Page 60 of My Dark Duke

Lillian smiled at his antics; Barty’s playful personality was the chalk to his cousin’s cheese.

“I do not wish to abscond, Mr Beaufort,” she assured him, as he walked down to meet her at the bottom of the steps.

“Very good,” Barty said cheerfully, as he offered her his arm. “Don’t tell him I offered you a last-minute reprieve, or I shan’t last to see you wed. This way, Miss Hamilton; I have been given the great honour of delivering the beautiful bride to the gruesome groom.”

Barty led the way up the steps of Thorncastle House. In the entrance hall, the servants were lined up in a guard of honour. They each bowed or curtsied as Lillian passed, adding to her feeling she was dreaming.

Barty halted outside a set of double doors and gestured for Polly to enter first.

“Tell him to look lively and no slouching,” Barty winked.

He waited a moment, until he was certain their arrival had been announced, before turning to Lillian and offering a flourishing bow.

“I have the honour of addressing you as Miss Hamilton for the final time,” he said, somberly. “I would like you to know it means the world to me. You have brought Sebastian a happiness he thought himself incapable of ever possessing - and for that, I am forever grateful.”

Lillian felt her eyes grow misty, at his heartfelt words. Barty observed this and gave a rueful chuckle. “La! I did not mean to make you weep. Come, let us away; I cannot deliver you to Thorncastle whilst sobbing, or he might decide to throw a punch my way.”

He offered her his arm again, which she took with a light hand. As he pushed open the door to the drawing room, she saw it was flooded with bright, morning light. For a moment, she could not see Sebastian, but then her eyes adjusted to the brightness, and he came into focus.

He stood at the top of the room, towering over the vicar. His expression was one of impatience, but it softened the moment his eyes met Lillian’s.

She was home.

The ceremony passed in a quick blur; after what felt like mere minutes, the vicar pronounced them man and wife, to great cheers from the small audience. Afterwards, they dined on a luscious breakfast, which the staff had prepared.

Lillian and Sebastian sat at the head of the table, side by side, as their guests - who included Polly, Michael, Barty and his father, and the Duke of Falconbrigde -dined on cold salmon, eggs, and bread. The breakfast was followed with a heavy fruit cake and glasses of sparkling wine to toast the happy couple.

“Here’s to love,” Barty cried, his cheeks pink as he raised his glass in a fifth toast. He was, Lillian realised, in his cups.

“Here’s to whoever has to deal with you when you sleep the wine off,” Sebastian answered, raising his own glass which he had not refilled. “And to all of you for bearing witness to our union. I am deeply appreciative that you chose to spend this day with us - however, my wife and I shall soon have to depart, if we are to reach Hampshire before dark.”

With that, the farewells began. Lillian exchanged a misty-eyed goodbye with Polly - which was rather ridiculous, for she would see her when she returned to London, as Polly was to stay on as her lady’s maid. Barty, likewise, was equally teary - though Lillian suspected the sparkling wine had played a part.

At last, they were ready to leave and Thorncastle took her hand to lead her to the waiting carriage.

“Alone at last,” he sighed, as he climbed in after her.

“It has been too long,” Lillian agreed.

Out of superstition, she had asked him not to stay in Berkeley Hall until the wedding. The three nights they had been apart made her regret her whimsy, but tonight they would be reunited as man and wife. And not a moment too soon; she longed for him; longed to touch his skin, to feel his arms around her and feel him move inside her. Her desire was so great, she decided she might not be able to wait until darkness to feel his touch.

She opened her mouth to suggest they might begin a prelude to their wedding night right there, but Sebastian spoke first.

“I have warned the driver to go slowly,” he said, as he fussed about, placing a blanket across Lillian’s knees. “And to avoid any visibly bad patches of road.”

“We shan’t make it out of London, if that is the case,” she chortled, but quietened when she saw the worry on his face.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him, taking his hand in hers. “We are driving across the country in a well-appointed carriage, you haven’t booked me a ticket for the roof seat on a stagecoach.”

“I just want to be certain you and the baby are safe,” he answered, half apologetic. He drew her towards him, so she was nuzzled against his chest. “Rest up, it’s a long journey.”

Lillian wanted to object, but she rather thought her idea of having a slightly more amorous cuddle might fall on deaf ears. Besides, she had not slept much the night before, and the idea of a nap was most tempting…

The drive to Hampshire took the best part of the day; by the time they arrived at Chawton, the sun had set, and Lillian’s bottom ached terribly.

“We’re here,” Sebastian commented, as the carriage turned off the main road. He pulled back the drapes on the windows, to afford her a view of her new home. Even in the twilight, the view took her breath away.

As they approached, along a gravel path with manicured lawns either side, the house loomed large against the violet sky. It was a two story building, built of flint, with stone dressings. It’s many mullioned windows were lit up like beacons against the night, welcoming their new mistress.

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