He shifted in his spot and turned to face Grace, love and devotion shining in his depths. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “I’ll be better tomorrow.”
“And every day after,” he promised.
Veronicaand their mother had been beyond stunned when Oliver returned to Prestwood Place the night before and told them of his wedding the next morning. Ginny beamed from her place at the dinner table and Oliver was relieved to have her support. She’d even called for the gardener and asked him to have a bundle of Chiltern Gentian from Mother’s gardens snipped and made into a bouquet for Grace.
“Just because this is a hasty wedding,” Ginny began, “Does not mean she shouldn’t have everything any other bride would have.”
Of course she would have had a perfectly nice bouquet and décor at the church in Bradenham, but those had been meant for a different wedding to a different man; and Ginny wouldn’t have that.
Oliver refrained from stating that both Patience Campion and Hope Kilworth had enjoyed hasty marriages of their own. How could he when Ginny looked so genuinely happy and eager to help? So he let her fuss and plan, and he returned to his study to compose a letter that was most desperately required.
Dear Duke of Danby,
I do hope this letter finds you well and in good health. I have been composing this letter in my mind the better part of the day, and I fear I shall still not be able to express the gratitude that has swelled my heart.
Without your assistance, your forethought and your cleverness, Grace Post would have been lost to me forever. I am not sure my life would have been worth living without her. In fact, as I have spent many years apart from her, I am familiar with that existence, and it was not one I welcomed for the remainder of my years. You have saved me, Your Grace. You have saved us both.
There is nothing I could ever do to repay you for your assistance in this matter. I shall be forever in your debt and hold you in the highest regard.
Your Humble Servant,
For all theyears they had lived nearby, Grace had never attended services at the Prestwood parish church. The outside of the small little chapel was adorned in the same pretty purple flowers Lady Prestwood kept in her garden. Inside, it was filled with her family and with his, and despite the cloudiness of the day, everything was perfect, like a dream she never wanted to wake from.
Braden walked her down the aisle where Oliver was waiting for her, looking his most dashing. Her sisters, their husbands and their mother were seated in the pews across the aisle from Ginny, Veronica and Lady Prestwood. Quent, Lila and Callie, even in her very delicate state, were a few pews back. Everyone Grace had ever loved in her life was right there with her that day, and she could not have been happier.
As soon as she and Oliver repeated their vows, he raced her back to Prestwood Place and straight up the steps to his chambers. Grace could barely catch her breath, she was laughing so hard.
“This is how it was always supposed to be,” Oliver said as he pressed his lips to hers and lowered her back to her feet.
Grace kissed him back and breathed in the sandalwood scent of him. He was right. It always should have been like this. She should have married him four years earlier. They should have never been separated. They had so much time to make up for.
Oliver untied the sash around her waist and Grace tugged at the white cravat around his neck. “Doesn’t it feel like a dream?” she asked between kisses.
“Mmm.” He agreed as he shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it across the room. His waistcoat was quick to follow it. “Lady Prestwood,” he then tsked. “You are entirely too dressed.”
Lady Prestwood. She was the Countess of Prestwood, Oliver’s countess for now and always. “The buttons are in the back.” She pointed behind her.
“Allow me.” A wolfish smile settled on his face and then he spun her around. Oliver undid one button and then pressed his lips to her exposed skin. Then another button and another kiss. And again. And again.
A shiver raced through Grace. She remembered this, she remembered his lips exploring her everywhere, and she couldn’t wait to experience that all over again and find out what happened next, to be his in every way. Soon, her bodice sagged down to her waist and she clutched it to her chest to keep the muslin from pooling at her feet.
She spun around to face Oliver, her husband. Herhusband! It still didn’t even seem possible. “Lord Prestwood,” she tsked, “Youare entirely too dressed.”
He laughed and the warm sound reverberated through her. “Easily remedied.” He tugged his shirt over his head and sat on the very edge of his four-poster to tug off his Hessians.
He was so handsome. So strong, the muscles of his chest and arms. He was like a work of art.
Oliver glanced up at her. “Are you just going to stand there, watching me?”
Grace nodded with a grin. “I never thought we’d be here. I’m drinking it all in.”
He dropped one boot to the floor and then the next. Then he reached out and grabbed Grace around the waist and pulled her to him.
A surprised gasp escaped her, and before she even knew how it happened, he’d plopped her in the middle of his bed and loomed over top of her.
“Grace,” he rumbled her name. “I do believe it’s time to let go of your dress.”