by Wendy Vella
Bridgette wrinkled her nose. “As I have no wish to experience any of these emotions, I shall simply remain a spinster.”
“Very wise,” Lord Wooller said, reaching across the carriage to pat his daughter’s hand. “Men can be very tiresome at times, Bridgette.”
“But you are a man, Papa.” Bridgette giggled.
“I am excluded from that statement, child.”
Hannah’s feelings for Alex had been something of a revelation to her over the last few weeks. She felt so much for him now it terrified her. She had experienced jealousy several times when Alex danced with other women, and hated herself for it. She longed to have him touch her again, feel his body on top of hers, which was unsettling… and then there was the love. Good Lord, it seemed to encompass her now. When he walked into a room her heart sighed, when he smiled at her, her knees went weak, and when he told her he loved her too, often she wanted to weep. It was disconcerting.
“Hannah, don’t frown on your wedding day, dear.”
“Sorry, Phoebe.”
She hoped these turbulent feelings eased when she was married to him. Surely they would when she was exposed to him daily?
“The carriage has stopped, Hannah, now take a nice deep breath for me,” Phoebe said, taking her hands and squeezing them.
“Yes, Phoebe.” Hannah nodded and then inhaled deeply, expelling the air in a whoosh. “I have never been this nervous before.”
“You do look like a princess, Hannah.”
“Thank you, Bridgette.”
“You and Phoebe go first now, and Hannah and I shall follow,” Lord Wooller said as the door opened.
Hannah looked at the people gathered on the street outside St. George’s and realized that it must be full inside. Gripping her father’s arm, she walked forward slowly at his command.
“It’s all right, love, everything is going to be wonderful, I promise you.”
“I know it will be, Papa, and thank you for making this day so special.”
“For my precious girl, nothing is too much trouble, and your sister is right, darling, you look like a princess.”
Phoebe had designed her dress. In ivory silk, the bodice was fitted and the skirts long and straight to the floor, the sleeves reaching her elbow. Over the top was a delicate lace jacket that cut away at the front, exposing the satin skirt and falling into an elegant train behind. It was beautiful, and Hannah felt like a princess in it. Her hair was pulled onto her head and pinned in place; she wore three matching lace bands as adornment.
Nodding and smiling as Phoebe had told her she should, she soon reached the stone steps and walked up with her father. Entering the church seconds later, she heard the music that would guide her to Alex. Just the thought gave her strength. He was in there, waiting for her.
“Nearly there, love,” her father said as they began the walk up the aisle. She felt eyes on her from those seated above and below, but she saw only Alex, who had turned to watch her.
He wore white trousers and shirt, a deep gray jacket, and an ivory-and-crimson striped waistcoat. He looked magnificent, Hannah thought, and he had given his heart to her. She managed to nod at his brothers before moving to his side.
“How lovely to see you here,” he whispered, which made her giggle.
“And you also.”
Hannah felt her nerves ease as the ceremony began, and when she had to speak her vows she said them calmly, knowing that she would walk out of there today as Mrs. Hetherington. When they were declared man and wife, Alex took her shoulders and kissed her softly.
“I love you.”
“Oh, Alex, I love you too,” Hannah said, looking up at him. “So much.”
“Excellent.” He smiled before leading her back down the aisle.
Ben, Phoebe and Finn, and Lord Wooller congratulated them first, followed by the rest of their family and friends.
“Bella!” Hannah cried when her friend waddled toward her. “I cannot believe you came.”
“Of course I came.” They hugged as best they could. “Luke wanted me to remain at home, but I assured him I was more than capable of spending a few hours from the house. You look beautiful, Hannah.”
Hannah watched Luke Fletcher approach. He placed a hand on his wife’s back, and where once she would have been jealous, now she was not, as she had a husband who would do that to her.
“We shall make our way to Woolly’s now, Bella, where you can sit, and stay seated for the reception.”
“Luke, don’t fuss.”
“I like fussing,” he said, and then leaned forward to kiss Hannah’s cheek. “You look beautiful, Hannah, and congratulations.”
“Did you just kiss my wife, Fletcher?” Alex arrived at her side and placed a hand on her back, and Hannah almost purred.
“I did, and now I must get my wife to our carriage before she gives birth in the street.”
Hannah moved closer to her husband as together they watched them walk away.
“Are you leaning on me, wife?” Alex brushed a kiss on her head.
“I am husband.”
“Excellent. I like the idea of you leaning on me. I wonder how soon before you look like Bella?”
“I believe it takes nine months,” Hannah said, her heart fluttering at the prospect of a child.
“We shall have to get in a great deal of practice then.” The naughty words were whispered in her ear.
“What was that?” Hannah tried to see over the guests to where the loud cry came from.
“I believe Bella made that noise, love,” Alex said, leading her forward. “If my guess is accurate, we may have more than our wedding to celebrate soon.”
Esmay Fletcher was born twelve hours later. Her father was said to be quite undone, and Bella was tired, but faring well. The news was delivered to Hannah via Alex, who found her wandering about in his small garden the morning after their wedding.
“Hello, wife,” he said, pulling her into his arms and kissing her soundly. Thus far Alex could say married life agreed with him. Having Hannah close at hand was a marvelous thing. He had woken with her in his arms and after pulling her on top of him, he’d proceeded to kiss her breathless before making slow, sweet love to her. He knew there would be moments where they’d wanted to strangle each other, but those only added to what would be a wonderful life together.
“Hello.” She was picking flowers in a simple day dress, and looked so sweet he had to kiss her again.
“Bella and Luke have a daughter, named Esmay after Luke’s mother. Both are doing well, although Finn said that Luke was touch and go.”
Hannah laughed and then tucked a white bloom into his lapel.
“I think we should be studious in our practice for making a child, Alex.” Her eyes were filled with sultry promise, and Alex felt his body respond.
“I think that is a very good idea, Mrs. Hetherington.” Swinging her up in his arms, he walked back into the house… their house, which now, with Hannah in it, had suddenly become a home.
THANK YOU!
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• Here's a sneak peek of Duchess By Chance, a Regency Rakes Romance.
DUCHESS BY CHANCE
“If you have no care for yourself, Duchess, then at least care for your mount!”
Eva spun so quickly in the saddle, she tumbled straight off Posy and landed on her bottom. She heard curses as she struggled to draw in the breath that had been knocked from her body.
“Give me your hand.”
Bracing them behind her, she ignored the duke and scrambled to her feet. Mortified that she was dressed in breeches and had fallen in front of him, she reached for the saddle, preparing to remount.
“Are you hurt, Duchess?”
Shaking her head, she busied herself with collecting the reins
“Then perhaps you can address my earlier concerns.”
Realizing that ignoring him would incite his anger, Eva reluctantly turned to face her husband. He, too, had dismounted, although she doubted it had been in such a spectacular fashion.
“I have been riding these paths for over two months now, Your Grace. Posy was quite safe.”
Dark brows lowered as he scowled down at her. Unlike her, he was once again impeccably dressed in grey breeches, black jacket with polished boots, and a neatly tied neckcloth. The only thing not in order was the hair that stood off his head.
“You rode through those trees too fast, madam. There could have been more fallen branches in your path.”
“I would never put Posy in danger, Your Grace, and I apologize if you thought otherwise.”
For weeks, Eva had lived without the constant knot of anxiety in her stomach that had plagued her most of her life. The fear that at any moment someone would take her to task had been absent and she had reveled in that freedom…until now.
“It was folly for a woman to ride in such a manner.”
She didn’t want to be intimidated by the duke. He would not hurt her. Hadn’t she believed that after the night he visited her room? The words they had spoken then had been open and honest.
“You think a woman is not as competent as a man in the saddle, Your Grace?” Be quiet, Eva. Don’t antagonize him.
“A woman is not as strong as a man, Duchess, even if she is riding astride.” His eyes ran over her legs as he spoke and her discomfort increased. What must he think of the way she was dressed?
“Strength does not necessarily determine skill.”
“Are you suggesting you are a more skilled rider than me, Duchess?”
“I would be foolish to suggest such a thing.” Eva reached for her saddle, eager to finish the conversation and head back to Stratton.
“Foolish because I am a man and you know I am more skilled or foolish because I am a man whom you feel threatened by?”
Eva gripped the leather so tightly, her knuckles went white. He was trying to provoke a response from her, but she refused to answer such a loaded question. Putting her foot in the stirrups, she was about to pull herself up when two large hands grabbed her and tossed her onto Posy’s back.
“Accepting defeat, Duchess?”
His taunt hit its mark. “I have no need to brag over my accomplishments, Your Grace, nor do I willingly seek to incite your anger. However, I will say that my skill in the saddle has never been tested, as I have never felt the need to do so.” Turning Posy before he stopped her, she headed quickly back down the hill. Eva had all but called him an arrogant braggart and had no wish to wait about for his reply.
He caught her as she thundered through the trees and rode alongside her back to Stratton. She did not look his way, but felt his eyes upon her.
Tibbs waited for them as they entered the stables. Stopping before him, she then kicked her feet from the stirrups and prepared to dismount, but again, the duke was there and reached for her. Her heart thumped painfully as he lifted her off Posy and placed her gently on the ground before him.
“We will address the matter of your recklessness another time, Duchess.”
That made her chin lift. “I was not reckless. Now please excuse me, Your Grace.”
He didn’t release her immediately, but pulled her closer.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
He kissed her, just a soft brushing of his lips over hers, and then he eased back, leaving her breathless.
“We will also address who is the better rider when time allows us to do so, Duchess, and I will add, once again, that you are under no threat from me and I would never use force against you.”
“I…I must go.”
He released her and she walked calmly from the stables, even though her heart fluttered and her skin felt warm and all she wanted to do was run away from the large, disturbing male behind her.
She tried to push the memory of the kiss aside as she entered the house.
Why had he kissed her?
Duchess By Chance- out now
OTHER BOOKS BY WENDY VELLA
Historical Romances
Regency Rakes Series
Duchess By Chance
Rescued By A Viscount
Tempting Miss Allender
The Langley Sisters Series
Lady In Disguise
Lady In Demand
Lady In Distress
The Lady Plays Her Ace
The Lady Seals Her Fate
Novellas
The Lords Of Night Street Series
Lord Gallant
Lord Valiant
Christmas Wishes
Stand Alone Titles
The Reluctant Countess
Contemporary Romances
The Lake Howling Series
A Promise Of Home
The Texan Meets His Match
How Sweet It Is
Cover graphics by Seductive Designs