Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,100

smiling at the mirror. “Glad you kept the biggest one. Your da would be that pleased.”

A single diamond in a setting of gold twinkled at her throat.

Something old and very precious.

With Artie and Ben crowded in the carriage beside her, she put aside her own butterflies, and relished their joy. At the church steps, Artie handed her out with grave dignity. In the vestibule, a Loughton Manor footman took their cloaks, then Willa made one final tweak of the gown and slipped through the sanctuary door behind Lady Loughton.

Every nerve in her body came alive and she paused, searching for her composure again. She had no cause to be nervous, and all the reason in the world to be excited.

George, bless him, had secured a common license so they could marry at his village church, with her boys and his family present.

“What are we waiting for?” Ben grabbed her hand.

Artie frowned up at her, his face filled with concern. “Are you ready, Mother?”

Perhaps he was worried she would change her mind. Her serious little earl had already begun asking George about investigating for ore.

“I am.” She kissed both of them, slipped her hand over Artie’s arm, and stepped through the sanctuary door.

Eager faces turned toward her, the pews jammed with people, both great and small. The whole village was in attendance.

And at the altar, George looked her way, a smile blooming on his handsome face, warming her all the way to her toes.

She glanced down at her boys’ astonished faces, and laughed.

And walked down the aisle to her waiting groom.

Later that evening…

Downstairs, while the Twelfth Night festivities with family, neighbors, and friends continued, George and Sophie slipped away, leaving the boys in the care of their grandmother, and sending Willa back to the party below stairs.

When the door closed on the maid, George shed his coat and pulled Sophie into a kiss, all the while working the fastenings of her gown.

She backed away, laughing, her bodice slipping. “Tired of waiting, are you, Mr. Lovelace?”

He breathed a kiss on her neck that made her shiver. “Are not you, Mrs. Lovelace?” he murmured.

Since Christmas Eve, George hadn’t done more than kiss her, though the kissing had been quite thorough.

She clutched his hand and stepped out of her gown and the stays he’d loosened without her noticing. “Tired of you making me wait, yes.”

“Impatient, are you?” He waggled his eyebrows, unbuttoning his waistcoat, tossing it aside, and doing the same with his neck cloth and shirt until he was down to his trousers. He propped his hands on his hips and puffed out his handsome chest. “Mayhap that was part of my strategy, Mrs. Lovelace.”

Desire simmered along every nerve, squeezed the breath from her lungs, heated and pooled until she was ready to welcome him.

She eased out one comb and then another, and another, watching him, as he watched her.

“Your strategy sir,” she said raking her hands through her hair, “is working.”

In a flash, he shed the rest of his garments—and made hers disappear also, and then carried her to the bed.

“My dear, Sophie,” he murmured, “my dear darling wife.”

And then he kissed her, and there was no more need for words.

The End

About Alina K. Field

Award winning and USA Today best-selling author Alina K. Field earned a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English and German literature, but prefers the much happier world of romance fiction. Though her roots are in the Midwestern U.S., after six very, very, very cold years in Chicago, she moved to Southern California and hasn’t looked back. She shares a midcentury home with her husband and her spunky, blonde, rescued terrier.

She is the author of several historical romances and romantic adventures, including the 2014 Book Buyer’s Best winner, Rosalyn’s Ring. Though she’s hard at work on her next series of historical romances, she loves to hear from readers!

You can find details of her work at

www.AlinaKField.com

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RESCUED BY A RAKE

by

WENDY VELLA

Miss Ivy Redfern’s life is thrown into turmoil when her brother disappears five days before Christmas, and with him her family’s funds. Determined to find Jackson, she seeks help from his old school friend. Mr. Haddon is everything Ivy is not: popular, socially connected and devilishly handsome! Ivy vows her association with him will achieve only one thing – her brother’s release – and there will be absolutely no chance she will fall in love with him, unlike the other simpering society ladies.

When Rory Haddon agrees to help Ivy Redfern he is determined to do so his own way.