Roses are red
Violets are blue
My heart is full
With loving you.
She smiled and held out her arms to him. With half a dozen paces, he was encircled in them. “And my heart is full with loving you. Don’t ever stop writing me love notes. I treasure them.”
“Never.”
Violet kissed the note and added it to the blue-ribboned bundle in the drawer beside their bed. “Our lovechild is exhausting me. Will you hold me while I sleep?” She snuggled into his arms, her heart full of love and hope for the future.
Sebastian’s embrace tightened and he pressed a kiss to her neck, sending delicious tingles through her. “Happy Christmas and happy first anniversary, my love.”
***
I hope you enjoyed Violet and Sebastian’s story.
Read on for a preview of Married by Christmas
London, 20 December, 1818
Lauren Edwards gathered her paisley shawl around her, slipped her aunt Hester’s spaniel from her lap, and stepped down from her uncle’s carriage onto the pavement outside Madame Lemaire’s dress shop on Bond Street. Her aunt followed.
Just days before Christmas, the street was teeming with Britain’s social elite, eager to purchase the best of everything. If Lauren didn’t have an appointment for the last fitting of her bridal gown, she wouldn’t choose to be here amongst such a crowd. By far she preferred the peace of the countryside rather than London at its busiest.
In the doorway of the dress shop stood a beautiful blonde woman dressed in the height of fashion—red redingote edged with white fur, her bonnet a masterpiece of floral ornamentation and her white fur muff covering one hand. Her other hand rested in the crooked arm of a gentleman who held open the door for her.
Instead of exiting, her escort tugged her back into the empty foyer of the dress shop, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her. The kiss was not an affectionate peck on her cheek or even a buss on her mouth, but a complete ravishment of her lips.
Lauren halted before the open doorway, stunned by the passionate scene before her. A gasp escaped her mouth before she could stop it. Her stomach froze colder than an ice from Gunthers.
The man was very familiar to her.
And why wouldn’t he be?
He was the Earl of Lulworth, her fiancé.
Lauren’s hand clapped over her mouth to stop the scream welling in her lungs from bursting forth.
Was this his mistress? She hadn’t known he had one. Had never suspected!
The frozen lump in her midriff expanded.
Aunt Hester tugged at her elbow, trying to haul Lauren’s leaden body into the crowd and away from the scene.
No! Lauren shook her off, stretched out a trembling hand, and pushed the door open wider.
The amorous couple leaped apart.
Lulworth recognized her. His jaw dropped, and his face flushed.
His astounded look might have made her laugh at another time; now, she just wanted this scene over. “I presume this woman is your mistress?” Her voice was a forced whisper. Good Lord, how could she get the words out at all?
“Ha! And what of it?” He drew the woman to his side and raised his chin to peer down his nose at Lauren with all the haughtiness a peer of the realm could display.
Aunt Hester dragged at Lauren’s arm. She shook her off again without lowering her gaze from Lulworth’s frigid gray eyes. “And do you have any intention of giving up your liaison with her?”
