A Lord's Kiss

by Mary Lancaster et al.

  “Then we should depart,” her father said. He gripped his wife’s elbow, drawing her out of her chair.

  “We?” Victoria repeated. Her free hand fluttered over the back of the chair in front of her for an instant before gripping it. The strong sense of the ground shifting beneath her feet assailed her.

  John’s fingers, clasped in her other hand, felt strong and sure.

  “Of course. Come along.” Her father crowded them all out of the room. “You wish your parents to attend your wedding, do you not?”

  “Well, yes.” Victoria glanced at John. “John?”

  Grinning, he shrugged unhelpfully.

  “Is that what you intend to wear?” her mother asked as they hurried down the staircase.

  Victoria almost tripped as she glanced down at her dark blue traveling dress. “Well, yes.” In a panic, she looked over her shoulder. “My portmanteau!”

  “Send a maid for it. You will need a maid, after all,” her mother pointed out. “Kingston! Lady Victoria’s portmanteau must be brought immediately, and one of the maids must pack a case immediately. Mary will do. She has precisely five minutes.”

  The sensation of the earth shifting beneath Victoria returned even more strongly. She stumbled on the last step and was thankful when John caught her.

  When she looked up, he winked. “We have been outmaneuvered, my dearest.”

  “I’m so sorry—I don’t know what to say.”

  “Then my advice—when you are asked—is to simply say yes,” he advised, his warm, brown eyes twinkling.

  He glanced around quickly. Noting that the attention of her parents was focused on donning their outer wear, John pulled her closer and pressed a firm kiss on her surprised lips.

  When he released her, she laughed and touched his lean cheek. “Yes, then. And if this is truly a mistake, then it is the most agreeable mistake I have ever made, and one I know I will never regret.”

  He searched her face intently before his lopsided grin twisted his mouth. “I could spout a great deal of sentimental drivel—that to err is human nonsense, for example—but I believe I’ll spare you.”

  “What? My husband-to-be has nothing to say, then?” she asked, eyes wide in mock horror.

  His arm tightened around her briefly before he let her go to accept his hat and walking stick. “Nothing but I love you, Lady Vee, and that is the sum and end of it.”

  “A happy ending, indeed.” Filled with the deep joy of knowing she was at last doing the right thing, she slipped her hand through the crook of his arm.

  Then, Kingston opened the door and brilliant sunshine flooded the hallway, carrying with it the vibrant promise of a new day and a new life unfolding before them.

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