Sam wasn't quite sure how his life had suddenly become so complicated, but he knew one thing for certain. He loved Ivy and he would not let her slip away again. Neither Lord Wycliffe nor his father could keep him from marrying her, as long as she'd have him.

Once everyone had returned to the house, Lady Wycliffe had decreed that everyone needed a moment to freshen up, and to reconvene in an hour in the drawing room. Sam suspected she mostly wanted more time for her husband to cool his temper. Since it could only work in Sam's favour, he did not disagree. It did, however, leave him roaming the halls of Bodine House with anxious energy while waiting for the time of his reckoning to arrive.

Too many thoughts chased through his mind. Would Wycliffe oppose the marriage? How would Ivy react to finding out he was, in fact, the next Viscount Bodine—something he had not had the chance to tell her yet? He stopped his nervous pacing as the realisation finally hit him. He was the next Viscount Bodine. Ivy could still attend the London season, albeit not as a single woman looking to marry. She would not have to live the life of the working class if she married him.

There would be gossip. Whispers about his circumstances. But they could weather it together. All he needed was Ivy to get him through anything. Hopefully, she would feel the same. It was a big ask to add his complicated backstory to her own when venturing into the gossip-loving throngs of the ton.

"Sam?"

Ivy had come up behind him while he was lost in thought and was watching him curiously. A surge of love for her welled up inside. She'd washed her face and tamed her hair, though a few damp tendrils curled at her temples. A new—less mud-stained—dress in white and a blue that matched her eyes adorned her body. He barely paid attention to any of it, too caught up in his feelings.

Before he knew what he was doing, he glanced around to make sure no one could see them, then quickly led her through the closest door. It led to a small reception room which was, fortunately, empty. Closing the door behind them, he faced Ivy, his heart pounding. She looked up at him with questioning eyes, her lips slightly parted.

He just wanted a moment with only the two of them before everything came crashing down around them. The calm before the storm. But his words lodged in his throat as his eyes fastened on her mouth. He'd missed her terribly these weeks. Unable to resist, he reached out and pulled her into his arms. His mouth found hers and he kissed her deeply with all the pent-up frustration and love he wasn't entirely sure how to express. She melted against him with a soft sigh, her fingers tangling in his hair.

"God I missed you," he whispered against her lips, refusing to break contact, needing to feel her against him. To know she was there and she wasn't going anywhere. "I will never leave you again."

She giggled, the sound reverberating between them. Pulling back slightly, she smiled up at him. "That is sweet, Sam, but you cannot stay by my side forever."

"I can and I will." He bowed his head to nip at the warm skin on her neck and was rewarded by a moan.

"That's unreasonable," she argued, but she sounded distracted which only urged him on.

His hands stroked down her back, feeling the warmth of her body through the thin muslin, before cupping her bottom and pulling her enticing body even closer against his frame. She was soft and hot and he quickly lost himself to her touch, his hands roaming over her and his mouth seeking hers again for deep, passionate kisses.

The door opened, and someone cleared their throat. Cursing himself for having no more self-control than a young buck, Sam stepped away from Ivy and turned around. Lady Wycliffe stood in the doorway, watching them with an amused expression on her face. Small favours that it was her and not her husband.

"I believe they are waiting for you," she said, unable to hide the mirth in her voice.

"Sorry!" Ivy dashed over to her mother, her cheeks glowing red.

Sam cleared his throat, fully aware he was not in a position to see anyone quite then. "I will join you in a moment."

When Ivy's brows knotted in bewilderment, her mother hid a smile behind her hand before ushering her out the door.

"We will see you shortly, Mr Hemsworth."

And with that, the two women left him alone in the room. It was rather mortifying to have Ivy's mother catch them like this, but there was nought to do now. Sam inhaled deeply, willing his burning body to calm down.

It was not too much later that he walked into the drawing room. The Wycliffes were waiting for him, with Ivy standing near them, offering him an encouraging smile. To his surprise, his father was also present. Lord Bodine sat in an upholstered armchair, leaning heavily against the back and looking as if he ought to be in bed rather than in polite society.

Sam bowed his head to everyone, uncertain of what was going on. Why had Bodine involved himself in this mess? Judging from the uncertain glances from the Wycliffes, they were wondering the same thing.

Wycliffe cleared his throat. "Thank you for joining us, Mr Hemsworth. Let's start by clearing something up. You are not good enough for my daughter."

"Wycliffe!" His wife hit his arm. "Don't be rude."

Turning to her, Wycliffe muttered. "No one is good enough for her."

Lady Wycliffe smiled softly and stroked his cheek. "I know, dear. But you will have to let her go."

"We already lost her once..."

"She loves Mr Hemsworth. And we won't lose her, we will gain a son."

There was a moment's silence as Wycliffe mulled over his wife's words, and then he nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry." He turned to Ivy. "Is he truly who you want?"

She nodded vehemently. "Yes."

"We must seek the permission of Mr Edwards, of course," Wycliffe mused. "But I don't see that he would deny you anything you wish for."

This was turning out better than Sam could ever have hoped for. He didn't even have to speak. Hanging back, he waited while Wycliffe took the steps separating him from his daughter.

"I'm sorry for keeping the two of you apart," he said, taking her hands in his. "I... I just wanted to protect you. Do what I thought was best for your future."

Ivy squeezed his hands. "I know, but you must trust me to know my own heart."

"Fine. But if he hurts you, you must excuse me when I break his bones."

Ivy's laughter soothed everyone's nerves, and the whole room seemed to relax. Tilting up on her tiptoes, she kissed Wycliffe on his cheek before she made her way towards Sam.

"Stop."

Everyone froze, and for a moment no one could tell who had spoken. Lord Bodine had straightened in his chair and was glaring at them.

"I have not given my blessing," he said, his dark voice surprisingly strong coming from such a frail-looking body.

"You have no blessings to give," Sam said stiffly. "This does not concern you."

"Does it not?" Bodine shifted slightly in his seat, his blue eyes cold. "Whoever you marry will bring future Bodine heirs to the world."

Everyone's eyes turned to Sam, and he cursed when he saw the question in Ivy's. Hell, this was not how he had wanted to tell her.

"I thought you were a bastard," Wycliffe said, his forehead creased in consternation.

"So did I," Sam bit off. "I found out today my father has kept the true circumstances of my birth hidden all these years."

"Why?" Wycliffe shook his head, and Sam supposed that for a man in Wycliffe's position, who had believed his child lost and mourned her for years, only to find her again... the other man's position was incomprehensible.

"My reasons are my own," Bodine barked as he pushed up from the chair to his full height. A move made less threatening by his pallid appearance. Glaring at Sam, he pointed at Ivy. "You will not marry that chit. She's a bastard."

Sam gripped his walking stick tightly, trying to keep his temper reined in. "Until today, so was I."

"Can you imagine the gossip?" Bodine continued. "Not only because of your own... unusual... circumstances but then also married to a woman born out of wedlock?"

"Honestly? I do not care." Sam looked over at Ivy, hoping she could see the love and earnestness in his eyes. "And as long as Ivy is comfortable with it, we will face it together."

A tremulous smile appeared on Ivy's lips, and it was all the encouragement he needed. No one else's opinions mattered. Strengthened, Sam faced his father head-on.

"I will marry Ivy and nothing you say can stop me. You chose to reveal my legitimacy. I never asked for this. Maybe when I was a child. Back then, I would have done anything for a scrap of your attention, but now? You can go to hell for all I care after the way you treated me and my mother's memory."

Bodine sputtered. "You ungrateful wretch! I'm giving you everything!"

"No, you're securing your line. You don't care who it is, as long as your precious title doesn't go to waste." Sam forced himself to relinquish his grip on the walking stick and flexed his fingers to relieve some of the aching. "You do what you want. Continue to keep my legitimacy a secret and find yourself without an heir, or accept that I'm marrying the woman I love."

They stared at each other for a tense moment. Then Bodine made a dismissive gesture with his hand and sank back down in his chair with a grunt. Caring little for what the older man decided, Sam walked over to Ivy and took her hand in his.

"Please, Ivy," he said, searching her gaze. "Please, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife? I can't live without you, whether that's in a mansion or a cottage, or anywhere else. If you will have me, I will follow you anywhere you wish."

"Oh, Sam." She threw herself at him, sliding her arms around his neck, and her body pressed against his. "I love you. Of course, I will marry you."

Forgetting everyone around them, Sam tucked his fingers under her chin and lifted her face to his so he could capture her mouth in a searing kiss. She was all he wanted. All he needed. His life was complete as long as she was in it.

"Well," he heard Lady Wycliffe say behind them. "Gentlemen, I believe it is time for us to leave these two alone."

"What?" Wycliffe said. "Really? They're not married yet."

"Let them have a moment."

There was a rustling of clothes and a faint sound of footsteps receding as the room emptied of others, but Sam scarcely noticed, too lost in his future wife's embrace. If it hadn't been impossible with so many nosy people around, he would have liked to continue this for much longer.

"How soon can we marry, do you think?" he asked her as he placed a row of kisses along her shoulder.

"I don't know," she mumbled between soft sighs. "Tomorrow?"

He laughed against her soft skin before lifting his head. "If only such a thing was possible. I'd marry you on the spot if I could."

Ivy trailed a finger down the buttons of his waistcoat while worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. It took his every restraint not to drag her back to her bedroom right then.

"So," she said slowly. "You're the next Viscount Bodine?"

"Apparently so." He lifted a hand to cup her face, searching her eyes for any sign of displeasure. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. When I saw you today, I... Other things occupied my mind."

"I will have you any which way, Sam Hemsworth." She smoothed back a lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead. "Whether you be a private investigator, butler, or viscount."

Relief flooded him. He hadn't realised he'd been nervous about her reaction, but as always, she surprised him with how easygoing she was. He bowed down to kiss her. "Have I told you how amazing you are?"

She giggled. "You may have mentioned it, but please tell me again."

"You." He kissed her forehead. "Are." Her cheek. "Amazing." Capturing her mouth again, he kissed her with all the love and passion in his heart.

It was several minutes before they broke apart, their foreheads still resting against each other, and their breaths mingling.

"Maybe we can procure a license?" Ivy suggested shyly. "Then I believe it's only a week's wait."

Sam nodded. He could wait a week. Ivy smiled and dragged his face down for another kiss. As he kissed her deeply, he groaned. He'd be lucky if he could last a day.

~~~~~~