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“Oh, that,” she said, eyes lighting up. “I thought perhaps that was a matter reserved for masquerades and wardrobes.”

“No, for every day,” he managed, but he scarcely tasted her before she bowed upward, a shudder rocking her body and a hoarse sound breaking from her lips. He stayed with her through every quiver, until she took a shuddering breath and calmed.

Then he moved up and asked, “Livie?” A question, because she might have changed her mind—had the right to change her mind.

She opened eyes, slung her arms around her neck, and asked again, “What next?” Her voice was dazed with pleasure, yet eager for more.

Starting with another long kiss, he taught her what came next, beginning with cautious, slow thrusts, then deep and long, until she caught the rhythm and began arching to meet him. By then he was burning with impatience, sweating and panting; he pulled back and tilted her hips, plunging home again.

Her ripe mouth opened in a wanton cry that he only just caught with his lips. His large hand closed on her bottom and pulled Livie snugly against him, drinking in her feverish delight until they exploded together in a shuddering, uncivilized burst of pleasure.

Afterwards, they lay entangled, damp and overheated, grinning at each other like fools because they had discovered something astonishing: a pleasure so fierce that it could be experienced only with the right person. Only when life gives you the greatest gift of all.

“I would happily throw away my career for you,” Joshua said, sliding one finger down her damp cleavage, admiring the curves of her breasts, even though lust had been temporarily burned out of him. “I would throw away the world for you, Livie. I don’t care if you’re a footman’s or a traitor’s daughter. The only thing that matters in my life is you.”

Her smile was lazy, replete … tender. “And I don’t care that I’ve stolen you from a duke’s daughter. You’ll never dance in Almack’s again—and you’ll never become an earl, for I intend to make Frederick give up his brandy.”

Joshua would have said there was no room for any more joy in his heart, but it turned out that there was. A few minutes later, when she flipped onto her stomach and laughed at him over her shoulder, it turned out that lust wasn’t burned out of him, either.

He pulled on his clothing at dawn, leaving a blissful lady sprawled on the bed. Her last kiss sustained him through a long day of difficult conversations, beginning with a meeting with Lady Wharton, who was outraged when informed that their marriage must occur immediately; she sharply told him that she expected wanton behavior from her daughter, not her niece. From there, he went to the Tower to meet with Captain Sir Tyron, who had finally realized he was in serious danger. The man not only expressed disinterest in Livie’s future, but informed Joshua that he needed her dowry for his legal defense, and thus Joshua should expect to receive “nothing but a shameless libertine” from this betrothal. Next, Joshua met with his own father, who proved incredulous at the idea that his son would refuse to marry the daughter of a duke, let alone that he’d propose to the daughter of a murderer.

And finally, long day over, he found Frederick in the library. His brother toasted his escape from Regina’s clutches with a swig of the very best brandy. “Livie is the best sort,” Frederick said, putting down his bottle. “She looks civilized, but she’s not, is she? She’ll go with you to war.”

Joshua nodded. “Fair warning, she plans to take away your brandy and marry you off so that I never inherit the title.”

His brother snorted, but if Joshua had to bet, he would back Livie every time.

Joshua did not sneak back into Wharton house that night nor did he climb a convenient tree outside Livie’s window … Instead, he bought a special license and married his lady two days later.

Much to the scandal and fury of polite society.

Especially Lady Regina.

EPILOGUE

Ten Years Later

Livie hopped over a puddle, fell short, and swore under her breath—an unladylike habit she’d picked up during their years in Spain, where the sun shone daily, and no one paid attention when one of the “Lady Grenadiers” cursed.

“What’s the matter, Mama?” Sara called, as she jumped the same puddle. “Are you feeling the cold in your bones?”

“I find the mud tiresome,” Livie offered, smiling at her seven-year-old daughter. In truth, though, it was the city she found tiresome. While abroad, she had ignored the tenets of propriety that had mattered so much to Captain Sir Tyron.

She’d been free to try new things and seek new experiences without fear of reproach, whether from society or her father. Not that his opinion mattered at this point; the captain had died of an apoplectic fit on learning that he was almost certainly going to be convicted of manslaughter.

“You’ll be used to the rain in a few days, Mama,” Sara proclaimed, not without justification. “See, it’s stopped sprinkling. Now Nanny will take me to Hyde Park to play with Thomas, and you and Papa can nap, the way grownups do.” On her third birthday, Sara had proudly consigned naps to adults and babies.

“Mi preciosa,” Livie said, tweaking one of her daughter’s curls.

“Thomas will be waiting for us!” Sara cried, trotting down the sidewalk, her red leather boots sending rainwater splashing. She loved her cousin Thomas, Daisy’s son, as much as she loved her little brother—perhaps more, because Freddy was too young to do more than give his sister a gummy smile.

“Slow down, Sara,” Livie called. “I can’t run while holding the baby.” Freddy was tucked in a sling that polite society would find outrageous—almost as outrageous as a lady swearing under her breath, or speaking in Spanish, for that matter.

In the last decade, as she and Sara had followed Joshua wherever the military sent him, Livie had readily adopted practices that English ladies abhorred, such as nursing her own babies and making dear friends amongst women of all ranks. With Joshua absent for days or weeks at a time, she and the other Lady Grenadiers had befriended Spanish women who taught Livie the language and inspired a love of coffee and dyed leather.

In fact, now that Joshua had resigned his command and the family had relocated to England, Livie meant to begin importing red leather boots and perfumed leather gloves for ladies—and perhaps for gentlemen brave enough to start a fashion rather than follow it. In the last decade, Daisy had become a successful entrepreneur, much to the shock of her mother, and she had promised to teach Livie everything she knew.

They rounded the corner onto Green Street, where Joshua had purchased a large townhouse only a few blocks from his father’s house. Lord Paget still attended the House of Lords daily, but he loved having his grandchildren close by.