Page 71 of The Earl’s Hoyden

“I’m intrigued.” Elizabeth rubbed her hands together eagerly.

“Me too.” Hannah broke the seal on the envelope and extracted a letter, leaving a folded item inside that appeared to be made of very thin paper. She unfolded the note and read it aloud.

“My beautiful bride, you have made all my worldly wishes become a reality. This is perhaps the only way I can think to repay you—by making one of your worldly wishes become a reality as well.”

Elizabeth gave a little squeal and kicked her feet in excitement.

“I imagine a fortnight or so several times a year for you and your friends will be a delightful reprieve from daily life. Please note that the kitchen will be fully stocked with whatever Miss Honeyfield may require.”

Hannah looked up at her friends in surprise at the curious statement.

“An art room has been prepared for Lady Jillian. A music room has been equipped with a commendable number of instruments for Miss Beauchamp and a library filled with novels like Pride and Prejudice for Lady Elizabeth. There is also a phaeton for you, my love, to spirit through the countryside.” Hannah cried out the word “phaeton,” never having dreamed she might own such a swift, fine carriage.

“Thank you to your friends for sharing you with me. The least I can do is return the favor. I am forever in their debt.”

With the final sentence read, Hannah pulled the folded item from the envelope. The deed to Rosewood Manor, located near Kent, was written in the name of Hannah Lambert.

In addition to a lifetime of love and happiness, Lucien had also given Hannah her manor with her friends, a place for them to go and always be themselves. Though something told Hannah that she would never again have to be anyone she wasn’t when it came to her husband.

The women stared at one another in stunned silence at the enormity and consideration of such a gift.

“He has certainly made breaking the pact worthwhile,” Hannah said with a wide grin as her friends rushed forward to embrace her.

A knock sounded at the door, and Mary entered. “My lady, the carriage is ready.”

Hannah stood straight and tall, her heart so full she wondered how it could fit in her chest. “And I am too.”

There was no doubt in Lucien’s mind that Hannah enjoyed her gift. Upon the arrival of her carriage, she and her friends erupted into the sunlit morning and raced toward him with excited squeals and a cacophony of gratitude.

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to see you in your gown before you walked down the aisle.” He grinned and gazed at the stunning woman who was to become his wife.

“The whole point of the country is that we get to make our own rules and be out of the eyes of those who would judge us.” She slowly turned to show off her gown.

But it wasn’t satin and muslin that his eyes feasted upon. It was the narrow waist, the sweep of her red hair off her long, graceful neck and the fullness of her bosom. These months they held off marrying had been worth it to have the marriage of their choice, but other parts had not been so easy.

Stolen kisses in moments of brief privacy, no matter how passionate they might be, only served to whet his ever-growing appetite for his soon-to-be wife. He wanted to grab her by her tiny waist and draw her against the wall of his body, to make her cry out with pleasure as she had done that time at Vauxhall Gardens.

She slipped into his dreams and lingered in his thoughts through the day. Finally, once they had properly celebrated their wedding, she would be his.

As she faced him once more, the glittering of crystals on her gown seemed inconsistent—as random as the stars. He studied them a moment, pointing to three gems placed in an evenly spaced line. “Is that…”

“Orion’s belt.” Hannah beamed at him. “It is. Almost all the constellations are there.”

And they were, the gems winking in a perfect mirror of the night sky.

“Do you like it?” Hannah asked with a smile, knowing full well he would.

“I love it.” He caught her by the waist and spun her about, pausing to kiss her. “And I love you.”

Someone cleared their throat. He glanced over to where Hannah’s maid watched them sternly. “Oh, come now, Mary,” he beseeched.

She lifted her nose in the air. “No more kisses until you marry her, my lord.”

Lucien winked at Hannah. “It seems there’s nothing for it but to make you my wife.” He offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

She accepted. “We shall.”

He led her to the small church and deposited her with Lord Westwich before going inside to wait by the altar for Hannah.