they raced about preparing for the ceremony.
And for Christmastide.
In the end, Logan had procured a special license and set the wedding for Christmastide day.
Penny had supported the decision. It seemed the perfect occasion to begin their new life together.
The girls each wore a matching gown of red velvet. Clarissa’s gown was in the same fabric, but had a much more sophisticated style. As Penny looked at her friend, she realized that the girl she’d grown to love like a sister had been replaced by a beautiful woman.
“Who else is attending?” Clarissa asked, looking toward the far wall.
Penny smoothed her skirts. “Just a few others. The Duke and Duchess of Darlington, the Duke of Devonhall, and the Earl of Baxter.”
Clarissa started, her hands clasping in front of her stomach. “Oh. I see.”
Penny pressed her lips together. This was a conversation they’d finish later. For now, she ushered everyone down the stairs and to the waiting carriages.
Logan was surely at the church already. Her pulse raced as she considered what they were about to do.
She would be a countess and he…would be the proud co-owner of several orphanages.
She grinned at that.
Not something he’d likely planned.
When the carriage pulled to a stop and the Duke of Darlington assisted her out of the carriage, he tucked her hand in his arm and whispered, “Are you ready?”
“I am,” she answered as the girls lined up in front of her.
Minnie took Natty’s hand and began leading the girls into the church. Penny and Darlington followed.
The smell of incense filled her nose as she glanced about to see holly and mistletoe decorations all about.
Logan stood at the front, his smile as big as hers felt.
It took every ounce of energy not to race down the aisle toward him. But when her hand finally slipped into his, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was home.
The vows were quiet, the words no less powerful for their soft tones. And when their lips met to seal their marriage, Penny felt joy burst from her chest.
“I love you,” she said as she pulled back, looking up into his eyes.
“I love you too,” he said, motioning for the girls to join him. Natty, Fran, and Ethel raced forward. Clarissa followed behind.
As the three girls careened into their new parents, Penny had no doubt this was the beginning of a bright and shiny future.
Earl of Baxter
Wicked Earls’ Club
Lords of Scandal
* * *
Tammy Andresen
* * *
July, 1815
* * *
War was glorious, Mason thought as he lay in the dank basement of some seaside church on the very edge of death. They didn’t tell one that, of course. That one was about to die. No, they said one was nearly better, recovery any day now.
He was too sick to tell them that they needn’t lie. He was prepared for death. He’d welcome it, in fact. Hell, he’d pushed so hard on the front because, and this wasn’t something a man ever said out loud, he’d wanted to die.
If he were honest, he should have never lived. Hadn’t his father told him that over and over on the rare occasions when he bothered to visit his bastard son? “You shouldn’t have survived. Should have died with your mother.”
Mason shook his head. He’d done his absolute best to make his father’s wish come true.
“There now,” a soft feminine voice crooned close to his ear. “No need to fret, you’ll be all right.”
“I won’t,” he answered, raising a heavy hand and swiping at his eyes. When he dropped his hand, he blinked open his scratchy eyelids to look at the woman who had such a sweet voice.
And his breath caught. He hadn’t thought himself capable of such a movement. His lungs expanded with the breath, drawing a deep gush of air—leading him to wonder if he’d died already and this was, in fact, heaven.
She had a halo of blonde hair, twisted back from her face with just a few soft tendrils falling about her cheeks, highlighting her large blue eyes and the soft pink tint that flushed her skin. She looked like the angels he’d seen in paintings in his father’s house, the one time he’d been allowed to visit.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, drawing in another long breath. He tried to raise his hand again and touch her face, but his arm wouldn’t work.
“Thank you.” She smiled at him, the look indulgent and amused. “But you’re a bit old for me.”
He might have laughed, if he could get the sound out. “How old are