Living London - By Kristin Vayden Page 0,64

her eyes in an unladylike fashion.

"Well at least now I won't have to constantly watch out for you at the parties," she remarked, baiting me.

"I was not that bad," I retorted cheekily.

"Yes. Yes, you were," she replied.

"Fine. I'm no longer your burden to bear." I stuck my nose in the air before I turned to Morgan. "I'm his." I pointed to his chest and pushed him slightly, teasing him. He grabbed my finger and pulled me closer to him, wrapping his hands around my waist as Amelia cleared her throat and glanced away.

"Yes, you most certainly are mine."

Chapter Nineteen

Weeks passed, and the banns were read, solidifying everything. By the day of my wedding, Arynna's vicious rumor had made Morgan and me the most sought-after couple in the ton. Invitations to our wedding had become more coveted than vouchers to Almack's. I sighed contentedly, twisting to see the long Grecian train that flowed from my empire waist. How I'd made it to my wedding day with virtue in tact was a mystery. Morgan had more than made up for his mistakes in kisses and sweet whispers that often made me blush.

"Jocelyn?" Amelia called as she knocked softly on the door.

"Come in!" I called to the new Lady Heath. Marriage had been good for her, even if it had only been a week so far. She and Lord Heath had chosen to remain in London for my own wedding before they left for Italy. I was thankful to have her there. Her presence settled my nerves, since she'd gone through the very same ceremony only shortly before.

"You look beautiful!" She gasped, clapping her hands as she walked around me. "I cannot wait to see Morgan's face when he sees you!"

"I'm so nervous… all those people staring at me," I confided, just wanting the whole ceremony over and done with so that I would officially belong to Morgan.

"Oh, the anticipation is far worse than the actual walk down the aisle." She spoke comfortingly. "As soon as you see your husband-to-be, everyone else will fade away."

"I love the way that sounds." Here I was, only a few minutes from heading to the church and walking down the aisle. It felt like a lifetime ago that I'd walked through the halls of the nursing home, checking on Nanna and saying goodbye to my last family tie. Now, here I was surrounded by friends, belonging to a new family and about to create my own. The thought overwhelmed me. Looking up, I sent up a prayer and asked God to thank Nanna for me. She'd known what she'd been talking about, though how, only God knew.

"It's time," Amelia said with a joyful expression.

"It truly is," I whispered, walking toward my future.

****

The wedding was grand, and Amelia's words proved true. As soon as I caught sight of my husband I was unaware of anyone else in the room. His eyes sparkled with fire and disbelief as I walked toward him. I had no one to escort me, so we broke tradition and he met me halfway, causing a stir within the crowd. I didn't mind. I'd been through far worse and survived.

Upon reaching me, he took my hand ever so gently and kissed it, never once breaking eye contact. "How I utterly adore you, Jocelyn," he whispered, only loud enough for me to hear.

"I'm quite fond of you too." I tried to tease, but the dark look he gave me left me incapable of carrying it out.

"Brilliant," he remarked, a rakish grin taking over his features as he quickly leaned down to kiss me soundly on the lips.

"Now," he crooned, "you're ruined." He smiled, turned, and escorted me down the aisle with titters and whispers overcoming the music. But all I could do was smile.

The wedding went flawlessly, besides the improper display of affection. It had scandalized the dowagers, but thankfully it was forgiven because they said it was owed after what had transpired in the not-so-distant past. Amelia couldn't wipe the grin off her face when she told me. She didn't stay for the wedding breakfast, and based on the hungry glances her new husband gave her, I figured I knew why.

Arynna was one of the only people not present. I had learned through Amelia that she had retired to the country early, creating gossip over why such a promising debutante would flee the London scene. Why indeed?

Morgan excused himself for a moment, and I walked about the room, nodding to each guest. The whisper of