"Ohh, m'lady," Polly said admiringly, "'tis a beautiful gown."

"It is, isn't it?" Lucinda agreed. Then she patted her hair. "I like what you have done," she told her maid.

"Jessie, her that is replacing me, showed me how, m'lady. She is very clever with hair. She calls this style a Pompadour Hairdress."

"It suits me," Lucinda decided aloud, turning her head this way and that. It was really a simple style for all it had been named after the French king's latest mistress. Her rich, dark chestnut hair was combed back from her forehead, and a few curls were then displayed on the side of her head, seemingly pinned with a pink diamond fan.

A knock sounded at the door, and George Worth's head popped into the room. "Are you ready, Luci? It's quarter to ten o'clock."

Polly wrapped a rose velvet pelisse trimmed with dark fur along its hood about her mistress and then handed her a large matching fur muff. "Yer painted fan is in it, and a lawn handkerchief, m'lady."

"Make certain the bed is remade with lavender-scented linens, and the wine tray on the table," Lucinda told her maid softly.

"John and I will have it just right, m'lady," Polly said with a wink.

Lucinda's town coach pulled into the long line of carriages waiting to enter the Whitley mansion. Finally they arrived at the door and were handed out of the vehicle by footmen in black-and-gold livery.

"You have the license?" Lucinda asked her brother for the tenth time.

He pulled it from his pocket and waved it beneath her nose. "Are you ready to tell me yet who is the fortunate gentleman, Luci?"

"Not yet," Lucinda said as they entered the house. She and Caroline, who looked quite lovely in several shades of blue, had their cloaks taken by a little maid. They then rejoined George and waited to be announced into the ballroom.

"The most honorable George Worth, Bishop of Wellington, and Mistress Worth. Lady Lucinda Harrington," the major-domo intoned.

Every eye in the great ballroom swung in their direction, and for a brief moment there was utter silence.

"My dears," the Countess of Whitley welcomed them, her eyes twinkling with anticipation. "I ordered extra flowers, Lucinda darling."

George bowed. His two companions curtsied. Lucinda murmured a soft thank-you. Her heart was pounding wildly. As she passed into the ballroom, she looked about her anxiously. Where was he? She couldn't see him anywhere. Dear heaven! Had he decided at the last moment not to come? She saw the Duke of Rexford trying to catch her eye. Lucinda turned away and sought the necessary behind the screen in a corner of the room. She didn't need it; she just wanted to escape her suitors. She allowed herself a few minutes, and then emerged.

"Lord Derek Bowen. Lord Lucian Phillips, Earl of Stanton," the major domo called out.

Relieved, she saw them enter the ballroom. She began to make her way across the ballroom only to be blocked by her three suitors. "My lords," she said in a tight voice.

"It is time for you tell us, Lucinda," the Duke of Rexford said. "You have played this game and held us at bay for long enough."

"Not yet!" she snapped at them and, pushing past the three, once again sought the Earl of Stanton. Reaching him at last, she put her arm through his and looking up at him said, "The flowers were beautiful."

"I thought they suited you," he replied.

"I told you I would find you," she responded. God, he was so handsome.

"And indeed you have, Lucinda. Now what?" His green eyes were gazing deeply into her blue ones.

"We will be married," Lucinda told him frankly.

"I am not certain I should wed such a lively lass as yourself, Lucinda. After all, I never could master you," he teased her with a grin.

"You are the only man who has even the faintest chance of mastering me, Lucian Charles Phillips. Do you not love me?"

"Oh, yes, Lucinda, I love you desperately," he admitted. "But do you love me, my pet?"

"So much that I was ill when I arrived and you were not here," she told him. "So much that my brother carries a special license in his pocket tonight so he may wed us here and now. Then we shall leave this ball and spend the next few hours in a glorious bout of fucking, my darling master."

"I have missed you," he told her, and bending brushed her lips with his. "Your scheme has great merit, my pet. I agree to it. I think, perhaps, it is time I met the worthy bishop."

"What is going on?" Lord Bowen asked of them.

"Come along, Derek, and you will see," the earl invited.

As they made their way across the ballroom to find George, they were accosted by Lucinda's three suitors, angrily demanding explanations.

Lucinda stopped. "You will get nothing more from me, my Lords," she told them in a hard, cold voice. "I said tonight my brother would announce my betrothal, and so he shall. To the Earl of Stanton. The gentleman I fell in love with this summer past when in Ireland at my sister Julia's. We will be wed tonight, here and now! If any of you dares to object, I shall expose the Devil's Disciples and your part in that shameless band of lustful men."

"What of your part, Lucinda?" Lord Bertram said.

"I would remind you three that you still need wives to carry on your family name. How do you think the guardians of next season's crop of dewy-eyed debutantes will feel about your wicked activities? How do you think they will react to the knowledge that you kidnapped a gentlewoman, forcing her into carnal bondage, in order to make her choose one of you for a husband? You would be wise, I believe, to hold your tongues and accept my decision … or suffer the consequences. "

Lord Bertram bowed. "I retire from the field defeated, Lady Lucinda," he said graciously.

Lucinda nodded as graciously, then said to the Marquess of Hargrave, "The Earl of Felton's daughter, Louisa, has a tendré for you, Hamlet. You might have noticed her last season but that I came on the horizon. She is here tonight. I believe she would welcome your addresses. A lady likes nothing more than to comfort a worthy loser."

"She isn't as pretty as you, Lucinda," the marquess said forlornly.

"No, but she has a kind heart and would love you if you would let her." Lucinda gave him her hand. "Goodbye, Hamlet."

"Bitch!" snarled the Duke of Rexford. "I am fortunate to have seen your true colors in time!" Then he turned and angrily walked away from Lucinda, the earl, and Lord Bowen.

They continued across the crowded room, finally finding the bishop.

"Get out the license, Georgie," Lucinda told her brother. "The name is Lucian Robert Charles Phillips, Earl of Stan-ton."

Startled, the bishop looked at the earl. "Luscious Lucian!" George Worth exclaimed.

"You know each other?" Lucinda said, surprised.

"We were in the same house at Eton, but Lucian was several years younger than I was. We called him Luscious Lucian because he was frankly the handsomest fellow any of us had ever seen. The women were mad for him, even as a lad of twelve. It has been years, sir!" Then the bishop looked to his sister. "This is the man you will marry? What has happened to the others? How did you meet?"

"Why, we met, Georgie," Lucinda said wickedly, "thanks to you, this summer, at Julia's. Lucian was there to look over some of Rafferty's hunters. We fell in love, but I didn't want to tell you because you so had your heart set on my giving the other three another chance. Well, I did, but I have decided that Lucian is the man for me. You had best make the announcement and marry us, for we are both eager to leave on our honeymoon."

Caroline Worth, who had been listening, wide-eyed, to all of Luanda's explanations, began to weep delicately. "This is the most romantic story I have ever heard. Oh, darling Luci, I hope you will be as happy with your husband as I am with mine!"

"Is it time?" The Countess of Whitley was at their side, looking most arch and very excited.

"It is time," the bishop replied.

"Who is it to be, Lucinda?" the countess demanded. "You must tell me before you tell the others!"

"Madame, may I present my intended, Lucian Phillips, the Earl of Stanton," Lucinda said with a twinkle.

The Countess of Whitley's mouth dropped open, her first chin bouncing off her other two chins. She gasped, and then she burst out laughing. "You minx!" she said. "You have kept all of society guessing between the duke, the marquess, and Bertram, and all the while you had another stud in your stable! Well, good for you, my gel! You have chosen, in my opinion-and here in London my opinion counts for everything-the best of the bunch. Make your announcement, George." She signaled to the orchestra, and they played a fanfare.

George Worth, the Bishop of Wellington, walked up to the bandstand and, turning to face the ballroom, said, "I should like to announce my sister's betrothal to Lucian Phillips, the Earl of Stanton."

There was a stunned silence, and then a collective gasp from those assembled. Then the Countess of Whitley spoke up, "And George is going to marry them right here and now! I will wager none of you has ever been invited to a ball and found yourselves at a wedding!"

Lucinda and Lucian stepped up before the Bishop of Wellington.

"I have three formal witnesses," the bishop said. "I shall need a fourth."

"I will be your witness," Lord Bertram said, stepping for-ward and standing next to Lord Bowen, the countess, and Caroline Worth.

Murmurs of approval arose from the audience.

"Such exquisite manners," a voice was heard to say.

"Damned good sport!" another voice said.

"We will begin, then," George Worth said. "Dearly beloved…"

They could not, of course, leave immediately after the ceremony although they certainly wanted to do so. They stood in a reception line accepting the congratulations of several hundred people in the ballroom. The king arrived, heard what he had missed, and laughed heartily.

"A very clever wench," he approved. Then he kissed the bride, giving her breast a little squeeze as he did so.

They danced several dances, and then, although it was absolutely unforgivable etiquette to depart before the king, slipped from the ballroom unnoticed. When they reached Traleigh Square, Lucinda sent the coach back to wait for her brother and sister-in-law. Then she led her new husband to her bedroom where Polly and John were awaiting them.

"I'll send over to Lord Bowen's in the morning for your things, m'lord," John said as he helped the earl to undress.

"Gawd almighty!" Polly whispered to her mistress. "He's gorgeous!" Then she gathered up her mistress's finery and hurried from the room behind her own husband, who was carrying the earl's garments.

They were alone. They were naked. They were eager.

"I believe John has fixed the wine correctly," Lucinda said, offering him a goblet. "To us," she toasted them, and they drank their wine down, setting the goblets aside.

Reaching out, he drew her into his arms and kissed her deeply, hungrily. Lucinda slid her arms about his neck, pressing her full breasts into his broad, smooth chest. Her tongue fenced with his tongue, then ran along his sensuous lips. She could feel his cock against her thigh. It was already hard and eager for her.

"I have missed you," she told him.

"Did you fuck them?" he asked her jealously.

"Only Rexford surprised me once and forced the issue," she told him honestly. "I kept him at bay after that. The others were perfect gentlemen."

"No wonder Rexford was bitter," the earl said quietly.

"Husband," Lucinda said, "all of that is in the past and behind us. I was a good wife to Harrington. I will be a good wife to you as well, my lord. No one has ever had cause to question my honor."

"Do you want to be fucked?" he asked her bluntly. One hand moved to tweak her nipple as he fondled her breast while the other pushed through her nether lips to tease at her little exciter. "Do you want to be fucked, my beautiful, clever wife?"

"Yes, Lucian, my wonderful husband, I most certainly want to be fucked! Are you going to spend the rest of the night just talking about it?" Lucinda demanded.

With a wicked grin he pushed her back onto their bed and, falling atop her, thrust his cock deep into her hot, wet love sheath, "No, my darling, I don't intend to spend the night talking about it," he told her. "I intend to spend the night doing it."

And so he did.

Risking It All by Susan Johnson

Chapter One