“And now?”
“As bad as it was, it is now a thousand times better. All that I had never dared to even hope for.”
Brianna kissed the top of Lily’s head. “I am glad for that. You truly do love him, Lils?”
Lily nodded. “I do.”
“I am so sorry that I ever kept you two apart.” Brianna’s voice had softened to a delicate whisper. “I take all the blame for what happened a year and a half ago, and can only beg for your forgiveness, Lils. If I could go back to that time…”
“You would?”
“Yes. And change everything.”
“As would I.”
Brianna pointed to the bed. “Dr. Harrison—he was always a good, fine man. He saved me and I never gave him the proper credit for that. Never rightfully thanked him. Back then, after I awoke from the infection—I was not in my right mind. Not for a very long time.”
Her head turning, Brianna rested her chin on top of Lily’s head. “And you took care of everything during that time. Took care of me. I never did thank you for that either. Everything I have now—Sebastian included, is because of you, Lils. Thank you for that.”
Lily craned her neck, looking up to find her sister’s eyes. “You give me too much credit, but you are very welcome, Bree. I am happy you are happy. And I do forgive you.”
Lily could feel the sigh of relief run through her sister’s body. The edges of Brianna’s mouth stretched backward in silent gratitude. “Now we just need to make sure you are happy, Lils.”
Lily drew a deep breath, tucking her head onto Brianna’s shoulder again. “You should go to bed, Bree, go to your husband.”
“Nonsense.” Brianna’s hand came up, cupping Lily to the safe nook between her shoulder and neck. “I am absolutely right where I need to be at the moment.”
Lily sighed.
Her sister knew. Still knew exactly how to hold her, ease the fears that consumed her. Lily closed her eyes, a tear sliding down her cheek.
“Thank you, Bree.”
~~~
“How does it look?”
Lily’s head popped up, knocking off the hand that had been curled around the back of her neck. There hadn’t been enough room on the bed for her body, so she had dragged a chair next to the bed, settling herself with her head next to Garek’s upper arm.
His hand that slipped from her neck landed on his chest, his eyes half-open, drowsy as he watched Lily right herself.
“How long have you been awake?” Lily’s hands wrapped around his bare upper arm.
“Only a few minutes. I was not sure if you were truly sleeping or not.”
Lily glanced at the one window in the room. Daylight shone through the thin curtains. “I checked it an hour past, maybe two. The blood stopped late last night, and now there is pus.”
“Any color to it?”
“No. And no odor.”
“Veins started?”
“No.”
Garek nodded against the pillow. “Good.”
His eyes started to slip, closing. Lily watched, waiting to see if he opened his eyes again. His head nudged into the pillow.
“Wait. Garek. Do not fall asleep on me.”
His eyelids dragged open. “Anything you want, my love.”
Lily found her feet and shifted to the bed, balancing her backside along the edge by his upper arm so she could lean over him. She set one hand just above the covers onto his skin, fingers curling along the middle indentation of his chest. “I only want one thing, Garek. But it is selfish.”
He smiled. “I like that your list is so short, as I will not be moving well for a while. What is it?”
“To marry you. Now. The clergyman is downstairs, waiting.”
“No.”
Lily’s head snapped back, stung. “What?”
He grabbed her forearm before she could move away. “No. Do not even let your mind skirt into darkness, Lily. It is a ‘no’ because I want to stand at our wedding, hold you. Not marry you as an invalid in a bed.”
Lily groaned. “No. No pride, Garek. Do you want me as your wife?”
“Yes.” His hand came up, fingers trailing along her face from her temple to her chin. “Since the night I met you, Lils. Since before I even knew you existed and fate lost me in those woods to find you.”
She smiled, her palm capturing the back of his hand and clasping his hold to her cheek. “Then we are to marry now. I refuse to spend another minute without you as my husband. I understand these are short weddings, so you only need to stay awake and say ‘I do.’”
Garek’s eyes went upward, a beaten man. When they drifted back down to Lily, the green flecks within the hazel glowed, a small smile edging his mouth. “I may be proud, Lils, but I also would be crazy not to give you the world. And I am not a crazy man.”
Her smile widened so far she could hardly speak. “I will go fetch the clergyman and Bree and Sebastian. They have been keeping him captive for us.” She set his hand down onto his chest, getting up from the bed.
“Wait.”
Already halfway to the door, Lily spun back to Garek.
“Send the earl in first—he can at least help me with the courtesy of a proper shirt.”
Fifteen minutes later, Lily opened the door to the bedroom with Brianna and the clergyman trailing her.
Her slippered feet slowed to a stop.
Garek stood at the foot of the bed, proper trousers, crisp white linen shirt and a dark jacket draped over his shoulders.
Sebastian stood next to him, watching him carefully with his hands hovering at the ready to grab Garek should he start to fail.
“You should not be standing, Garek.”
His left cheek rose in a smile. “And you will not be marrying me while I am bound to a bed. You said this was short?”
Lily scampered into the room, waving her hand over her shoulder to the clergyman and Brianna. “Let us hurry this then. I do not want my husband to over exert himself.”
Lily sidled next to Garek’s open side as his half smile broke wide at her words. He grabbed her hand as he leaned down, his mouth brushing her ear. “I like the ribbon in your hair, Lils.”
Her eyes went up to him, smirking. “I went through your pockets.”
“It is perfect, Lils.”
His hand tightened around hers, solid, strong but gentle, just as he truly was. Had always been. A grip that promised he was never going to let her go.
She nodded as her smile softened, a complete sense of belonging, of raw happiness flooding her chest.
“As is this, my love.”
{ Epilogue • Marquess of Fortune }
One hand on the linen wrap around his wrist, Lily looked up, wiping the last fat droplet of a tear from the cherub cheek. “Tell me you will take more care in the future, Robby. And on the horse, truly? Was that necessary?”
The little boy wiggled on the wooden chair, shrugging. “Sylvia said it would be a good idea. She said we could learn about fire. How high we had to drop the flame from for it to go out. The horse was the tallest thing near us.”
Lily’s head tilted, her blue eyes in full scold. Garek ducked his face, hiding a smile from her as he slid his surgical wallet into his black bag. Experiments.
“And does Sylvia usually have ideas that do not result in injury?” Lily asked.
The boy shook his head.
“So the next time Sylvia has a fine idea you would like to experiment with, you will wait to ask Lady Southfork? Or if you are afraid to ask an adult you can always ask Thomas.” Lily tied off the linen and stood, rumpling the blond curls on his head. “Dr. Harrison and I will be gone from London for a month, and we will not be available to keep the lot of you mended and upright. So you will need to be extra careful. Promise me.”
“Yes, m’lady.”
“And you will keep Sylvia out of trouble?”
“I will try.”
“Good. A hug?” The boy wrapped his arms around Lily’s skirts and she squeezed his shoulders. “Of
f you go. We must be on our way.”
“Thank you m’lord.” The little boy threw the words to Garek as he scampered from the study in the Southfork’s London orphanage.
Stepping behind his wife, Garek slid his hand along Lily’s belly, his fingertips wide along the bump that had just started to harden within the last few days. “I expected him to ask you to sing to him again. I do believe that boy injures himself just so you will tend to him.”
Lily chuckled. “Possibly so. That one is a scamp. At least your hospital is open now, so I can worry less about all of them while we are away.” Her fingers tightened over his knuckles. “Did this delay us too long? I still need a few minutes to speak with Reanna as she had a letter for me to bring to Wynne.”
“No. Even if we lose a few days in travel, we should still be to Notlund in plenty of time for the birth.” Garek bent, setting his lips onto the irresistible spot on Lily’s neck just below her earlobe. “I did not get a chance to tell you before we were requested here, that word came this morning from the duke. Wynne is still doing well, walking about, not bedridden yet from the weight of the babe on her belly. And Brianna and Luhaunt arrived at Notlund yesterday from the stud farm they were visiting on the continent.”
Lily spun in his hold, wrapping her hands around his neck. “Good. I had hoped they would be back in time for the birth as well.” Her blue eyes went serious. “You will miss the children while we are away?”
“Yes.” Garek nodded. “This, working with the children, it is so different. Not to be surrounded by death constantly. I know Lord and Lady Southfork have said time and again how lucky they are to have us nearby for the children, but I am the lucky one.”
Lily smiled up at him. “I think you are speaking of me, my husband.”
“You are happy, my love?”
“Yes. Happy. At peace. With you. With our life.” Her hand dropped between them, rubbing her belly as her voice cracked. “With this one. Happiness that hurts my heart it is so profound. And you?”
Garek smiled, his throat collapsing as his hands cupped his wife’s face. He had no words that could cut through the pride, the joy that swelled his chest.
He nodded.
True since the moment he had met her, her happiness was his happiness.
And her voice still possessed the power. The power to take him to heaven and back.
~ From K.J. Jackson ~
Thank you so much for taking this latest trip back in time with me and be sure to check out the sneak peek below!
I found you and you found me—let’s not lose each other! Finding readers that like your work is hard, but if you’ve gotten this far, hopefully you liked the Lords of Fate Boxset and want to read more by me. Because of the constant changes in social media, the BEST way to keep up with my latest works is through my newsletter. So be sure to sign up for my VIP List for news of my next releases, sales and freebies. You’ll get my FREE starter library when you sign up—three full-length books!
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Don’t miss my other books
Historical Romance
If you haven’t already, be sure to check out my other historical romances—each is a stand-alone story and they can be read in any order (here they are in order of publication):
Stone Devil Duke, Hold Your Breath, currently free!
Unmasking the Marquess, Hold Your Breath
My Captain, My Earl, Hold Your Breath
Worth of a Duke, Lords of Fate
Earl of Destiny, Lords of Fate
Marquess of Fortune, Lords of Fate
Vow, Lords of Action
Promise, Lords of Action
Oath, Lords of Action
Of Valor & Vice, Revelry’s Tempest
Of Sin & Sanctuary, Revelry’s Tempest
Of Risk & Redemption, Revelry’s Tempest
To Capture a Rogue, A Logan’s Legends Novella, Revelry’s Tempest
To Capture a Warrior, A Logan’s Legends Novella, Revelry’s Tempest
The Devil in the Duke, Revelry’s Tempest
The Iron Earl, Valor of Vinehill
The Wolf Duke, Valor of Vinehill
Paranormal Romance
Flame Moon #1, currently free!
Triple Infinity, Flame Moon #2
Flux Flame, Flame Moon #3
~
A sneak peek of my next book, Vow, A Lords of Action Novel, featuring that dastardly virgin buyer, Lord Newdale…
{ Chapter 1 }
London, England
May, 1816
Putrescence infested his nostrils, invading upward, dulling his wits.
Unable to hold back any longer, Caine Farlington, younger brother to the fifth Earl of Newdale, pulled free from his pocket a small, round silver vinaigrette, flicking it open under his nose and leaning back. The half-rounded rungs of the rickety chair creaked, threatening to snap under his frame.
Casual. He had to portray casual even if he couldn’t breathe. It was crucial.
A long whiff of the spice and vinegar, and Caine dropped the vinaigrette from his nose, slipping it back into his jacket.
The sharp stench of sewer and rot instantly flooded his nose again. No reprieve.
He had been in a sufficient number of brothels in the East End in his day. But this. Nothing like this. Filth. Decay. Timbers half rotted above him, threatening to collapse at any moment. Liquid dripping down along the wall next to his head, even though it wasn’t raining. Half of the floor wooden planks, half of it indiscernible muck.
Squalor. A word that did not come close to doing justice to this devil’s den.
Caine let his elbow slip off the arm of the chair in slobbery drunk fashion as a barmaid clad only in an apron and thick skirts clattered two mugs onto the askew table. He made sure to move his hand slowly, missing the handle of the mug three times before making contact and lifting the tankard to his lips.
He swallowed a gag. Even the blasted ale was rancid in this place.
Fletch’s grey eyes shifted to Caine from across the table, the other tankard hiding his friend’s cringe as he swallowed. Good man. Caine hadn’t been able to let the vile liquid breach his lips. But Fletch did.
If anyone could play the role of gutter-drunk rakehell, it was Fletcher Williams, Marquess of Lockston.
Fletch’s left eyebrow cocked ever so slightly at Caine.
Caine knew his friend would be laughing at him if the business in this whorehouse weren’t so gravely serious.
That they had even gotten past the burly guards had been a feat. Drunk, a fool, he would have played any part to gain entrance to the auction. Caine had been terrified he’d missed it until they made entrance and found an open table in a dark corner, and he had recognized the place still buzzed in anticipation of the upcoming sale.
Caine’s eyes haphazardly swept the room. Bustling crowd—surely more crowded than this place saw nightly. Half-dressed women draped over disheveled drunks, a few of the girls slipping sticky fingers under jacket lapels to snatch coins.
But there were a handful of patrons sitting serious, sober, and impervious to the debauchery around them.
Those were the men Caine knew he needed to worry about. The sober ones. Here for a purpose—not just for the entertainment, the sport of it.
A ruckus started at the far end of the room by the bar that stretched almost across the depth of the building.
The bar ended just to the left of a door that flipped open. Caine could see it was an interior door leading to stairs. A tall man dressed in shiny peacock colors emerged, raising a silver-encased cane high in his hand. He tapped the cane on the top seam of his ridiculously tall, purple satin hat as he walked along the edge of the room, jumping onto the stage that centered the
room.
“Gentlemen, and to the rest of you scrubs, welcome. You have waited long enough. It is time we offer this night’s entertainment.” His arms swinging wide in flamboyance, the barker’s voice boomed over the laughter of the women and the grunts of the men in the room. His face cracked into a wide sneer—almost vicious—emphasizing the wide gap from four missing front teeth.
The man waited several beats for the crowd to quiet, then spewed with enthusiastic aplomb, “Virgins, virgins, virgins. I know you’ve been waiting. And let me assure you, these were worth the wait. Integrity, gentlemen. All verified to be clean and unspoiled by our own Ma Betty. Highest price, gentleman. You know the rules.” He paused, bowing slightly for effect before splaying his arms wide, his cane flourishing out to the side. “Welcome to the Jolly Vassal, lads—it be virgin time.”
The point of his cane landed to the right of the bar, and the door he had come through swung open again.
Caine’s breath stopped.
A hulking thug stepped through the doorway, pulling a rope with him. The room erupted, and a splattering of men in front of Caine stood, vying for a glimpse of what was attached to the rope.
Long seconds passed before the thug stepped up onto the stage, truly just a wobbly platform along the edge of the room. He tugged the rope as he stepped behind the barker.
Caine leaned far to the side, his breath still frozen. At least from this angle he could see most of the stage.
The rope snapped, dragging three girls single file up onto the stage. All three girls had the long rope tied about their waists, each of them clad only in a sheer, threadbare chemise that hid no skin from the eyes of the crowd. Heavy veils—almost hoods—covered the girls’ heads, hiding their faces from the room.
“Shit.” Caine hissed out his held breath. He had known the veils were a possibility—the mystery of the faces spurred higher bids, while hiding the tears and terror—but Caine hadn’t wanted to take the slightest chance. He couldn’t afford to. Not tonight.
Lord of Fates: A Complete Historical Regency Romance Series (3-Book Box Set) Page 77