satin. It molded to her body, and I couldn’t resist a big grin when Darius first saw her walking toward him in the cemetery. His jaw dropped, and his cheeks bronzed. A nineteenth-century kind of guy, he probably wasn’t used to seeing a dress as formfitting as Molly’s.

I couldn’t remember how or why the subject had come up, but Molly had let slip that she and Darius had been celibate. Apparently, Darius preferred to wait until they were married, given his old-fashioned values.

“You’re kidding!” I exclaimed.

She shook her head with a rueful smile.

“Nope, that’s the way he wants it, so we’ve waited. It hasn’t been easy though, for either one of us, since we live together, but I have no doubt he will be worth waiting for.” She blushed, much as Darius did now when he gazed upon Molly.

The local minister, a surprisingly young man of about thirty, presided over the small gathering consisting of Darius, Molly and me. Darius had no friends or family, since he had been born in the eighteen hundreds. And Molly had me. During their odd and surreal romance, neither one of them had yet had a chance to make friends in the small town of Lilium, Iowa. While Molly and I had certainly met the managers of the local hardware store, grocery and post office, Molly, out of necessity, had not let anyone get very close.

The necessity being that Darius was a time traveler. Not one of those futuristic sorts who traveled through different eras solving crimes or historical crises along the way, but a man who had traveled through time to find the woman he loved.

Goose bumps rose on my arm as I heard my thoughts. Traveling through time to find the woman he loved. Sigh. So romantic! So improbable.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves of the old oak tree and highlighted the white sheen of Molly’s gown, bringing it to a shimmering glow. Her dark hair, caught softly up into a bun, gleamed in the sunlight. She wore no veil, and the wind toyed with the curls on her neck.

She had told me she decided against the veil because it was almost always windy in the cemetery on top of the hill, and she didn’t want it whipping around her face. She had been right. The cemetery was as windy as I remembered when we first visited it a few months ago, and I was thankful I didn’t have to run off through the tombstones in pursuit of a flying wisp of veil. My mother would not have approved.

I felt a little guilty that I hadn’t told our parents of Molly’s wedding, but that’s how Molly wanted it. She had said she wasn’t ready to explain Darius to Mom yet, and I had to admit that I didn’t blame her. Our mother had always gently mocked Molly for dancing to the beat of a different drummer.

I hadn’t realized how much Mom’s teasing had haunted Molly over the years, until she called and asked me to help her plan her small wedding.

“Sure! I’ll come! I’m so happy for you, Molly,” I said. There had been no doubt Darius and Molly would marry. “Are you going to call Mom and Dad?”

I had heard nothing but silence for a moment.

“Molly?”

“No, I don’t want to tell them about Darius just yet. I don’t know how to explain him, and I don’t want to try. They’ll meet him someday, but for now, I just want the people who know about us at the wedding, and that’s you, me and him.”

“Are you sure, Molly? Mom and Dad will be crushed.”

“I know,” she said. “No chance they’re going on another trip soon and couldn’t have made the wedding anyway?”