She ran her fingers through his glorious hair that was much longer than other gentlemen she knew. But that’s what made him stand out more. Just as she wasn’t like most women, he was different from most men.
As he tilted his head back and forth, she could tell her bonnet was getting in the way. She withdrew from the kiss to take off the barrier, but his fingers were already at her chin, untying the silk ribbons. Before she could see where her bonnet had fallen, he pulled her back to his waiting mouth.
She loved how eager he seemed—as if he couldn’t get enough. His hands caressed her back, and up her neck. She didn’t mind that he tangled his fingers in her hair, either. He acted as if he wanted to touch every part of her. Melinda felt that urgency, as well, but being on a horse was not the place to become so intimate with one another.
When she felt herself slipping, she broke the kiss and grasped the saddle. Laughing, he righted them in place.
“I suppose we got rather carried away,” he said.
“We did, but perhaps this isn’t where we should kiss to our heart’s content.”
He shook his head. “Definitely, not here.”
With both hands, she stroked his face. “So where and when?”
He laughed again. “Are you anxious, my love?”
She sighed aloud, loving the endearment. “Extremely.”
“Before we decide on a location, I need to ask you one more thing.”
“What?”
He took hold of her hand and brought it to his mouth to kiss her knuckles. “Melinda, my love, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
Her heart soared as happiness flowed through her body. “Most definitely.” She kissed his lips again but withdrew before they could get carried away again. “But my question would be—how soon can we marry?”
Morgan hugged her tight and buried his face in her neck, still chuckling. “Oh, my love.” He left tiny kisses on her skin, which sent heated chills through her. “I promise to make you my wife as fast as I can.”
* * *
Morgan and Melinda decided on a small ceremony, only because they didn’t have many family members here, and only a few friends. Judith Woodland stood beside Melinda as her witness, and Lord Trey was Morgan’s witness. Melinda’s brother Jake was the ring keeper, and he also was the one to give his sister away. Thankfully, Lord Trey knew how to get a special license for Morgan, and he was also friends with a minister.
Morgan’s chest burst with happiness. He didn’t think he’d ever feel this elated, but as he watched his bride enter the chapel and walk toward him, the love he felt for her brought tears to his eyes.
Her pure white gown was trimmed with silver ribbon along the square neck. The short sleeves gently swept off her shoulders. She wore elbow-length white gloves, and a pure white cape that hooked to the back of the gown, flowing behind her as she walked down the aisle. The gown itself appeared to have pleats going from just under the bodice, all the way down. Melinda’s hair was styled just the way he liked, in loose ringlets. White and baby blue flowers decorated her hair, and a pearl necklace decorated her lovely neck…that he had enjoyed nibbling on many times in the seven days they had to wait to be wed.
For the special occasion, Morgan wore his off-white trousers with a dark blue velvet jacket. His waist jacket was the same color of baby blue flowers in Melinda’s hair, and his cravat matched his trousers. On his head was the customary top hat.
After admiring the way she regally waltzed down the aisle toward him, he noticed that she couldn’t take her gaze off him, either. He would never remember what the Woodlands were wearing, or what Melinda’s brother looked like, but he’d forever have Melinda’s image stamped in his memory.
He took her hands and pulled her beside him as they faced the minister. Morgan didn’t even know what the man of the cloth looked like, either. All he could do was stare at his beautiful bride. Her amber eyes were like gems, and misted slightly as she met his gaze.
Morgan wasn’t really listening to the minister, and Lord Trey had to nudge him and remind him to repeat the vows. Apparently, Judith had to do the same with Melinda. Morgan grinned wide, knowing she felt the same way as he did today.
Jake handed them the rings, which they exchanged. And when Morgan heard the minister pronounce them husband and wife, he didn’t let the man of God finish before he was pulling Melinda into his arms and sealing their vows with a kiss.
She responded to his kiss, answering him back with excited kisses of her own. This was the happiest day of his life, and he didn’t want this moment to end. However, Lord Trey cleared his throat and tapped Morgan on the shoulder.
“Save it for the bedroom,” Lord Trey whispered.
Morgan and Melinda broke apart laughing. Her cheeks were red from embarrassment. Morgan assumed his would be, also, but he really didn’t care. Melinda Stewart was finally his wife, and nothing could change that miracle. Melinda Drake did sound perfect.
Their few guests congratulated them, and it didn’t take long before Morgan escorted his wife to their coach and climbed inside. Once the footman shut the door, Morgan gathered her in his arms and relaxed them against the wall of the vehicle.
“Finally, we’re alone,” he mumbled and kissed her forehead.
“My thoughts, exactly.”
“So, wife, have you decided where you’d like me to take you for our honeymoon?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She cuddled closer. “Wherever we go, I’ll be happy.”
“And so will I.” He kissed her on the ear this time, breathing in her scent of lilacs.
“However, I would very much like you to take me to visit your family. I don’t know about them, and I’d like to.”
“I shall take you anywhere your heart desires, my love.” He trailed kisses down her neck.
“And then do you know what I want to do when we return?”
“What is that, my darling?” He took a piece of skin of her throat, and gently sucked it in his mouth.
Giggling, she pulled away and looked at him. “I’m trying to be serious.”
He nodded. “Forgive me, my dear. As you can see, I’m very eager to make you mine in the Biblical sense.”
“Yes, I can tell.” She laughed.
“Can you blame me?” He stroked her cheek. “You are finally mine.”
“And you are mine.”
“So tell me, my love. Where do you want me to take you after I take you to meet my family?”
She sighed. “Do you remember me telling you about the man who bought our house and kicked us out on the street?”
“I do.”
“Well, I want you to take me to him so that I can buy his business and kick him out on the street. And you, my handsome man, are the perfect person to convince him to sell it to us.”
Morgan threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, dear. What kind of woman are you?”
“I’m a woman that wants to right the wrong any way I can.”
He took both of her hands and brought them to his mouth as he brushed his lips across her gloved knuckles. “Then that will be our next line of business. I’m assuming you want to work beside me.”
“You assume correctly.” She smiled, and then tilted her head as she narrowed her eyes. “Do you realize by marrying me, you now own my land—the land I was determined not to sell you?”
“Oh, but my dearest love, this is the only way to seal the bargain, don’t you agree?”
“Yes. Working together, we shall accomplish anything.”
“And speaking of working together,” he said, pulling her back into his embrace. “I think from now until we return home, I want our communication to be with our mouths and hands. Doesn’t that sound pleasing?”
Releasing a low growl, Melinda snuggled against him and kissed his chin. “Nothing sounds more enjoyable.”
He silenced her with his mouth, but she acted as if she didn’t mind at all. It pleased him to know they were so much alike. He now looked forward to his life
with the woman of his dreams by his side…forever.
—The End—
About the Author
Marie Higgins
Marie Higgins-is a best-selling, multi-published author of Christian and sweet romance novels; from refined bad-boy heroes who make your heart melt to the feisty heroines who somehow manage to love them regardless of their faults. She’s published over 30 heartwarming, on-the-edge-of-your-seat stories. She broadens her readership by writing mystery/suspense, humor, time-travel, paranormal, along with her love for historical romances. Her readers have dubbed her "Queen of Tease", because of all her twists and turns and unexpected endings.Visit her website to discover more about her.
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HEART OF DELIGHT
Jenna Jaxon
Heart of Delight: Chapter One
London, May 5, 1820
Jonathan George Horatio Arturus, the Marquess of Halford, but Hal to his friends, sat cross-legged on the hard floor of the tiny balcony overlooking Lady Hamilton’s ballroom, hand on his chin, his gaze resting on the twirling dancers below. He yawned and shook his head, trying to stave off drowsiness. The dancing, the parties, the whole damn Season—which had only just begun—bored him to distraction.
The dancers below, engaged in a quadrille, flowed back and forth as the couples met, balanced, circled, and leaped about. All well and good to engage in a spritely dance when one had hopes of a particular young lady. Torture when one had none. He’d looked over this year’s crop of young damsels, freshly out in Society, and wouldn’t have given a farthing for the lot of them, much less made an offer to one. So of course this would be the year that Father got a bee in his bonnet about him marrying. Didn’t he realize eight-and-twenty was the prime age for bachelorhood?
The orchestra paused to change sets. Hal leaned forward, scrutinizing the brightly bedecked young ladies once more, hoping for a new face in the inevitable crowd. Not one. Sighing, he shifted his head from his left hand to his right.
“Oh.”
The breathy voice made him whirl around. A lovely young lady in a fetching white gown stared at him, her brows knit in a delightful frown.
“Halford, what are you doing up here?” Lady Celinda Graham, a distant relation of his mother’s family came toward him, her displeasure transforming into a sweet smile. She shook her head, setting her golden ringlets bouncing.
“Hiding. What about you?” He turned completely around to address her. Celinda had always been a favorite “cousin” of his. She could be exceptionally odd at times, which probably explained the attraction. Like would seek like.
“Oh, I didn’t particularly want to dance this set,” she said, gesturing over the balcony rail. “But neither did I wish to endure the company of Bertie Symons the entire time.” She wrinkled her nose. “I had thought to matchmake him with my cousin, Kate, but she’d probably have my guts for garters.”
He cocked his head. “Do I know her?”
“I don’t know. She’s Miss Locke, Lord Ainsley’s sister.”
“Hmmm.” He had met her two seasons ago and dismissed her as too strong a personality to deal with. Perhaps, given his father’s decree, he should reconsider. “I could meet your cousin instead. Do you think she would fancy me?” From what he remembered of her, he wouldn’t be bored.
“Huh. She’d have your guts for garters and wear them to the next ball.” Celinda laughed and moved closer to the railing, peering down at the ballroom floor. She scanned the room quickly then her attention seemed to focus on one particular set of dancers.
“Who are you watching?” Hal rose to stand beside her. Who was causing that bright pink blush on her cheeks, making her look more beautiful than ever?
“Kate. She’s dancing with Lord Finley, who’s just now returned from America.” Her cheeks deepened to rose. She flipped open her fan and plied it so vigorously her curls flew back from her face. “It is much hotter up here than I expected.’
“Indeed.” He gazed at her, seeing her truly for the first time in years. She’d changed since her come-out a year ago. Beautiful golden curls, flawless creamy skin, a lively personality, and very kissable coral lips. Why had he never considered her as a candidate for his marchioness? Had the answer to his dilemma been under his nose all along?
“Is that why you’re in shirtsleeves?” The color in her cheeks subsided a trifle. “Really, Halford, you are a scandal. You’ll be in such trouble if Lady Hamilton finds you thus—or anyone else other than me, for that matter. Put your jacket on, please.”
“It doesn’t fit.” He sighed. Unfortunate, but so true.
“That seems a matter to take up with your valet, or your tailor.” She turned once again to stare at the dancers below.
“Perhaps it is better said that I don’t fit it, Celinda.”
“What do you mean?” She regarded him with a puzzled smile.
“This.” He waved his hand at the glittering ballroom. “I’m tired of living by the ton’s rules, dictating what I can and cannot do. Why can I not sit in my shirtsleeves without creating a scandal? It’s as if the walls close round me each time I set foot in a ballroom. Neither am I comfortable with all the dancing and flirting—”
“Even though you do it extremely well, from what I’ve observed?” She batted her fan at his arm, her eyelids closing to mere slits, like a cat waiting at a mouse’s hole.
“As do you, my lady.” He took her hand, so petite in his large one, and gazed into her angelic face. “I wonder if you can save me from another season of balls and parties and the eternal flirting and courting of ladies I have no interest in.” A gentle squeeze of her soft skin set his pulse snapping. “I need a sweet, beautiful, intelligent woman like you, cousin, to help me find my way.”
“What are you talking about?” She pulled her hand from his, her blue eyes wide and wary. “You are up to something, Halford, as usual. Remember, I have known you since I was in leading strings.” She stepped back, fan raised to ward him off.
He laughed. Celinda had never been one to fall for a handsome face or flattering line. “My father has decreed that his heir produce an heir before he cocks up his toes.” Hal backed away from the railing. One never knew how far a voice might travel.
She followed him, still holding the fan en garde. A fleeting glance at the dancing couples and her attention turned to him. “Is he ill?”
“Not that he’s said. He certainly looks robust enough to achieve his century.” Hal wouldn’t mind that. His father had always done well by him, and he’d grown rather fond of having him around, except for his latest lunacy. “I suspect it is either a strange whim, born of some chance article in the Times, or else his cronies at his club have been talking about their heirs having been leg-shackled and setting up their nurseries.” He shuddered. Marriage might be palatable, but offspring while he was still in his prime didn’t sit well at all.
“Can you not simply tell him you haven’t found the right woman?” Celinda’s sympathetic tone encouraged him.
“Unfortunately, no. He’s like a horse with the bit in his teeth. I’ve been given the ultimatum of finding a bride by the end of the Season, or he will arrange a marriage for me.” To even speak the words made his blood run cold. His father was the last person on earth he wanted choosing his bride.
“And you want to marry me?”
He wasn’t sure how to take the strained incredulity in her voice. “I think we would suit better than most couples. We’ve known each other all our lives, as you pointed out. Our families would quite likely declare a national holiday, or try to.”
She giggled at that. So much the better.
“We do get on well. You have to agree. And you take my eccentricities in your stride.” He gestured to his shirt and smiled. “That alone makes me want to marry you.”
She averted her eyes, he
r mouth puckering.
Was she about to laugh or cry? He leaned toward her and grasped her hand, determined to press his suit. “Lady Celinda, will you do me the very great honor of becoming my wife?”
After one stricken, blue-eyed glance, she burst out laughing. She turned away, and her white-clad shoulders trembled as she got herself under control.
Not the response he’d hoped for, certainly, but he wouldn’t let it dampen his spirits. It had been a spur of the moment gamble and would have been a convenient answer to a worrisome problem. He hoped the music masked Celinda’s hysterics. It wouldn’t do for them to be discovered thus, especially as she’d now rejected him.
“Halford, I’m sorry.” She faced him, biting her bottom lip. Her eyes, bright with tears of laughter, also held a trace of sadness. “Truly I am.”
“It’s quite all right,” he said, assuming an injured air. Let her feel guilty, for a moment at least. “I am used to ladies laughing in my face when I propose.” Actually, he’d never proposed to anyone before, but she couldn’t know that.
“I am sorry for that outburst, my dear. Can you forgive me?” She laid her hand on his arm and drew him to a bench set against the balcony wall. “I simply did not expect such a declaration from you, of all people.”
“Well, I trust you do not respond so to every man who asks for your hand.” He tried to look sternly at her, but it kept wanting to turn into a lopsided grin. Apparently, he couldn’t be harsh to Celinda.
“As you have the distinction of being the first man ever to do so, I have to answer yes.” She smiled and squeezed his arm. “Halford,” she said as they sat, moving a little away from him and withdrawing her hand. “I am not unaware of the great honor you have done me by asking me to be your wife. And I hold you in the highest regard. You are handsome, witty, kind. Everything a woman would want in a husband. However, I need to have a passionate regard for the gentleman I choose to spend my life with, not merely friendship.”
Her Perfect Gentleman: A Regency Romance Anthology Page 52