"She isn't as pretty as you, Lucinda," the marquess said forlornly.
"No, but she has a kind heart and would love you if you would let her." Lucinda gave him her hand. "Goodbye, Hamlet."
"Bitch!" snarled the Duke of Rexford. "I am fortunate to have seen your true colors in time!" Then he turned and angrily walked away from Lucinda, the earl, and Lord Bowen.
They continued across the crowded room, finally finding the bishop.
"Get out the license, Georgie," Lucinda told her brother. "The name is Lucian Robert Charles Phillips, Earl of Stan-ton."
Startled, the bishop looked at the earl. "Luscious Lucian!" George Worth exclaimed.
"You know each other?" Lucinda said, surprised.
"We were in the same house at Eton, but Lucian was several years younger than I was. We called him Luscious Lucian because he was frankly the handsomest fellow any of us had ever seen. The women were mad for him, even as a lad of twelve. It has been years, sir!" Then the bishop looked to his sister. "This is the man you will marry? What has happened to the others? How did you meet?"
"Why, we met, Georgie," Lucinda said wickedly, "thanks to you, this summer, at Julia's. Lucian was there to look over some of Rafferty's hunters. We fell in love, but I didn't want to tell you because you so had your heart set on my giving the other three another chance. Well, I did, but I have decided that Lucian is the man for me. You had best make the announcement and marry us, for we are both eager to leave on our honeymoon."
Caroline Worth, who had been listening, wide-eyed, to all of Luanda's explanations, began to weep delicately. "This is the most romantic story I have ever heard. Oh, darling Luci, I hope you will be as happy with your husband as I am with mine!"
"Is it time?" The Countess of Whitley was at their side, looking most arch and very excited.
"It is time," the bishop replied.
"Who is it to be, Lucinda?" the countess demanded. "You must tell me before you tell the others!"
"Madame, may I present my intended, Lucian Phillips, the Earl of Stanton," Lucinda said with a twinkle.
The Countess of Whitley's mouth dropped open, her first chin bouncing off her other two chins. She gasped, and then she burst out laughing. "You minx!" she said. "You have kept all of society guessing between the duke, the marquess, and Bertram, and all the while you had another stud in your stable! Well, good for you, my gel! You have chosen, in my opinion-and here in London my opinion counts for everything-the best of the bunch. Make your announcement, George." She signaled to the orchestra, and they played a fanfare.
George Worth, the Bishop of Wellington, walked up to the bandstand and, turning to face the ballroom, said, "I should like to announce my sister's betrothal to Lucian Phillips, the Earl of Stanton."
There was a stunned silence, and then a collective gasp from those assembled. Then the Countess of Whitley spoke up, "And George is going to marry them right here and now! I will wager none of you has ever been invited to a ball and found yourselves at a wedding!"
Lucinda and Lucian stepped up before the Bishop of Wellington.
"I have three formal witnesses," the bishop said. "I shall need a fourth."
"I will be your witness," Lord Bertram said, stepping for-ward and standing next to Lord Bowen, the countess, and Caroline Worth.
Murmurs of approval arose from the audience.
"Such exquisite manners," a voice was heard to say.
"Damned good sport!" another voice said.
"We will begin, then," George Worth said. "Dearly beloved…"
They could not, of course, leave immediately after the ceremony although they certainly wanted to do so. They stood in a reception line accepting the congratulations of several hundred people in the ballroom. The king arrived, heard what he had missed, and laughed heartily.
"A very clever wench," he approved. Then he kissed the bride, giving her breast a little squeeze as he did so.
They danced several dances, and then, although it was absolutely unforgivable etiquette to depart before the king, slipped from the ballroom unnoticed. When they reached Traleigh Square, Lucinda sent the coach back to wait for her brother and sister-in-law. Then she led her new husband to her bedroom where Polly and John were awaiting them.
"I'll send over to Lord Bowen's in the morning for your things, m'lord," John said as he helped the earl to undress.
"Gawd almighty!" Polly whispered to her mistress. "He's gorgeous!" Then she gathered up her mistress's finery and hurried from the room behind her own husband, who was carrying the earl's garments.
They were alone. They were naked. They were eager.
"I believe John has fixed the wine correctly," Lucinda said, offering him a goblet. "To us," she toasted them, and they drank their wine down, setting the goblets aside.
Reaching out, he drew her into his arms and kissed her deeply, hungrily. Lucinda slid her arms about his neck, pressing her full breasts into his broad, smooth chest. Her tongue fenced with his tongue, then ran along his sensuous lips. She could feel his cock against her thigh. It was already hard and eager for her.
"I have missed you," she told him.
"Did you fuck them?" he asked her jealously.
"Only Rexford surprised me once and forced the issue," she told him honestly. "I kept him at bay after that. The others were perfect gentlemen."
"No wonder Rexford was bitter," the earl said quietly.
"Husband," Lucinda said, "all of that is in the past and behind us. I was a good wife to Harrington. I will be a good wife to you as well, my lord. No one has ever had cause to question my honor."
"Do you want to be fucked?" he asked her bluntly. One hand moved to tweak her nipple as he fondled her breast while the other pushed through her nether lips to tease at her little exciter. "Do you want to be fucked, my beautiful, clever wife?"
"Yes, Lucian, my wonderful husband, I most certainly want to be fucked! Are you going to spend the rest of the night just talking about it?" Lucinda demanded.
With a wicked grin he pushed her back onto their bed and, falling atop her, thrust his cock deep into her hot, wet love sheath, "No, my darling, I don't intend to spend the night talking about it," he told her. "I intend to spend the night doing it."
And so he did.
Risking It All by Susan Johnson
Chapter One
Monte Carlo, Easter week, 1896
Felicia Greenwood sat in the kitchen of her villa overlooking the sea, tearing the letter she had just received into shreds, casting aspersions on the writer in brisk, heated accents, then turning at last to her two servants, who watched with sympathy in their eyes. "And that's what I think of Cousin Dickie's advice!" She spoke in French, although her thoughts were still colored with a faint Scottish brogue.
"Your auntie disliked him, too." Her elderly housekeeper cum maid of all work offered in reassurance. "Tell Mademoiselle Felicia what the countess called him," she added, looking up at her husband, who served as the sole manservant in the establishment.
Daniel smiled at Felicia seated across the kitchen table. "She called him Monsieur le Prune and never listened to anything he said. "
Felicia's mouth curved into a fleeting grin, the description apt. Her cousin's mouth was always pursed in distaste. "Now, if only Cousin Dickie wasn't about to take Villa Paradise from me," she said with a small sigh, "I could ignore him as well."
"You still have a week to find the money."
Felicia's expression turned stricken. She had been given a year to come up with her cousin's required payment. Without success. "If only Auntie's funds were paying better dividends."