Page 59 of A Lady’s Rules for Seaside Romance (The Harp & Thistle #3)

A s Mr. Hickenbottom’s clerk shut the door behind him, Victor stilled upon seeing Anne and Mary standing in his solicitor’s office, with Mr. Hickenbottom himself.

“What in the blazes are you doing here?” he asked with utter shock. Anne and Mary should have been well along on their way to Brighton by now. Instead, Mary held clasped hands at her cheek and kept darting glances between himself and her mother.

Anne, meanwhile, kept fidgeting her hands together.

Admittedly, he was feeling quite fidgety himself.

He was so tired. So worn. He had just come from a brief visit with his grandmother and his grandfather’s solicitor.

It had all been very business-like. Marjory hadn’t had much to say except that she had already moved into the London dower residence and didn’t want him to or expect him to visit.

She’d had no apologies to share with him, no words of regret over their treatment of him as a boy.

No explanation of why his grandfather hadn’t wanted anyone—not even his peers—to know of his death until he’d been buried.

The man had hated fuss, so Victor had decided to blame it on that.

Between her wails, Marjory and the solicitor had simply laid out what properties Victor had to manage now that he was the Duke of Invermark, and had given him the contact information for those currently managing the properties.

Then he’d left. And, not knowing what to do with himself, he’d come here to tell his own solicitor what had transpired.

But, really, why was Anne here meeting with his solicitor?

Mr. Hickenbottom gave Anne a brief smile and hurried over to shake Victor’s hand. “Mr. McNab! Another pleasant surprise. Are you here for the same reason your wife is?”

Victor narrowed his eyes at the man. “What did you just say?”

Anne let out a nervous laugh. “Victor, what are you doing here?”

“My grandfather is dead . That’s what I’m doing here.

” His unexpected grief over his grandfather’s death, plus mourning the loss of Anne in his life, had made him snippier than he normally wished to be.

It physically hurt to be seeing her so soon after he’d told her they could never be in each other’s lives again. His heart ached from it.

It felt as if something had been ripped from his body when she’d left, and he was quite certain she’d taken his heart with her. Upon this thought, he finally met her eyes with his own. He stared, though he didn’t blink, and the emotions roiling inside him seemed to intensify with her presence.

Anne stared up at him with her gentle, pale eyes. Her cheeks were rosy, and her lips perfectly pink. This was why he couldn’t be around her any longer. Even amongst the storm that surrounded him, he wanted to claim her, he wanted that mouth of hers in the most loving, and most sinful, of ways.

Upon the news of the former duke’s death, Mr. Hickenbottom let out a very loud gasp, breaking Victor’s spell, then hurriedly bowed to Victor. “Your Grace.”

Victor groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

He hated the sound of that. But there was nothing he could do about it, either.

It was his life, his reality, his present and future.

“I’ve just visited with my grandmother and my grandfather’s solicitor.

I wanted to stop by and figure out… I don’t even know, what this means for my business, I suppose.

You’ve been my solicitor for a long time now. ”

Mr. Hickenbottom gave a polite nod.

“Do we continue working together?” Victor felt completely lost. “Frankly, I’ve been left in the dust by my grandparents and I’m picking up the pieces.”

“I understand,” Mr. Hickenbottom said with a slight bow. “Like you said, I’ve been your solicitor for a long time. I know your business inside and out. Does this other fellow know your business?”

Victor frowned. “No.”

Mr. Hickenbottom closed his eyes and placed a hand over his heart. “Then it’s settled. I remain your solicitor.”

Victor looked the man over. “Can I do that? Have you represent everything related to The Harp & Thistle as normal, and the other one deal with everything related to the ducal estate?”

Mr. Hickenbottom pulled back. “Of course! Many people of your station have even more than two solicitors for various reasons. You can have as many as you need or wish.”

Victor found his eyes trailing back to Anne and stared at her.

Blast it all, she was beautiful. He could spend hours, days, simply studying and drawing her.

He wondered what she would think about being drawn in the nude.

He would enjoy studying the hidden parts of her he had never been fortunate enough to see before.

He rubbed his hands over his face. What in the blazes was wrong with him? He’d told her to leave his life. Why was he thinking about drawing her nude ? He needed help. Maybe he would see a physician next. Clearly, he had some kind of brain disease.

Mr. Hickenbottom clapped his hands together. “The reason your wife is here is because—”

“Why do you keep calling her that?” Victor’s voice ground in frustration. Anne wasn’t his wife, and she never would be—she had made that quite clear! And the solicitor had seemed to understand that in his response this morning. Why the change?

“That’s why I’m here, Victor,” Anne said gently.

She took a few steps toward him and placed a hesitant hand to his arm.

He didn’t pull away, though he knew he should have.

He couldn’t help it, though. He was weak in every possible way when it came to Anne.

“In Mr. Hickenbottom’s letter this morning,” she continued, “he said the marriage was null if I didn’t consent to it.

So I came to tell him I did consent to it. I was a willing party.”

Victor’s eyes anchored to hers. Joy shone from her gaze. “What are you saying?” he asked, not believing his ears for a moment.

“I’m saying, we are, in fact, married.” She smiled widely, her beautiful eyes smiling with it.

“We’re married?” Victor said, still not believing it. “You’re my wife?”

“Yes, and you are my husband.”

Victor faltered back.

Mary’s voice sounded. “Mama, is he going to be all right?”

“Yes, darling, he’s simply in shock. It will wear off.”

Victor had begun to pace the room. But it felt like he was floating. It wasn’t a bad feeling, as if he were about to be ill.

He was…elated.

After the news sunk in just enough for him to believe it, he returned to his senses. His wife was right there, what in the blazes was he doing? There she was, the only woman he had ever loved, the only woman he had ever wanted. Anne. Lady Litchfield. Now, the Duchess of Invermark.

It had a nice ring to it.

“But you were so steadfast against this,” he whispered. “Why did you change your mind?”

She met his whisper. “I kept telling myself I was afraid of marriage because it would be like being married to Bernard again. But you aren’t like Bernard and never will be. It took losing you to get me to admit that to myself.”

Victor closed the distance between them, wrapped his arms around his wife’s waist, and pulled her close, winning a gasp in response.

Smiling, he angled his head down to hers and kissed her with joy, with relief, with maddening love.

She was the light in his life, the sunshine that broke through the clouds.

Just her being his wife made everything seem better somehow.

Anne ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him back, giggled, then pulled away. “Victor,” she whispered. “We have an audience.”

“Right.” He cleared his throat and stepped back. “Sorry.”

Mary giggled and then hurried over to her mother and the two began whispering excitedly together.

While they did that, Victor went over to his solicitor. First things first—his wife and new marriage. “I’ll be heading back to Brighton. I’m not sure when I’ll be back just yet.”

“Very well, Your Grace.”

“Keer will still be your contact unless you need me specifically for some reason.”

Mr. Hickenbottom glanced at Anne then leaned forward. “Go be with your new wife, Your Grace. Everything will still be here whenever you come back.”

*

It had been more than twelve hours since Victor had learned Anne had consented to being married to him.

Upon their return to Summerwood, they shared the news of what had happened.

Not just the chaos Mary had caused, but also the death of Fergus.

Most surprising to all, though, was Victor and Anne had married, plus how they’d been married.

The family’s reactions were understandably varied.

It was a lot at once and some people, like Ollie and Freddy, were angry.

Ollie shoved Victor and said, “You made a big fuss over not being at my wedding and here you are getting married at Gretna Green too? Without me there, either?” And even though Ollie hadn’t been particularly fond of their grandparents, they had been a key part of his life.

He was struggling with not being told about the death, and not being invited to the funeral.

Dantes acted as if he didn’t care about any of it, but Victor knew he did. He also knew there was no use in talking to the gruff man about it. Vivian would do that and would be a far better listener. Thank God for wives.

The Duke of Chalworth was surprised, if anything, and told Victor to prepare to double down on ducal lessons because that was what they would be doing all day every day for the rest of the summer.

Victor pretended to act like this was a big sacrifice, but he was infinitely grateful for the Duke of Chalworth.

Especially as the older man felt that it was, in fact, possible to run a dukedom and a pub.

“It’s merely like having one additional property, on top of the several others. You’ll simply have to rely on Dantes and Keer more, like you rely on property and estate managers,” the duke helpfully said.

Perhaps Keer was due for an even better promotion.