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MARSHA HECKMAN is a floral designer and wedding planner who teaches classes in San Francisco on planning a wedding. She has participated in the design of more than 100 weddings and events and is the author of Bouquets: A Year of Flowers for the Bride, which is now in its third printing.RICHARD JUNG is a New York-based food and travel photographer whose work has been published in eight cookbooks as well as Bouquets, A Year of Flowers for the Bride. His photographs have also appeared in a variety of magazines, including Travel & Leisure, Sunset, Better Homes and Gardens, and Metropolitan Home.

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Welcome — “Friends and family of the Bride and Groom, what a joy it is for me to welcome you here today on this very happy occasion, for we have come to celebrate the miracle of love and to witness the union of (Groom’s full name) ______________________ and (Bride’s full name) _________________. Every experience you have ever had, everything you have ever done, everything you have ever learned has brought you to this moment as you now stand before these witnesses to take each other as husband and wife. New experiences lie before you with opportunities to grow deeper in love with each other. As you walk hand in hand into the future, cherish each moment as a gift, a gift given to strengthen the bond between you.” Consent — (Groom) _______ and (Bride) _______, as you give your hand to the other, are you both ready to be united as husband and wife? (Both answer): Yes. Who presents (Bride) _______ to be married to (Groom) _______? We do.

Reading — “Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails. So faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.”

Vows — “I, (Groom/Bride) ________, take you (Bride/Groom) ________, to be my partner in life. I will cherish our friendship, and love you today, tomorrow and forever. I will trust you and honor you. I will love you faithfully through the best and the worst, through the difficult and the easy. What may come I will always be there. As I have given you my hand to hold, so I give you my life to keep.”

Explanation of the rings — The wedding ring is the outward and visible sign of an inward and invisible bond which unites two loyal hearts in endless love. The ring is a circle which has no end and symbolizes the never-ending love that exists between you. The gold substance of which the ring is composed, is a symbol of the riches that reside in each of you. These rings are also made of precious gems, gems that radiate a quality and a brilliance that set them apart from other ordinary stones. May these rings always reflect the light of your love throughout your life together. Wear them as a sign of the love that exists between you, the love which now your hearts enfold and your words express.

Exchange of the Rings — “(Bride/Groom) _______, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness, and as I place it on your finger, I commit my very heart and soul to you. I ask you to wear this ring as as reminder of the vows we have spoken on this our wedding day.

Lighting of the Unity Candle — When the flames of two individual candles join together, a single brighter light is created from that union. May the brightness of this light shine throughout your lives, giving you courage and reassurance in the darkness; may its warmth give you shelter from the cold and may its energy fill your spirits with strength and joy. Now as you light this candle, may it symbolize that today you become as one . . . hand in hand, heart to heart, flesh to flesh, and soul to soul.

Wedding Blessing — May all that you are, always be in love; may all that is love, always be in you. May your love be as beautiful on each day you share as it is on this day of celebration, and may each day you share be as precious to you as the day when you first fell in love. May you always see and encourage the best in each other. May the challenges life brings your way make your marriage even stronger . . . and may you always be each other’s best friend and greatest love. –This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

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“This will do,” she answered.

The isolated spot she’d chosen was a flat piece of nothing squeezed in between the pines. There was barely enough room for him to roll over. She seemed to like it, though, and for what he owed was going to be the very last time, he let her have her way. He stood behind her as he removed his boots, all the while trying to control his temper.

She spread the blanket out on the ground, and though he was sure she would try to make an hour-long project out of the simple task, she surprised him by being quick about it.

When she was finished, she removed her slippers and then stood up, facing him. She moved closer, until her toes were touching his, and stared into his eyes, holding her breath while she waited for him to touch her.

He didn’t move. Tension filled the air between them, her ,anxiety building as she stared into those dark, inscrutable eyes of his, looking for the first sign of displeasure. Lord, she couldn’t stand the silence long.

“I had thought to keep my clothes on.”

He slowly shook his head. “But then I thought to take them off,” she whispered.

And still he waited. She told herself she had made the decision and now it was up to her to keep her word. Her hands shook as she untied the belt at her waist, and the woolen material he’d draped around her fell in a swoosh to the ground.

She thought about moving to the side before she took her gown off, because the moonlight was blocked by the tree branches there and shadows would hide her nudity from him, but then she decided to stop being such a coward.

Should she tell him she wasn’t wearing anything underneath her nightgown? No, she decided, he would find out soon enough. Her heart was pounding frantically, but her anxiety had faded a little-because he wasn’t attacking her, she supposed-and somewhere in the back of her muddled thoughts was the realization that Connor wouldn’t deliberately hurt her. She couldn’t understand why she felt that way, but she did, and oddly, her hands weren’t shaking nearly as much.

She felt she was in charge of what was happening to her, and that made all the difference.

She regarded him gravely while she gathered her courage and then slowly removed her nightgown. She kept her gaze on Connor all the while, searching for a hint of displeasure or disgust because her body was so terribly imperfect. She was fully aware of her flaws. Her breasts were too large, her hips too narrow, and her legs were too long for the rest of her body. He was bound to notice, she knew, and if he so much as frowned with displeasure, she thought she would close her eyes and die of shame.

He took his time looking at her. His gaze lingered on her parted lips, her full breasts, her narrow waist, the blond curls shielding her virginity, her long legs, all the while trying to remember how to draw a breath. Dear God, he hadn’t expected such beauty. He was overwhelmed by her, for he had never imagined such a woman could exist, and if he weren’t a practical man, he would have thought she wasn’t English at all but a goddess sent down from heaven to reward him for the vengeance he had sought in his sainted father’s name.

He was fast becoming desperate to take her into his arms and plant himself firmly inside her. He didn’t give in to his body’s demands yet, but stood where he was and let her take the lead once again. For some reason he didn’t understand, she had gotten it into her head that she should be the one making the decisions tonight. He had come to this startling conclusion when he had hesitated instead of ordering her to remove her clothes and be damned quick about it. He had shaken his head at her to let her know he didn’t care for her decision to keep her clothes on, but before he could explain exactly what he wanted her to do, she changed her mind.

And he got exactly what he wanted.

The blush covering her face reflected her embarrassment. She was trying to look defiant and not afraid, but she was worried. He could see it in her eyes, in the way she stood as straight and rigid as a spear, and in her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. Oh, yes, she really was perfect.

She must have believed he would become the aggressor now, and when he didn’t reach for her, she slowly began to relax.

Why didn’t he take off his clothes? She worried about that for a full minute before deciding to offer her assistance.

“I had thought you would remove your own clothes, but then I considered you might want me to assist you. Sometimes wives in England help their husbands disrobe.”

She was obviously making it all up as she went along. If it helped relieve her fear, he didn’t mind.”Do you want me to undress you, Connor?”

He considered answering her, then decided what had worked before would work again, and so he simply nodded agreement.

She took another shaky breath, no doubt bracing herself for what she thought she would find, before she finally gathered enough gumption to reach for his belt. Her toes, as weightless as a butterfly’s wings, brushed over his, and the second the knot was undone and his plaid began to drop to the ground, she took a quick step back.

He wasn’t wearing any underclothes. She noticed that right away, God help her for being foolish enough to look, and she deliberately turned her attention to his chin until her heart calmed down. She’d only taken a glimpse below his waist before she forced herself to look away. It was still more than enough to make her want to run all the way back to England.

“Connor, are you certain this will work?”

The bewilderment in her voice amused him. God, she was innocent. And young.

He gently pulled her into his arms and held her tight against him. His head dropped down to the top of her head. “Yes,” he promised.

He was a little surprised he could speak at all. The feel of her soft breasts pressed against his chest demanded his full attention, and honest to God, he was beginning to believe the unbearable wait had been worth the trouble.

He couldn’t wait any longer though. Neither his body nor his mind would allow another minute to pass without fulfilling all of his urges.

Connor had fully expected to be surprised again, and that he was, because once he’d convinced her to quit hiding in the crook of his neck and tilt her head up toward him, she let him kiss her. She didn’t know what she was doing, of course. Her lips were closed tight against his, but with his gentle coaxing, she began to relax. Then he told her what he wanted her to do. She didn’t fight him, just gave him a look that suggested she thought he was out of his mind to want her to do such a thing, and after he’d repeated his demand, she finally conceded to him and opened her mouth.

And then he kissed her the way he’d imagined he would from the moment he’d first seen her today. His tongue quickly moved inside her sweet warmth to stroke and explore. It was much, much better than what he’d imagined it would be. God, how he liked kissing her this way.

She liked it too. She wound her arms around his neck and began to stroke him, timidly at first, then far more boldly, until she seemed as eager as he was to experience more of the erotic pleasure.

Copyright © 1996 by Julie Garwood

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Peggy Post, codirector of The Emily Post Institute, Inc., has written fourteen books on etiquette, including eight for children, which were cowritten with her sister-inlaw, Cindy Post Senning. Peggy is a nationally recognized authority on etiquette, and millions seek her advice through her monthly column in Good Housekeeping and her appearances on national radio and television, including Today, Dr. Phil, The Oprah Winfrey Show, and Good Morning America.

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London, February 1820

This business of acquiring a husband is going to be far from pleasant, Eliza Hammond decided from her place on the saffron-and-white-striped sofa in the upstairs family drawing room of Raeburn House.

Considering this would be her fifth Season—a lowering realization indeed—she knew she would need all the assistance she could get, despite the immense fortune her late aunt had quite unexpectedly left to her only six weeks ago. At least she knew she would be able to count on the steadfast support of her dear friend, Violet Brantford Winter, Duchess of Raeburn. Perhaps with Violet’s assistance, the process would not be as dreadful as she feared. Then again, thinking of the assorted ne’er-do-wells and fortune hunters already vying for her hand, perhaps it would.

“There is Mr. Newcomb,” Violet stated as she reviewed the current selection of Eliza’s prospective suitors. “He seems a very pleasant sort of gentleman with a genuine interest in the arts.”

“Yes, he was most attentive when we happened upon each other at the gallery the other day,” Eliza agreed, recalling the man’s even features and straight auburn hair, a shade that had put her in mind of a glossy-coated Irish setter. “He demonstrated a definite command of the great masters. Perhaps he has an interest in historical subjects as well.”

“What he has is an interest in card playing, followed a close second by a love of the dice,” interrupted a deep, smooth male voice that never failed to send a pleasurable tingle down Eliza’s spine no matter how firmly she tried to suppress it.

She shifted her gaze toward Lord Christopher Winter, better known to his family and friends as Kit. Tall, broad-shouldered and ruggedly lean, he sat relaxed in a leisurely all-male sprawl upon a nearby chair. Having spent the past twenty minutes eating his way through a stack of small watercress, cucumber and chicken sandwiches, he leaned forward now to conduct a perusal of the dessert tray.

A lock of his dark, wavy brown hair fell across his handsome forehead as he selected a pair of lime tarts and a thin slice of rum cake. As he transferred the sweets to his plate, he got a smudge of whipped cream on one of his knuckles. Eliza’s stomach tightened as she watched him lick it away.

She forced her gaze down to her shoes. Kit was Violet’s brother-in-law and nothing more, she reminded herself. Certainly he was nothing more to her. True, she had once nursed a secret infatuation for him but such silliness was long since over and done. During the nearly year and half he had been away traveling on the Continent, she had ruthlessly purged him from her heart. And by the time he returned to England this Christmas past, she had long since grown used to giving him scarcely a thought.

Still, that didn’t mean she couldn’t admire him for the gorgeous male specimen he was. And Kit Winter, with his beautiful, lazy-lidded green and gold eyes, sensuous lips and infectiously charming smile, was a gorgeous man indeed. One with an infamously prodigious appetite that seemed to make no impact at all upon his trim, well-muscled physique.

He bit into one of the tarts from his plate, a tiny smile of gustatory delight on his lips as he settled back into his chair. Engrossed in the confection, he seemed utterly oblivious to the volley of disappointment he had just lobbed into the room.

Violet shot him a mighty frown. “What do you mean by that remark, Kit?”

He swallowed and glanced upward. “Hmm?” He took a drink of tea, then politely patted his mouth with his napkin. “Oh, about Newcomb, do you mean?”

“Yes, of course about Newcomb. Of whom else have Eliza and I been conversing?”

“Well, there’s no need to come up cross, Vi. Just thought I ought to give you fair warning the chap is close to being dipped. Last I heard, he lost twenty thousand quid to Plimpton playing high-stakes whist and his luck hasn’t turned for the good since.”

Violet and Eliza released a pair of mutual sighs.

“If that is the case, then he is out,” Violet declared, turning her bespectacled blue-green gaze upon Eliza. “You certainly don’t want to take an inveterate gambler to husband.”

Eliza silently agreed and contented herself by sipping her tea.

“There is Sir Silas Jones,” Violet continued. “He sent you that sweet nosegay of hothouse roses last week. I hear he comes from a lovely part of Kent. Owns an estate that produces a most bountiful harvest of cherries and apples each year. Has quite the way with plants, I am given to understand.”

“That’s not all he’s good at planting,” murmured Kit as he polished off the last of the sweets on his plate and leaned forward for more.

Violet angled her attractively coiffured blond head. “I suppose by that you mean there is something wrong with him as well?”

“Depends upon your point of view. Some might say there’s nothing wrong with him at all.” He ate a guinea-sized crumpet topped with a generous spoonful of gooseberry jam, then silently held out his empty Meissen cup for more tea.

Without pause, Violet lifted the heavy silver teapot from a matching silver tray and poured. A delicate tendril of steam spiraled off the surface of the beverage for a moment before Kit brought the cup to his lips.

“So?” Violet encouraged when he failed to say more.

Kit set his teacup onto its saucer with a faint clink. “Man’s a womanizer. Has six by-blows by four different women and those are only the ones he acknowledges. One might say Jones is a man who likes to plow a field.”

Eliza felt her cheeks grow pink. A small guffaw escaped the duchess before Violet recovered herself.

“Kit,” Violet said in reproof. “Might I remind you there are ladies present, myself included. That is no kind of talk for the drawing room.”

He forced an irreverent grin from his lips. “Sorry. You are right, of course. My apologies, ladies.”

“Nevertheless, I am glad to learn that Sir Silas is not a man to whom my dear friend should direct her time or attentions.” Violet tapped a thoughtful nail against the scrolled sofa arm. “Of the other gentlemen who have recently extended their regards to Eliza, we know Viscount Coyle and Mr. Washburn are not to be received, the both of them known fortune hunters forever on the lookout for a likely heiress to replenish their pocketbooks.”

“What of Lord Luffensby?” Eliza said. “He sent me that very pleasant book of sonnets.” Wordsworth, she recalled with pleasure, the poet one of her favorites.

“Of course. I met him only once and very briefly but he struck me as a most amiable man. Very considerate and gently spoken.”

A soft but unmistakable snort erupted from Kit.

Violet shot him another look, one of exasperation this time. “Pray do not tell me there is something amiss with Lord Luffensby too? Surely not. I know his cousin and she gave me to understand that he has a most comfortable income and no predilections for the usual vices.”

“No, not the usual ones, that’s for certain.”

Violet waited for a long moment. “Oh, do go on before Eliza and I both expire of curiosity.”

“I am not sure I ought to say. As you already reminded me, there are ladies present.” Kit paused, glanced at Eliza. “Unmarried ladies.”

“Well, dear heavens, what is it? Surely it cannot be so terrible Eliza cannot be allowed to hear. And it isn’t as if she is a miss just out of the schoolroom.”

Kit tapped a considering finger against his lips. “He has a nickname among certain fellows. Lord Poofensby.”

Poofensby? Eliza frowned. Was Kit referring to the man’s wardrobe? Luffensby did tend toward being a bit of a dandy but nothing too extreme. She looked over at Violet, whose brows were also furrowed in confusion.

“I am sorry but you’ll have to be clearer,” Violet said.

“Clearer?” Kit rolled his eyes, then heaved a beleaguered sigh. “You know, for a woman who reads Greek and Latin and speaks five languages, you can sometimes be remarkably ignorant.”

“There is no need to be insulting. Just say it out. I am sure it cannot be so very bad.”

“All right. He . . . um . . . has a liking for men.”

“Well, what is so remarkable about that? A great many gentlemen enjoy the company of others of their sex. I don’t see why you are making such a— Oh.” Violet broke off, her eyebrows rising. “Oh! Oooh.”

Eliza looked between them, still not entirely understanding the message that had just been passed. Then suddenly she remembered a bit of text she had read once in one of her books on ancient history about men who cared for other men in an amorous way. She had found the notion quite astonishing at the time, yet never considered such things might still go on. Certainly not here in present-day England!

A fresh blush stole over her cheeks.

“Quite so.” Kit stretched out his legs, crossed them at the ankle. “Not the sort of fellow likely to give you a family, assuming that is what you want?”

A family, Eliza thought, was exactly what she wanted. It was the single most important reason she had decided to find a husband and wed. Her shoulders dipped, her spi…

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Award-winning author G. A. Hauser was born in Fair Lawn, New Jersey, USA, and attended university in New York City. She moved to Seattle, Washington where she worked as a patrol officer with the Seattle Police Department. In early 2000 G.A. moved to Hertfordshire, England, where she began her writing in earnest and published her first book, In the Shadow of Alexander. Now a full-time writer, G.A. has written dozens of novels, including several bestsellers of gay fiction. For more information on other books by G.A., visit the author at her official website at: www.authorgahauser.com. G.A. has won awards from All Romance eBooks for Best Novel 2007, Secrets and Misdemeanors, Best Author 2007. Best Novel 2008, Mile High, and Best Author 2008.

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MARTHA STEWART is the author of many best-selling books on weddings, cooking, decorating, gardening, and other domestic arts, and is the founder of Martha Stewart Living Omnimedia. She lives in Bedford, New York.

WENDY KROMER’S cakes regularly grace the pages of Martha Stewart Weddings magazine, where she is a contributing editor, and have also been featured in many other publications and on television. In 2004, Wendy returned to her hometown of Sandusky, Ohio, and opened Wendy Kromer Confections, where she produces wedding and special-event cakes, decorated cookies, and custom-made sugar decorations.

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Whether you’re married to the idea of an intimate beach gathering or the most formal of church ceremonies, In Style Weddings’ unique blend of expert advice and celebrity inspirations shows every bride how to make her wedding day uniquely her own. Arranged in 10 chapters: The Ring, The Invitation, The Dress, Beauty, The Flowers, The Cake, The Photography, The Wedding Party, The Ceremony and The Reception- this book offers examples and guidance on how to create the wedding of your dreams. With more than 500 vibrant full-color and black & white photographs, In Style Weddings is both visually stunning and useful. This book is your source of practical advice and endless inspiration for your wedding.

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CARLEY RONEY is editor in chief of The Knot, the number one wedding brand worldwide, as well as its sister brand, The Nest. Roney has authored nine wedding books for The Knot and appears regularly on TV shows, including The Oprah Winfrey Show, The View, Live with Regis and Kelly, and Today.

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Sharon Naylor is the author of more than thirty wedding-planning books. She is the wedding Q&A specialist at iVillage Weddings and PashWeddings.com and a contributing editor for Southern Bride. She has been featured in InStyle Weddings, Bride & Groom, and Vows.