Home > Mistletoe and Mayhem(153)

Mistletoe and Mayhem(153)
Author: Cheryl Bolen

She shook her head. “It was different with me. My marriage was meant to break my willful spirit. Father said my reckless behavior made me worthless. He increased my dowry to entice Hadley to take me.”

“Bollocks!” He’d like to punch her father’s teeth from his lying mouth. “The union with Hadley helped garner support for one of your father’s men to win a seat in the House of Commons. You are not worthless, far from it.”

A hint of a smile tweaked her lips. “I never said I believed him. It is an accurate recitation of what he said, but Hadley was honest about the arrangement. He wanted to ensure I wasn’t being coerced into marrying him. After that conversation, I entered into the union willingly.”

“I’m happy you were not broken, Bess. Your spirit is what I love most about you.”

“Do you love me?”

“I haven’t reached that part of my speech yet, but yes, I love you, Bess. I’ve known since our first kiss.” He stood then bowed on one knee. “With every ounce of my heart, I know you are the only woman for me. Will you marry me?”

“Julius—”

“Please, don’t think about it. Just say yes.”

“Are you—?”

“Yes, I am.”

She huffed. “You don’t know what I was going to ask.”

“No questions,” he teased.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake. Am I allowed to make a speech at some point?”

“None needed. I don’t require a bunch of pretty words. Just one, and it starts with the letter Y.” He waggled his eyebrows.

She laughed. “Yes! Are you happy now?”

With an undignified whoop, he bolted from the floor and lifted her in a hug, raining kisses on her face—plump mouth, cheeks, stubborn chin, the tip of her nose. Every lovable part of her. When he lowered her feet to the floor, she held on. Her nails caressed the back of his neck, sliding into his hairline. He closed his eyes to bask in the warm tingles spreading down his back.

“Will you allow me a few more words?” she murmured.

He pressed his lips to her forehead and inhaled the familiar scent of her soap. “Always, my love.”

He sensed her smile rather than saw it. “I love you, too.”

A slow, lingering kiss filled with promise sealed their fate.

“I should find Gemma and explain,” Bess said when the kiss ended. “She will be wondering why she didn’t hear about our betrothal before the toast.”

“To be fair, she learned about it the same time you did. Perhaps my parents can host a surprise wedding, too.”

She chuckled as he opened the door to escort her into the corridor. He collided with Clive; Bess squeaked.

Julius’s brother stepped back and tugged his ear, as was his habit when surprised. It was the reason he never won at cards, and Julius and their siblings argued over who had to partner with him—all in good fun, of course.

“Er, sorry to interrupt,” Clive said. “A, um… A rider arrived with a message. Ammie is in labor. Mother charged me with gathering family. We leave in half an hour.”

Bess squeezed Julius’s arm. “I should search for Gemma. Come see me when you return. I’m eager to hear if you have welcomed a new niece or a nephew to the family.”

Her answer gave him and Clive a small jolt.

“Bess,” Julius said, “you will learn the sex at the same time we do. I’m not leaving without you.”

Clive agreed. “Mother said to gather family. If you don’t come, she will send Julius back for you.”

“But…” She worried her bottom lip. “If the marchioness said family, surely, she didn’t mean me.”

Clive feigned a glower aimed at Julius; a glimmer of mischief brightened his eyes. “I did find it odd that a fine lady such as yourself would agree to marry my brother. Tell the truth. Is he blackmailing you?”

A laugh burst from Bess. Julius uttered a mild curse directed at his brother.

“I assure you, Lord Treyhurst,”—she leaned into Julius and smiled into his eyes—“I am a willing participant.”

Clive shrugged. “There is our answer. You are part of this family whether you like it or not.”

“I like it. Immensely,” she said. “I must gather my pelisse and leave a message for my cousin before we go.”

Julius, unable to take his eyes off his betrothed as she walked the empty corridor with her quick efficient steps, remained in her thrall until she disappeared around a corner.

“A Christmas baby, eh?” Julius mused. “Ammie will have a hard time besting this year’s gift for her husband.”

“Speaking of gifts—” Clive drove his fist into Julius’s upper arm.

“Ow!” Laughing, he rubbed his throbbing shoulder. “What did I do to deserve such vile treatment?"

“After the hard time you gave me about becoming trapped in the parson’s noose, I should have been the first to hear about your betrothal.”

Julius didn’t dare admit his brother had been first to learn the news—along with Bess, Julius, and every other person at the table.

He crossed his arms. “You must have me confused with someone else. I would never disparage the holy sanctity of marriage.”

They bickered back and forth until Bess reappeared at the end of the corridor with her pelisse draped over her arm.

“You see, dear brother,” Julius said. “Unlike you, I am the marrying kind.”

Clive scoffed. “Since when?”

Julius nodded toward his captivating, challenging, kindhearted Bess. “Since her.”

 

 

Epilogue

 

 

Bess held her breath. Julius’s mouth was agape, and his comically wild eyes were fixed on the fist headed for his nose.

Contact was made.

“Boing!” Julius’s booming voice startled Graham, their darling six-month-old nephew. His vivid blue eyes—the same shade as his father’s—flared before he erupted into deep belly laughs.

Bess’s heart expanded with love until she thought it might burst. Julius, her extraordinary husband, never ceased to amaze her. From one moment to the next, she couldn’t predict what he would do, but she always knew she would fall deeper in love with him because of it.

Bravely, from his mother’s lap, Graham extended his chubby and undeniably slobbery hand to bop Julius’s nose again. Her husband jumped as if surprised. “Baa!”

Graham, squeezing his eyes closed and laughing, rocked forward then flung himself backward as if his uncle was the funniest man in the world.

Julius’s sister cradled her son, slowing his descent and saving him from cracking his head on the sofa’s armrest. With a satisfied sigh, Graham stayed on his back, staring up at his mother with a one-toothed grin.

“You are full of mischief and mayhem, aren’t you?” Ammie swept his auburn hair from his forehead and bent forward to kiss his plump baby cheek.

Julius met Bess’s gaze across the room and raised his eyebrows. “I might want one of these someday. Who knew babies were fun?”

Ammie touched the tip of Graham’s nose.

“Dah!” The baby’s screech turned into more peals of laughter.

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