by Cecilia Rene
Before the earl could pass his hat to the waiting butler, Julia gave him a breathtaking smile and took a step forward. “I am so pleased you were able to join us,” she gushed, ignoring the rules of propriety.
Looking up at her, his face lit up. “I would not have missed it if my very life depended on it.” Bowing to her, he ignored the others, having eyes only for Julia.
Beside him, his mother cleared her throat rather gruffly for such an elegant looking lady. “Excuse me, may I present my mother, Lady Heartford and my uncle, Mr. Livingstone.” He waved his hand to the family of four in front of him. “Lord Hempstead, Lady Hempstead, Lady Olivia, and this lovely creature is Lady Julia.”
Julia bobbed a curtsey, her excitement bubbling out of her as she stared expectantly at the current Lady Heartford, who gave her a curt greeting.
“Ahh, Hempstead, thank you for inviting us. My nephew is quite enraptured,” Mr. Livingstone greeted Livie’s father cheerfully. His tall, rail-thin frame contrasted sharply with his sister’s shorter stature.
“It is an honor to have you all in our home,” Livie’s father responded, ignoring the latter part of the gentleman’s comment.
“Constance will show you into the drawing room.” Her mother fanned her hand out, where a maid was waiting diligently to escort them.
The duke, Mother Di, and Mr. Prescott entered next. Remington’s gaze fixed on Livie as if she had set every star in the sky.
“Lord and Lady Hempstead, good evening. I was very pleased to receive the invitation,” Mother Di greeted her hosts gracefully.
“It is our pleasure, Lady Diana. We know of the bond between you and His Grace. I dare not exclude his only living mother,” Lady Hempstead said.
“You pay me a great honor, Lady Hempstead.” Mother Di took the countess’s hand and squeezed.
The sight of the two women conversing easily filled Livie with joy.
“Please allow me to escort you to the drawing room, Lady Diana.” Her father offered Mother Di his arm while her husband escorted Lady Hempstead.
“Ladies, may I escort you both?” Remington gave both Livie and Julia a dashing smile.
“Thank you, Your Grace, we would be obliged.” Julia took his proffered arm as Livie walked to his other side.
Julia peered around the duke to stare at her cousin. “Henry’s mother did seem rather odd, did she not, Livie?”
“Mmm, must we discuss this in front of the duke?” Livie’s nervously shifted her gaze from her cousin to Remington.
She really didn’t want him to see how her and Julia behaved. Surely, they should act with some sort of deportment in his company.
They stopped in front of the drawing room. “His Grace is well acquainted with us. We may speak freely, can we not?” Julia questioned raising a brow at him as they stopped outside of the parlor.
“Of course, you can. Your secrets are safe with me, Lady Julia, and I will always hold Livie’s secrets close to my heart.” His gaze traveled over Livie’s person, causing her breathing to increase as her lips parted in need of air.
“Do not be silly. Livie has no secrets. You’ve never met a truer person.” Julia’s voice was sincere as she released his arm and walked into the drawing room.
Livie loved her cousin, but she did think she had some secrets from Julia, and the rest of the world.
Remington leaned down to whisper in her ear, causing her already pounding heart to triple in speed. “If you have no secrets, I shall enjoy creating ones with you.”
She giggled. “What shall we do to make these secrets?”
“Oh, darling, leave that up to me—”
“Lady Olivia, Your Grace, the guests are waiting on you,” her mother said, interrupting their playful banter.
Straightening, Remington escorted them both into the drawing room where the rest of their party sat, drinking wine.
Mr. Livingstone stood anxiously, wringing his hands, when Remington and Livie entered the room and walked toward them. “Your Grace! I was thrilled when I heard you were courting the lovely Lady Olivia. Having known you all these years, I must say I was quite shocked at the news. Good for you!”
“Thank you, Livingstone.” Remington nodded to the older gentleman.
“That makes two of us, Livingstone. I was thrilled my son found someone on which to place his special attention.” Mother Di took a sip of her sherry.
“I do wonder how his real mother would feel about such a statement coming from the likes of you.” Lady Heartford’s voice was cold. Her dark eyes bored into Mother Di’s.
Livie looked at each woman, appalled by Lady Heartford’s harsh words. The chatter around the room ended, all eyes going from Lady Heartford to Mother Di expectantly. The air in the room now felt heavy. Livie looked over at her mother for some direction on how to steer the conversation. She sat bone straight, her eyes filled with interest, as if she was waiting on a war to happen.
Looking down with a bored expression, Mother Di delicately smoothed out her skirts, a lovely silver color that brought out her eyes, before easing an imaginary stray hair back in place. She plastered a tight-lipped smile on her face and made eye contact with Lady Heartford. “As I was her closest and dearest friend, I can assure you in all honesty that she would be very pleased. After all, it was her dying wish that I care for Remington as if he were my own son.”
“Did her dying wish also include you marrying her husband when she was only gone three months?” Lady Heartford spit out with venom, looking as if she wanted to unsheathe a sword and duel the other woman.
“Perhaps we can spare the St. Johns the usual arguments when we’re all together,” Remington said harshly, interrupting what appeared to be an ancient disagreement between the two ladies. His jaw tightened as if he was trying to prepare himself for the upcoming battle of wills.
Mother Di ignored her son, before inspecting her gloved hands in bored fascination. “Lady Evers was a vision when we saw her at Lady Wilcox’s ball. Her resemblance to your husband has always been uncanny—”
“How dare you!” Lady Heartford slapped her hand down on the table, looking as if she wanted to throttle Mother Di.
“That is enough, you two. I suggest that you both find a way to be in each other’s company. Especially with both Heartford and I courting Lady Julia and Lady Olivia.” Remington’s voice rose slightly, putting an end to the feud.
Livie cleared her throat several times, trying to interrupt the argument, thinking that family dinners will be more than interesting in the future with Lady Heartford and Mother Di constantly bickering.
“Mr. Prescott, is it true you raise horses?” Livie asked, trying to alleviate some of the tension in the room while the two ladies continued to glare at each other.
She felt the need to try and make the evening enjoyable, especially for Remington who looked like he wanted to flee in embarrassment. Although, Livie felt that both ladies were in the wrong she couldn’t help but believe that Lady Heartford was the main cause of the animosity.
“Yes. My thoroughbreds are descendants from one of the three founding stallions, the Godolphin Barb,” Mr. Prescott said proudly, his chest puffing out a little.
“How fares your new thoroughbred?” Heartford asked cheerily, his gaze shifting over to his mother.
“He is a magnificent creature. The Prince Regent himself has inquired about him. I feel I must gift him the horse. He is royalty, after all.” Mr. Prescott’s demeanor lit up proudly, the evidence that he took pride in his horses clear on his face.
Thomas entered the room, his old eyes searching out Lady Hempstead. “My lady, dinner is served.”
Mother Di and Lady Heartford avoided each other’s gaze as everyone stood, waiting on their hosts to exit the drawing room. Livie took Remington’s proffered arm, staring up at him boldly as they stood waiting on the others leave the room.
“I did not have the opportunity to tell you how absolutely breathtaking you are tonight.” Remington’s voice tickled her ear, caus
ing delicious tingles to dance down her spine.
“Thank you, Remington.” She smiled shyly and avoided eye contact, unaccustomed to compliments.
They followed their party to the dining room, being the last to join. As the guests sat down for dinner, the atmosphere was still charged with animosity. Although the two ladies were on opposite ends of the dining table, they occasionally glared at the other, making the other occupants feel uncomfortable.
Livie felt the need to steer the conversation in a completely different direction, focusing on less contentious topics. Her mother was of no use, being so enamored with Mother Di. Julia was occupied with trying to please who she hoped was her future mother-in-law, but the woman completely ignored her.
“I’m finding that we have so many invitations, I do not know which to choose from,” Livie said, her gaze shifting around the table.
“Whichever one you choose, I would be happy to accompany you.” Remington captivated her in his strong gaze.
Excitement built in her chest at the thought that he wanted to attend more events with her. Livie could face all of society with him by her side.
“We must visit Vauxhall Gardens, and I would love it if you joined us at the opera. We have a box, of course.” Lady Diana took a delicate bite, ignoring Lady Heartford’s scowl.
“I would like nothing more, Mother Di.” Livie set her fork down, stuffed from the meal.
“Do you have a box Lady Heartford?” Julia asked trying to engage the lady.
Lady Heartford did not acknowledge Julia immediately, but took a sip of her wine as if she had not heard the question.
“We do have one, and we would love for you to attend with us,” Heartford answered for his mother. He glared at his mother, but she ignored him.
The woman was abominable. Julia’s shoulders slumped, her usual happy face was now downcast. Livie did not like how the countess treated Julia, especially because she had no reason to be rude.
Once the table was cleared, a chorus of desserts was served: iced pudding, iced oranges, compote of peaches, and dessert biscuits.
Livie’s mouth watered seeing Cook’s dessert biscuits. The memory of their buttery flakiness had not lessened in the fortnight since she’d had one. As soon as one was on her plate, her mother gave a delicate clearing of her throat, causing Livie to look up at her. Mother and daughter held each other’s gazes momentarily until Livie took a dainty bite, her eyes challenging her mother.
Julia giggled, stealing Lady Hempstead’s attention away from Livie’s dessert.
“I hope the gentlemen don’t mind taking our drinks with the ladies. I would like Lady Olivia and Lady Julia to play for us tonight.” Lord Hempstead stood and walked over to his wife to take her hand.
“We would be honored, Uncle, wouldn’t we Lady Olivia?” Julia asked, challenge in her eyes. She knew how much Livie loathed playing and singing in front of people.
“Indeed, Lady Julia,” Livie replied, sweetly.
Once they were escorted back to the drawing room, Livie rushed to the pianoforte, sitting down before Julia, who was too enamored with Lord Heartford.
Since they were small, they often fought over who would play and who would sing. Neither one of them enjoyed singing very much, so soon it became a game of who could reach the pianoforte first.
“Your singing voice is much more pleasant than mine.” Livie turned to one of their favorite pieces to play.
“Fine, but next time, you’re singing.” Julia stomped her foot in defeat.
Livie ignored the small tantrum as her fingers began to move across the silky keys. Her eyes closed of their own accord as Julia started to softly sing The Three Ravens. Her beautiful, high soprano voice filled the room. Livie opened her eyes, intending to steal a glance at the marquess to see how he was responding to Julia’s voice, only to find her eyes locked with the deep blue of Remington’s.
Her fingers kept playing, as she stared openly at him, enjoying the intimate moment. Once the last chord was played, the room stood, clapping at the performance.
Livie stood and bowed alongside Julia. Her gaze found Remington’s again. He winked, causing heat to spread across her cheeks.
The slight smirk on his lips informed her that he knew perfectly well the effect he had on her.
What fun is there to be had at the Opera? Rumor has it that our Bachelor Duke will be in attendance with Lady O. How long will this farce last? Inquiring minds want to know.
The King’s Theater was filled to the shutters with the wealthiest and most distinguished members of society, all wanting to see the performance of Mozart’s La Clemenza di Tito opera. As Livie entered on the arm of Remington, she once again found herself the center of attention. They trailed behind his mother and her husband. Through the crowd, Livie tried desperately to focus on the elaborate chandeliers hanging from the painted ceiling and the deep, rich burgundy curtains that covered the windows and not the whispers that followed her.
“She is too round in the hips.”
“I dare say she is wide for a miss.”
“What must he see in her?”
Remington stopped as they passed the small crowd at the entrance, turning to face each one of their onlookers in the eye. His glare was cold as he took her gloved hand in his, pressing her knuckles to his lips. Gasps echoed around the room, but Livie could not care less. Her eyes were locked on the vibrant blues of the man who always knew exactly what she needed.
He returned her gloved hand to his arm, never taking his gaze from hers. They made their way to their box seats, catching up with his mother at the entrance.
“My dears, I’m going to go powder my nose. I feel I’m starting to feel a bit under the weather.” The woman was pale and a bead of sweat glistened on her brow.
“Would you like me to accompany you?” Livie took a step forward, worried about Mother Di. The woman had looked a little pale in the carriage but insisted that they still attend the opera.
“No, please take your seats. Mr. Prescott shall escort me. I fear I may be getting a bit of a cold.” She daintily patted her nose with a handkerchief as her husband escorted her away.
Remington led Livie into the secluded opera box, drawing the curtain closed behind him. They were utterly alone for the first time. He cupped her cheek and gazed into her eyes. Heat spread throughout her body. Her heart began to beat wildly in her chest. “Livie, I am very sorry you had to be subjected to their gossip.”
His hand traveled to the nape of her neck, guiding her head back as he leaned down, their lips a whisper apart. Her tongue wet her dry lips in anticipation. “Let me assure you that I find every single inch of you pleasing, and I cannot wait until the day I may call you mine.”
Remington’s lips pressed to hers. His free arm encircled her waist and pulled her closer to him. A groan of pleasure escaped him. Livie was excited, knowing she was the one that caused him to react in such a way. He brushed his lips softly against hers, allowing her time to become accustomed. She relaxed in his arms. Her lips parted, releasing a sigh of contentment.
Taking her bottom lip into his own, he sucked gently, before gliding his silky tongue along it. Livie whimpered, the pure ecstasy of his lips touching hers was a feeling she had never felt in her life. His hand spread wide on her lower back branding her through the fabric of her dress.
“Remington,” she sighed against his lips, hearing voices all around them. She wanted to stop the madness with all of society just on the other side of the curtain. But she could only grasp his lapels and hold on tight as she opened to him, allowing him the freedom to devour her.
Time stood still while they kissed for what seemed like forever, their lips unable to part, even for something as basic as breathing. The dull sound of voices all around her was drowned out by the rushed beat of her heart. Remington trailed kisses down her neck, and she tilted her head back, gasping for sweet air while new sensations traveled down to the apex of her thighs.
“Livie, my God, Livie,” he groa
ned out before he covered her mouth again with his.
“How wonderful of Lady Hillwood to invite us to dinner.” His mother’s loud voice pierced the cloud of lust that had taken up residence in Livie’s mind.
Remington released his hold on her and took a step back just as his mother and her husband entered the box. Livie took several quick breaths clutching her heaving chest trying to ease her frantic nerves.
“There you two are.” Lady Diana’s gaze landed on Livie, giving her a knowing look.
“Are you well, Mother Di?” Livie tried to steady her voice but heard it quiver.
“I am, it’s just a cold. I’m sure I’ll be better in no time at all.” Mother Di passed them as she walked toward a seat. “A fine lot they are tonight. I am accustomed to their scrutiny, but how dare they make say such vile things about Lady Olivia.” Shaking her head, she sat down with a look of disgust.
“Yes, well, I did not wish to subjugate Lady Olivia to their idiotic behavior a moment longer,” Remington voiced coldly.
Livie beamed at him, stunned that he felt the need to protect her from society’s cruel words. Although, since she and her family arrived in town there’d been nothing but cruel things said about her. The gossips had been especially ruthless.
“Yes, you were right on that account.” Mother Di faced Livie. “Ignore them, Livie, society is always criticizing their betters, and you, my darling, are better than them all”.
Livie’s affection for the woman grew. “Mother Di, you pay me a great compliment.” Remington guided her by the elbow to the empty row in front of the couple.
“Nonsense, it’s the truth.” Mother Di said. “Besides, every now and again, we need to tip the scale of propriety.” She giggled as Livie took a seat in front of her.
Mr. Prescott walked over to the curtain and took it in one of his hands. “Are we ready to put on a mask for London?” His eyes danced with mischief.
“We’re always ready. Open the curtain.” Mother Di gave her husband a nod.