Chapter Twenty-One

B yron awoke, each day seeming to be a good one now, thanks to having let go of the idea of wedding Jacinda Bowles. He realized now how misguided his actions had been.

And how he had almost missed out on the love of a lifetime.

Of course, he hadn’t told Mirella that he loved her yet. He had tried to let her know in other ways. In the way he looked at her. How he treated her. The courtesy and respect which he showed her and her family. He told himself that he did not want to rush her or force her into a marriage with him.

He had even waited to kiss her again. The tension building between them as each day passed was palpable.

Today, he would kiss her. Declare his undying love. Ask her to be his wife.

Not a day had gone by that he had not seen her during the last two weeks. Of course, they saw one another at ton affairs. Byron knew their names were coupled by others. He had also visited the Seaton household every single day. He had taken tea with all those who lived in the house, as well as a more intimate tea with only her mother and stepfather present. Lady Mirella had played the pianoforte for him on several occasions, and each time he was in awe of her talent.

Tomorrow, he had been invited to the christening of Sophie , the new ship which had taken two years to be built. It was named after Her Grace and would be the crown jewel of all the sailing vessels at Neptune Shipping Lines, the shipping company owned by the Duchess of Seaton. He knew the invitation had been extended to him because the duke and duchess already looked upon him as family. All the household treated him thus, and Byron was ready to make it official.

He arrived at the Seaton townhouse an hour before tea was to begin, hoping to gain a few moments with Mirella, away from her callers, so he might declare his affection for her. Mrs. Andrews had asked him to come take tea with them today, and he had readily agreed to do so. Lady Mirella’s mother was one of the kindest women Byron had ever known. He already thought of the babe she carried as family to him.

Dursley, the footman, admitted Byron. “Good afternoon, Lord Bridgewater.”

“No use in seeing me to the drawing room,” he said, smiling. “I believe I know my way by now.”

“Lady Mirella is not there, my lord,” Dursley informed him. “She is practicing in the music room. She said you were to be brought there when you arrived. If you would follow me.”

Byron did as requested, and the footman tapped lightly on the door and opened it, announcing him.

“Lord Bridgewater is here, my lady.”

He caught sight of her sitting at the pianoforte, wearing a gown of soft green. She smiled.

“Please, come in, my lord. Thank you, Dursley.”

The footman stepped aside so Byron could enter the room, and then the servant closed the door behind him.

They were alone.

His heart sped up as he moved toward her. She rose, and he took her hands, raising them both to his lips, kissing each one.

And not releasing them.

“Why are you here and not in the drawing room so that you can visit with your callers?” he asked.

She grinned. “You may have noticed that the number of gentlemen calling upon me has dwindled. I stopped the slow trickle and made it known that I would not be entertaining any suitors today. Or any other day.”

Now, his heart slammed against his ribs. He stepped toward her, releasing her hands and pulling her into his arms.

“Why on earth would such a beautiful creature do that?” he said, his voice low and rough.

“Because I only want to see you, my lord.”

Her honest declaration moved him. Byron saw her love for him shining in her Strong eyes. He bent, softly brushing his lips against hers.

Lifting his head, he said, “Then it makes what I wish to say easy.”

He paused, knowing there would be no going back after he spoke the words she longed to hear. It didn’t matter, though. He didn’t want to have that life.

Byron wanted a new life with this woman, one the two of them would build together over the years to come.

“I love you,” he said. “I have loved you since Grasmere. Fool that I was, I still doggedly pursued the idea of making Jacinda Bowles my wife. I knew we would both be unhappy in the marriage, but I was trying to bring to life the vision my father had of what our family should look like.”

He gently kissed her. “But my heart always belonged to you, Mirella. It did from the start. I hope you can see a life with me because it is the only life I wish to lead. I love you more with each passing day. Please tell me you love me, my darling. That you will promise to be my marchioness. My friend and lover. Mother of our children.”

Her eyes misted with tears. “I lost my heart to you at Grasmere, my lord. You have been its owner all these months. Not me. I do love you. So very much. I want a life with you. I want to share everything with you. Especially children.”

“Then I will be the happiest man each day from now on,” he told her. “And not only will I love you until the end of time, I will tell you I do every day of our lives. I only ask one thing of you.”

“What?” she asked breathlessly.

“Call me Byron. Aunt Flora and Uncle Hugh do when we are alone.”

Her radiant smile stole his breath. “I believe I can do so, Byron.”

His name on her lips sounded like heaven.

Tightening his arms about her, he said, “The only time you should call me Bridgewater when we are alone is if you are angry or upset with me. That will be my clue that I have done something wrong, and I promise I will right things between us.”

Her hands came up to cradle his face. “I will remember that, Bridgewater.”

He frowned. “You are already upset with me?”

“Of course, I am. Because you have yet to kiss me thoroughly, Bridgewater. So much that I cannot breathe. So long and hard that I cannot even think. So—”

He cut her off, his mouth seizing hers. A time for gentle, tender kisses would come.

Now was not that time.

Byron kissed her with all the love he felt for her. She eagerly returned his kisses, and they spun out of control. That subtle, floral scent which clung to her invaded his senses, driving him wild. He couldn’t wait for the time when she wore that scent—and nothing else—and was in his bed.

Her fingers pushed into his hair, tightening almost painfully, but he continued to kiss her. His tongued delved deep, investigating everywhere inside her mouth, leaving them both breathless. He broke the kiss, gazing into her cornflower blue eyes, thinking she was the very air he breathed. That she gave life to him and purpose for all he did.

He seized her mouth again with his, the kisses hard, wild, and demanding. Wanting more of her, he scooped her up, startling her, a rich laugh bubbling up as he went to a chair and sat, bringing her into his lap. Byron slipped one arm about her waist and used his free hand to capture her nape, bringing her closer until their lips touched. A sizzling desire flooded him as they continued to kiss.

His hand dropped to her breast, and Byron kneaded it, hearing her moans. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down the column of her throat, nipping it as he went. Dipping his hand into her bodice, he lifted her breast. Freed now, he licked the nipple, hearing her gasp.

Raising his head, he saw the dazed look on her face. “Do you like that?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, panting. “Very much. You should do it again,” she encouraged.

“I will.”

He took his time, feasting on her breast, sucking hard, laving the nipple, all as she squirmed and sighed. Byron lifted his head, blowing cool air on her nipple, seeing it stand at attention for him. He lowered his head, devouring her again, need for her growing with each minute.

Knowing he must stop, he grazed his teeth a final time against the nipple and eased her breast back into her gown.

“It feels larger,” she said in wonder. “My... breast.” Pinkening slightly, she added, “I never thought I would say that word in front of a man.”

He kissed her. “I am not just any man, Mirella. I am your betrothed. The man who will explore every inch of your body. I will touch you in places you have never dreamed of being touched. And you will like it.”

“I will like it,” she echoed solemnly. “Oh, Byron. I know I will like it. I like you . I had always wanted to love the man who became my husband, but I understand now that liking him is also important.”

He kissed her again, both of them laughing as they did so.

Breaking the kiss, he told her, “I like you very much, Mirella. And I love you more than I thought possible.”

She sighed, toying with the hair at his nape. “I believe love is the most marvelous thing in the world.”

He smoothed her hair. “I never believed that. I never believed in love. Until I met you.”

Kissing her tenderly, he thought of how wonderful their life together would be.

“I must stop kissing you now,” he told her.

“Why?” she asked, deliberately thrusting out her bottom lip in a pout.

“Because your lips are already swollen as it is—and we are due to take tea with your family soon. I don’t want them to know what we have been up to.”

She laughed, that musical sound that he would hear for the rest of his life. “Oh, Byron, they have come to tea frequently with swollen lips. They will understand. Especially after we share with them our news.”

He frowned. “Should we do so, Mirella? I thought I should meet with your mother and the captain. Or possibly His Grace before we said anything.”

“That is not necessary,” she told him. “We will tell them at tea.”

“If that is what you wish,” he said, kissing her again because he simply had to do so—or perish.

After a few more heated kisses, he stopped. Rising with her in his arms, he set her on her feet.

“It might be wise to go and wash your face. And secure a few stray locks that have come loose,” he advised.

She smiled at him. “I will do so. You can go to the drawing room. The others will be there soon.”

Mirella took a step away, but Byron caught her wrist, yanking her back to him. He kissed her again.

“Just something to tide me over,” he said, causing her to giggle.

This time, she captured his face with her hands and leaned up on tiptoe, kissing him.

“There. We are even.”

She left the music room, and he watched her go. Pride swelled within him. He found it hard to believe the most adorable, beautiful creature in the world had agreed to become his marchioness.

He thought it might be appropriate to have her family over for dinner to meet with his. Byron didn’t know if his mother had ever been introduced to Mirella. If not, it was time the two women met. Aunt Flora and Uncle Hugh would be so pleased at the news. He only hoped Mirella’s family would also be happy.

Running his hands through his hair to make certain it was tamed, he glanced down to see if he looked presentable. Byron went to the drawing room, a place he had visited many times, and found only Mrs. Andrews present.

“Ah, Lord Bridgewater, come and join me,” she said. “The others will be along shortly.”

He did so. “How are you feeling, Mrs. Andrews?”

Her hands went to her belly. “So, you know. I suppose others do, as well. I knew I would start to show once the Season got underway. I had told Mirella that I would go to all the events with her, but I may taper off. As it is, she has James and Sophie to escort her.”

“And me,” he volunteered. “I am happy to come to the townhouse and go with her to any event.”

She eyed him with interest. “In what capacity, my lord?”

“As her betrothed,” he replied.

Mrs. Andrews smiled, and Byron could see Mirella in that smile.

“I am so pleased to hear this, my lord.”

“I have only just asked her to become my wife. I had thought I should speak with you and the captain, but Mirella did not think it necessary.”

“No, my girl has always been one to know her own mind. The decision was always hers to make.” She paused. “I believe the two of you will suit admirably.”

“I do love her, Mrs. Andrews. I am only sorry I wasted a few weeks when I could have spent them at her side.”

“You learned from your mistake, my lord,” she assured him. Glancing up, her face softened. “Hello, my love.”

Byron turned, seeing the captain approach. He brushed a tender kiss upon his wife’s brow and took the seat next to her.

“Thank goodness I was able to stay at work this afternoon and not have to chaperone smitten suitors in the drawing room,” he grumbled good-naturedly. “With Sophie being christened tomorrow, there was more than enough work to do in the Neptune Shipping offices.”

“They are betrothed, Drake. Mirella and Lord Bridgewater.”

The captain beamed at Byron. “Congratulations, my lord. You have just made the best decision of your life.”

“What decision?” the duke asked, entering the room with his duchess and Lady Mathilda.

“Oh, please tell me the good news is a betrothal,” said Lady Mathilda.

He couldn’t help but grin. “It is, Aunt Matty.”

Suddenly, everyone was hugging him and shaking his hand. Even though Mirella would be marrying into the Balfour family, Byron felt so welcomed by these Strongs.

“You couldn’t wait?” he heard, turning to see his fiancée. Guilt raced through him. “It just... came out. Your mother could wrench secrets out of any French spy within minutes.”

She joined him, slipping her arm about his waist. “I am not angry. Just tickled that you blurted out our news.”

“How could I not?” he asked. “I am in love—and I want the entire world to know.”