Anthony woke with the sunrise, the dewy rays entering the window in cool sheaths as he untangled himself forlornly from Sarah Jane. He has recently discovered that as much as he would like to have stayed with her in bed, he needed to procure a special license for them to marry in as much haste as they can.
In that infamous carriage ride, the duchess had offered to ask her husband, none other than the Duke of Ravensdale himself, to get one for him, but Anthony had declined, for the sole reason that he earnestly believed that Sarah Jane deserved a proper wedding. And a proper wedding will take another three months, which now seems absurd, because Anthony did not think he could last that long.
He looked at her sleeping form lovingly and resisted the urge to drop a kiss on her forehead in fear of waking her. Although she slept soundly through the night, Sarah Jane was rather easy to awaken.
With a last backward glance, Anthony quietly slipped away from the room and left a note beside her.
Sarah Jane woke in a disconcerting cold. Her hands sought for her beloved and found that she was alone. Her eyes blinked against the sunlight as her hands purchased a rough slip of paper from Anthony's side of the bed. She rubbed her eyes as they struggled to adjust to the brightness and refocused to read the note.
---
My love,
Please take your breakfast and I shall see you, eagerly, this afternoon.
Yours,
Killsworth
---
Sarah Jane smiled, clutching the letter to her chest while she celebrated the warm feeling produced by his signing of his name with "yours." Could it be possible for someone to be this happy? This mind-blowlingly excited and elated and fulfilled all at once?
After several more musings and lazy stretches, Sarah Jane had quickly dressed and eaten her breakfast peacefully while she wondered why the house had grown so silent.
She was just about to settle into a comfortable chaise in a cozy drawing room with a book when arguing male voices echoed throughout the hall. Within just a few moments, these voices matched with familiar faces, and their large male bodies filled the room with their demanding presence.
"Sarah Jane," Anthony greeted her warmly as he was being shoved by a perturbed Duke Ravensdale.
Sarah Jane eyed them curiously. What are they doing?
"My felicitations, my lady." His grace, the Duke of Creston greeted her affably as he moved towards the center of the room. "Our apologies to have come like this, but our wives have been meddling behind our backs, and we've come to escort you and Killsworth to Wiltshire for your wedding."
Sarah Jane's eyes widened. "What do you mean your wives were meddling?"And Wedding, now?
"My wife, mostly." Ravensdale chimed in, although not half as cheerful as Creston.
Anthony took a seat next to Sarah Jane, patting her hand as if to mutely say to pay these gentlemen no mind.
Ravensdale cleared his throat, "I am sure you are acquainted with my wife. She had blackmailed me to force my hand in meddling in your affairs, in which you can be safe to assume that I had no interest in doing before last night." He took his seat, crossing his legs on a large chair. "Be that as it may, I am here now as she left me no choice."
Within minutes, Lady Killsworth was in the drawing room, her face betrayed a mixture of curious and alarmed expressions. She nodded to the gentlemen and proceeded to take a safe seat on the edge of the set.
"To what do we owe this pleasure, your grace..." she then looked at the other duke, "and your grace?" Lady Killsworth inquired and casually indicated that she had rung for tea as well.
YOU ARE READING
Teasing Your Wicked Heart
Historical Fiction[Reached # 2 on Regency and # 1 on Austen] After the death of her father, Lady Sarah Jane is passed around her inheriting cousins and uncles as the tolerated ward no one wanted to care for. Years later, when the last of her relatives passed, and wit...
