The viscount slapped him across the face. It had been years since his father had laid a hand on him, but it had not lost any of its sting.
“Now, now,” Lady Haywood said, standing between them. “Please, let’s be civil.”
“He means nothing to me!” the viscount said.
“From here on, I renounce the name Wingrave.” A weight lifted from around his heart. He no longer had to pretend to love the man he had no blood relation to. He was free to do what he chose, to love whom he wished.
The Haywoods, all three of them, his father, and even Isabelle, all sharply inhaled. Only his mother, and Lionel, seemed unfazed by the proclamation.
A trembling Isabelle inched up beside him. “Are you certain?”
In answer, he held her hand.
“For a servant girl?” Lord Wingrave roared. “All this over a maid? Whose maid is this?”
“I am Lady Elizabeth’s maid.”
“Elizabeth? Who is she?”
Theodosia entwined her arm through Lionel’s. “She was my maid.”
“You fell in love with your future wife’s maid?” Lord Wingrave barked.
“So I did.” The admission was easy for Adrian to make.
“Father, Mother, I know this isn’t the life you picked out for me, but I love Lionel. I want to spend the rest of my life with him.”
The earnestness in her voice seemed to move her father. “Owen, my dear friend, it seems our old promise will have to be dissolved,” Lord Haywood said. He had one hand on his wife’s shoulder, the other on his daughter. “We give you our blessing, if you two are certain this is what you want.”
“We are,” they answered together, and Adrian could not tell whose voice sounded louder or happier—Lionel’s or Theodosia’s.
“But-but … ” Lord Wingrave sputtered.
“Our debt will have to be settled another way. Perhaps … ”
The lords continued their conversation, but Adrian tuned them out. The matter no longer concerned him. He and Isabelle approached the other loving couple. “Good luck with everything,” he said.
Theodosia hugged him, then Isabelle. Lionel and he shook hands until Adrian pulled him close for a one-armed hug.
“You’ll be invited to the wedding,” Theodosia said, her blue eyes shining. “The both of you.”
“New Year’s?” Adrian asked with a sly grin.
“Yes.”
His smile stretched from ear to ear. “We might already be married by then.”
“Oh? You’re eloping!” Theodosia turned to Lionel. “Yes, let’s.”
“My parents, and yours, deserve a proper wedding,” he said slowly, but his grin matched hers.
“They don’t need to know we’re already married.” The lady’s enthusiasm was infectious.
Isabelle clapped her hands as best she could while still holding onto Adrian’s. “A double wedding!”
Adrian loved her happiness. Even so, he had to ask, “You do know what marrying me means. We have no place to live. I am a lord no longer.” Never was. He’d save that story for another day though. “We need more to survive on than love alone.”
“The Lord will provide. Perhaps, if you do not mind demeaning work, Lady Elizabeth’s family could employ the both of us.”
Lionel coughed slightly. “This Elizabeth, does she have red hair? Favor me?”
Isabelle stared at him and nodded slowly. “Yes, actually.”
“She is my sister. I am most grateful for you not marrying Theodosia and for giving her to me. I am sure my parents will love her as well and agree to the match. And they will be just as grateful. There is a small cottage on our property. It needs a little work but no one has use for it. You two could live there.”
“We would have to work to earn it,” Adrian said, not wishing to accept such a gift without something in return.
“Only if you live there while you earn it. You have given me so much … ” Lionel gazed at Theodosia the way Adrian had to assume he looked upon his Isabelle. “Allow me to give some in return.”
“Very well then.”
His mother approached and pulled Isabelle aside. He could not hear their intense conversation, but they were both crying and his mother was touching his future wife’s cheeks. Perhaps one day soon, they could invite Lady Wingrave into their humble cottage. Once it was proper enough to receive a lady.
And so, the next day, Lady Theodosia and Lord Lionel, and Adrian and Isabelle stood before a priest and soon were married in a modest private ceremony. This Christmas season was the start of love and happiness for the quartet that lasted their lifetimes. The Yorks were elevated to baron and baroness a few years later, and the Hopes, as Adrian and Isabelle had claimed as their new surname, entered the class of gentry. Even so, they lived simply, needing nothing more than their love and the hope that tomorrow would be just as wonderful as today.
I would like to thank everyone who has encouraged me over the years to keep on writing and to never give up. Thank you to everyone at Swoon Romance, you all are amazing, and I couldn't be happier. To the WrHAMs, you gals make me laugh until I cry and always have my back. Without you, I would have been lost. To the Indie Ignites, I love how supportive you all are and how willing you all are to lend a helping hand. To my husband and amazing boys who put up with me when I'm cranky from staying up late to write or edit. Thank you for believing in me. And thank you to my readers. May your TBR shelf never be empty!
Nicole Zoltack
Nicole Zoltack loves to write in many genres, especially romance, whether fantasy, paranormal, or regency. When she’s not writing about knights, superheroes, or zombies, she loves to spend time with her loving husband and three energetic young boys. She enjoys riding horses (pretending they’re unicorns, of course!) and going to the PA Renaissance Faire, dressed in garb. She’ll also read anything she can get her hands on. Visit Nicole online at http://www.NicoleZoltack.com or http://NicoleZoltack.blogspot.com.
More Holiday and Seasonal Romances from Swoon Romance
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Author Acknowledgements
About the Author
More Holiday and Seasonal Romances from Swoon Romance
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