Arabella gave a sigh of weary contentment. The entire day had seemed a pleasant whirl, but thankfully it was nearly over. In the morning, she and Marcus would embark on a monthlong wedding trip. They planned to tour Scotland and the Lake District in northern England, then spend time at the Pierce baronial family seat in Devonshire so Arabella could become acquainted with his estate and tenants there before returning to Danvers Hall.

Arabella eagerly anticipated both the journey and her wedding night with Marcus, since they’d had very little chance for intimacy or passion during the past month. The thought of finally sharing a nuptial bed with her new husband brought a private smile to her lips.

Lily evidently saw it, for she observed cheerfully, “I concede I was wrong to oppose your union with Marcus, Arabella. I have no doubts now that he will treat you as you deserve. It’s obvious he loves you-and that you love him. I vow you are actually glowing with happiness.”

Arabella smiled serenely. “That doesn’t surprise me. I never dreamed I could be this happy, Lily. I only wish you could feel half as much happiness.”

Lily laughed. “Well, I most certainly will not find it in marriage. If you have daughters, I will be content to play spinster aunt and teach them manners and deportment.”

Meeting Roslyn’s amused eyes, Arabella shook her head wryly. Lilian excelled at any kind of physical activity-riding and driving, archery, and dancing in particular-but manners and deportment were not her forte.

Both Lily and Roslyn would take on larger roles at the academy from now on. Arabella felt considerable relief, knowing the endeavor would continue to prosper. Not only would the school provide better futures for dozens of young lower-class girls, teaching them to become true ladies, but it would provide Lily and Roslyn satisfying occupations and independence, allowing them to continue earning their livings-although being penniless was no longer a concern after the generous settlement Marcus had made them.

Because he had also drastically improved their social status, Roslyn could now consider her own matrimonial prospects. Lily had no such desire. Even seeing Arabella’s newfound happiness was not enough to make Lily question her refusal to surrender her cherished freedom to a husband.

“Marriage may not suit you, Lily,” Arabella agreed with a fond glance.

Lily gave an unladylike snort. “I wish you would remind Winifred of that fact. Her attempts at matchmaking are driving me to distraction.”

“Matchmaking?”

“She is plotting the taming and capture of Marcus’s two friends. She claims they are in need of wives, and this evening she practically twisted their arms to coerce them to dance with Roslyn and me.”

Arabella couldn’t help but smile. Winifred would have difficulty ensnaring the two extremely eligible noblemen for her sisters or anyone else. The Duke of Arden and the Marquess of Claybourne were the bane of the ton’s marriage-minded mamas, even more elusive than Marcus.

“Winifred has singled me out for Lord Claybourne,” Lily complained in disgust. “It is utterly mortifying to be paraded before him like a prize heifer at a fair.”

Roslyn couldn’t resist teasing Lily a little. “Yet he is exceedingly handsome, in addition to being enormously wealthy and titled.”

“Oh, he is attractive enough,” Lily muttered. “But he is too arrogant for his own good, expecting me to fall swooning at his feet.”

Arabella raised an eyebrow. “Is that why you decided to leave the ball early? To avoid any further association with the marquess?”

Lily actually blushed. “Yes. I swear, I have never met a more persistent man. He is well beyond my abilities to deal with.”

When Roslyn couldn’t suppress her laughter, Lily cast her a scowling glance. “You may find my dilemma amusing, dearest sister, but you should have a care for yourself. Winifred will try to arrange a match for you with Arden next, for she said as much.”

“I am not worried,” Roslyn said calmly. “I have no interest whatsoever in marrying Arden.”

The unusual note of conviction in her voice surprised Arabella. “But you met him only this morning. Can you really judge him on so short an acquaintance?”

Roslyn hesitated. “To be truthful, I met the duke before today.”

Arabella gave her a measuring glance, while Lily asked, “When?”

“A fortnight ago,” Roslyn admitted, “when I attended the masquerade ball with Fanny. His grace didn’t know who I was, since I wore a mask and refused to tell him my name.”

“Rose, you never said you met him!” Lily exclaimed. “So what happened?”

An attractive flush rose to her cheeks. “Let us just say that I was not eager to further the acquaintance, even if he was.”

Like Lily, Arabella was highly curious to learn what had occurred between Roslyn and the Duke of Arden, but she knew there was no point in pressing the issue. Roslyn’s interests lay elsewhere, since she had a tendre for their neighbor, the Earl of Haviland. Fortunately Lord Haviland had attended the wedding celebrations today, so Roslyn was able to spend significant time in his company. Her determination to marry only for love necessitated that both parties actually have the opportunity to fall in love, so it behooved her to make good use of every encounter.

But rather than discuss her views on love and marriage, Roslyn promptly changed the subject. “Arabella, we had best go. Marcus will be waiting for you.”

At that reminder, Arabella rose to her feet and warmly embraced her sisters. Tears stung her eyes a little as they said their farewells. This was the symbolic end of their girlhood together, and she would miss the love and camaraderie they had shared. For so long it had been the three of them against the world.

And yet now she had Marcus. At the prospect of beginning her new life with him, Arabella felt her heart fill with excitement and eager anticipation.


When she went downstairs in search of him, she found Marcus emerging from his study. Her heart swelled even further at the tender look he gave her.

“There you are, love,” he said. “I wondered where you had gone.”

“I was saying good-bye to my sisters.”

“I just had a similar council with my friends.” Marcus glanced back at the study door. “Drew and Heath are still in my study, drinking my best store of brandy and mourning the loss of my bachelorhood.”

Arabella regarded him curiously. “Are you mourning the loss?”

“Not in the slightest.” He chuckled.

“What is so amusing?”

“Realizing how much I have changed in the past two months. I once thought matrimony was a sinister word, but no longer. Come, let us find our remaining guests and encourage them to leave. I want you all to myself for our wedding night.”

It was nearly two hours later, however, before Marcus got his wish. As the final carriages pulled away, Simpkin shut the front door and discreetly disappeared from the entrance hall, leaving the earl and his new countess to themselves.

“Shall we?” Marcus asked, offering her his hand to escort her upstairs.

“Yes,” Arabella replied, smiling serenely as she slipped her hand in his.

He interlaced their fingers as they mounted the stairs and negotiated the corridor to the lord’s apartments. A soft glow of lamplight greeted them as they entered his bedchamber, while the covers on the massive bed had been turned down invitingly.

Marcus closed the door behind them, shutting them inside.

“Alone at last,” he murmured huskily, drawing Arabella into his embrace. “I thought this day would never arrive.”

“I know,” she said fervently although her gray eyes danced with love and laughter. “You should be proud of yourself, my lord. You succeeded in winning our wager, just as you predicted.”

“Oh, I am. And I am impatient for our wedding night to begin.”

Arabella slid her hands up his chest and began to untie his cravat, her smile seductive and mischievous. “We celebrated our wedding night weeks ago, if you recall.”

His blood heated dangerously at that alluring smile. “Not formally. We weren’t wed then.” His gaze trapped hers. “But now we are. Now you are mine,” Marcus added softly.

“Yes,” Arabella agreed just as softly. “And you are mine.”

He saw so much tender emotion in her eyes that his heart turned over. “I’ll never let you go, wife.”

“Wife…I like the sound of that, husband.”

“So do I.”

They undressed each other slowly, taking the time to kiss and caress frequently. When they were both naked, his gaze locked with hers.

“No regrets?” Marcus asked.

“None whatsoever. I know our marriage will be blissfully happy.”

“I intend to do my damnedest to make it so.”

“I have no doubts.” She stepped into the circle of his waiting arms, her eyes radiant with love as she gazed back at him.

The sight made his breath catch and his heart thud. He had never expected to feel anything so powerful, so deep, for any woman. But he had no doubts, either, that his feelings for Arabella would last a lifetime. The love inside him was painfully strong; hunger and desire a sweet ache.

“So,” Arabella remarked teasingly, reaching up to twine her arms around his neck, “do you intend to show me what a marvelous husband and lover you are? I seem to remember you boasting about your amorous skills more than once.”

The words were an unmistakable challenge, one that Marcus couldn’t resist.

With a low laugh, he caught Arabella’s hand and pressed a tender kiss to her fingers, a solemn promise of loyalty and love. Then he led her to their marriage bed and drew her down, eager to begin their future together.