Page 27 of The Governess Teaches A Duke (Wayward Dukes’ Alliance #34)

T he wedding of Miss Maribel Lewisham and Thomas Denby, the Duke of Avondale, would leave the ton with a never-ending source of gossip.

Behind their backs anyhow. It would also leave a slew of untitled young ladies with the hope that they, too, could one day find the love of a duke.

Maribel had insisted their nuptials be quick and without fuss, which is how they found themselves at Gretna Green.

Thomas disliked Scotland, so Maribel had found it very amusing how eager he had been to arrive here.

The Lewishams, Marcus, and Clara—with Mr Whiskers, of course—had come to bear witness.

Maribel was grateful for Clara’s ecstatic response to Mari becoming a mother figure and still remaining a teacher—they had hugged off and on for hours.

Maribel had pulled Thomas aside to make him promise that he would allow Maribel to continue teaching.

It was not only a means of employ but her burning passion to impart knowledge.

Thomas had promised to give her many babies so she would not lack for students.

She could not help but adore that roguish wit.

Her reminiscence was shattered by a cacophony of voices, and her gaze settled on the scene before her.

The Lewishams were boisterous, and Maribel was grateful they were the only patrons.

Her brothers were in awe that their Mari was marrying a duke, but only when Thomas was not around, as to his face, they continued to lack any kind of manners. This drove their mother crazy and she made constant apologies that Thomas kept brushing off.

Marcus had taken it upon himself to be the teller of their story, one in which their union had come to pass mainly through his efforts, which Thomas rebuked at every turn.

For privacy, Thomas had paid for every room in the inn, so it was only their families and Marcus.

Her three older brothers hung on every word he spoke, while the twins and Clara ran wild playing all kind of games.

Maribel had never had a more perfect moment with all the people that she loved.

Seated between her mother and Thomas, they waited for her father to arrive, and the following morning, they would be wed!

Thomas kept calling her his duchess, and she swatted him on the arm each time.

She may be almost a duchess, but she was always Maribel and always would be.

She would continue to teach Clara. And continue to teach Thomas. No matter her title.

“Maribel was always my easiest child—from the time she was a wee babe, she was calm, decisive, and eager to learn. My boys, on the other hand, were a rambunctious lot until they became men. So I do have hope for young Frederick and Richard.” The latter was currently jumping off a chair, with Clara about to follow suit.

“As unladylike as my daughter is behaving, I admit it warms my heart to see her overjoyed and playful with children similar in age. We may need to have a baby sooner rather than later, Maribel.”

“Thomas!” she gasped. “Not in front of my mother,” she added in a whisper.

“She has birthed six children, my sweet, I am certain she knows how babies are made,” he whispered back wickedly.

Maribel had made him pledge they would not make love again till they were wed, and instead, she had been subject to many wicked comments.

Little did he know that she and her mother had learned a secret in the last sennight—she was already with child!

It would be her wedding gift to him. A gift of what their love had created.

When she had taught a duke how to love without restraint and expectations. Just to love with all his heart.