A/N: Welcome to the sequel to my story, "Heart of a Governor." If you haven't read it, that's okay. You mainly need to know that Lucas and Elizabeth have found forgiveness and moved past old doubts and fears to find one another again. This picks up about a week after their new engagement. This story will be more strongly focused on passion, but it will not move into "M" territory (perhaps a very strong T). There will be physical, married love, but I promise it will be romantic and tasteful, more suggestive than explicit. I hope you enjoy this first chapter.

Secret Hearts

Chapter 1

"Lucas," breathed Elizabeth, as she felt the soft brush of his beard against her neck.

It was a heavenly way to wake up, she thought dreamily, as she lay on their picnic blanket beneath their favorite tree. The warm summer wind moved languidly through the leaves above, the tall grass below, the lazy buzz of bees and the song of a swallow competed with the pounding of her pulse in her ears. The last thing she'd remembered was leaning against Lucas's side, their backs to the tree trunk, as he'd read to her from a book of romantic poetry.

She was deliciously drowsy from Gustave's gourmet luncheon, from a glass of sweet wine, and Lucas's rich voice, perfectly suited for poetry. These sensations combined, she'd drifted off, awakening to find herself on her back, her fiancé whispering poetry near her ear, his hot breath trembling through her:

Had we but world enough and time

This coyness lady would be no crime…

An hundred years should go to praise

Thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze;

(Here, Lucas punctuated the verse with sweet kisses atop her closed eyes and on her smooth forehead)

Two hundred to adore each breast (His shaking hands skimmed lightly over her gently rising bosom.)

But thirty thousand to the rest… (He pressed his warm lips to her flushed cheek, and then the scented curve of her neck.)

An age at least to every part,

And the last age should show your heart.* (And he rested his palm upon her pounding heart.)

Then, overcome by passion, he abandoned poetry for her wine-stained mouth, drinking her in, fine cotton against cool linen, fingers delving into soft, rose-scented tresses, while her small hands pulled his strong chest to hers.

"Marry me," he entreated between hot kisses. "Marry me tomorrow."

"Yes," she replied, although he'd asked as much every day since they'd become engaged again.

"Hmmm," he hummed in appreciation, before his tongue invaded her mouth with a thoroughness that had her seeing stars in the middle of the day.

They were alone on Elizabeth's private land, where the chances of anyone interrupting them were slim to none, and the temptation to give in to their desire was becoming more and more difficult as time wore on. They'd agreed that it was pointless (and torturous) to have a long engagement, and they had decided to formally announce their betrothal at their monthly community dinner—a Sunday barbecue in the town square—that was, until an observant Ally had noticed the engagement ring on Elizabeth's finger that morning before church.

Elizabeth had been wearing her ring on a chain around her neck for a week, waiting for a time when she could talk to Ally alone about her engagement. Not that she'd needed permission from the girl, or even her blessing, but she would tell her first privately out of courtesy of her feelings and respect for her father's memory.

Of course, Lucas hadn't been happy with this, but he'd understood and patiently waited. An inopportune fishing trip for Ally and her grandparents had stalled their plans, and by the time they'd returned, Elizabeth and Lucas had found that patience sorely tested by many a moonlit walk and passionate kiss after Jack had gone to bed.

But Ally's sudden tears and dramatic cry when she'd beheld the ring before Elizabeth could break the news, had led the teenager to run toward the pond.

"I thought she'd come to terms with things," said Lucas under his breath, for once allowing his frustrations to seep into his voice. When he moved to go after her, Elizabeth stopped him with a staying hand and a resolute look in her eyes. He nodded and watched her follow after the girl.

"I knew this would happen," said Ally, her voice muffled as she held her face in her hands, "but I didn't think it would hurt so much." Elizabeth sat beside her on the dock, momentarily at a loss.

"I'm sorry," she said gently. "But you seemed accepting of the idea that Lucas and I are together again. You know I adored your father, and we mean no disrespect to him or to you by this. We love each other, Ally, and we want to be together. Please understand."

"But Dad hasn't even been gone a year, Mrs. Thornton…"

She could say nothing to this, for of course, Elizabeth had felt her own trepidation about how this would look to everyone. Alone, she and Lucas had agreed that others' opinions hadn't mattered, that their love had been their own, that no one must be allowed to put asunder their commitment to one another. But in the face of her distraught student, she felt herself wavering. She gave no reply, but gathered Ally into her arms, trying to comfort her, shedding a tear herself at the girl's overwhelming grief and pain and the predicament she felt.

There had been no announcement that afternoon at the barbecue, and Elizabeth's ring had gone back upon the chain. She'd been unable to keep her secret from Rosemary, and her friend had solemnly agreed to keep it—for once, Elizabeth believed her. Rosemary, it seemed, had finally learned her lesson about interfering in Elizabeth's love life.

The following Wednesday, Lucas had arranged this surprise picnic, with Jack staying with Rosemary so they could be alone.

"Marry me," Lucas implored again, his lips hovering a breath above hers. "Run away with me…"

"What?"

"Let's elope, Elizabeth. I'm serious."

She stilled beneath him, then looked up into his eyes, warm and earnest as they looked down into hers. She moved to rise and he moved over to sit beside her on the blanket. He reached for her hands, touched the diamond ring that she wore now for his eyes alone.

"We could go to Union City, tell everyone we're going to see a play. I could arrange for a minister at a church there—"

"Lucas, that's—that's—" But she was at a loss. Was it crazy? Was it too romantic? Was it too ill-advised? She neither needed nor wanted another big wedding—she'd had that with Jack. With Lucas, she just wanted him, both physically and emotionally.

At her hesitation, Lucas saw he had an opening, so, as he would when closing a business deal, he turned up the charm. "This could be a compromise, Elizabeth. We could give Ally and the town the satisfaction of letting a respectable year elapse since Nathan's death, while allowing ourselves certain other…satisfactions…"

His hand moved up to capture a lock of hair blowing across her cheek to affix it gently behind her ear, caressing her skin absently before leaning in for another kiss to sweeten the deal. They distracted each other a few moments more as their kiss deepened, and he pulled away to see if his campaign had been successful.

"You know how much I want to be your wife," she said, "but what would it be like in those four months until the requisite mourning period was up? We would hide that we were married? You would sneak out to see me at night, sneak home again the next morning?"

Lucas's eyes sparked with interest at her suggestion. "It sounds wonderfully romantic to me, Elizabeth. Imagine the thrill of avoiding detection, of being secret lovers without the guilt and shame." His hands trailed tantalizingly up and down her bare arms.

She shivered at his touch, then smiled at his adventuresome spirit. "I admit that aspect of it sounds exciting, but not very practical. I mean, Jack would certainly notice if a man were staying the night in Mama's bedroom, and you know how young children can talk out of turn…Not to mention Rosemary. I can't hide anything from her; she'd figure it out the moment we got back from Union City. I've already stretched her self-control by asking her to keep our engagement secret for a week. Four months sitting on a secret wedding?" She shook her head doubtfully.

Lucas sighed, dropping his hands to rake them through his thick hair in agitation.

"I will, of course, do whatever you wish, but this option seems to me a way to please everyone. Is it impractical? Yes. Doomed to fail? Possibly. But then again, what makes you believe that come November, Ally will have accepted our engagement? She might never be able to, as much as she loves you. As for the town, there might be some talk as to the hastiness of a marriage so soon after Nathan's death, but the hard truth is, you and Nathan weren't engaged or married when he passed. You and I already had once before been in a committed relationship—those who know us will be accepting—those who tend to gossip will quickly tire of it once they see how happy we are."

She could certainly see the pragmatism in his words, and he'd made these points already, but the thought of Ally a few days before, crying her heart out at the pond, had haunted her every night since. She hated herself for allowing a teenager to dictate her life in this way, but since Nathan's death, and certainly before, she'd felt an almost motherly responsibility toward the girl, who'd had other mother figure in her life during her formative years. And, like a mother, she would never want to do anything to hurt an already traumatized child.

"We're not animals, Lucas; we can wait for four more months to uh, consummate our love."

At her words, Lucas gave an animal-like growl and pulled her back into his arms, lowering her to the blanket once more, hungrily ravishing her mouth, his hands gliding over her curves with passionate intent. She didn't push him away; indeed, she shared his fevered frenzy, her hands finding his hair, sliding over his strong back as he pressed his body completely over hers, giving her a sensual preview of what it would be like to finally be with him in their long-awaited marriage bed.

After a few heady moments he paused, breaths coming as fast as racing pulses.
"We could torture ourselves until November," he said raggedly, "or we could truly be together in just a few days. I've waited for you for five years, my love, please, deliver me—deliver us from this torment…marry me on Friday."

He kissed her again, deeply, expertly.

"You're not playing fair," she said, her voice trembling as much as her body. Sensing victory, he grinned. "All's fair in love and war. I'm only asking for what we both want, Elizabeth, for what we've both been waiting for for so long…at my back I always hear, Time's winged chariot hurrying near…"*

She rolled her eyes, adoring how unapologetically romantic he was, and yes, how great he was at making contracts. But she didn't feel manipulated, not at all. He understood her, understood her deep desires as well as her concern for others, and, in his own logical way, had allowed her to see a path through their quandary.

"All right, Mr. Bouchard, let's gather ye rosebuds while ye may* and elope to Union City."

"Really?" His dark eyes were filled with hope, and she reached up to press her hands to his bearded cheeks.

"Really," she said softly.

His expression suddenly became more serious. "I hope that you know, Elizabeth, that this isn't just about…consummation. I'm in love with you, and I want you to be my wife in every way. I want to share my life with you. I want to have children with you. I want to be with you every day for the rest of our lives. Given all that we've gone through to get to this moment, we were meant to be together, I know it in my heart."

"I believe that too," she said, her eyes watering with emotion. "And I want to be with you in every sense of the word, so I can't wait to be your wife. I love you so much that my heart feels ready to burst with it."

And then she pulled him down to her lips to seal the deal.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

The next day, Lucas used his formidable skill as a businessman and former governor to arrange their elopement. He had to add extra cash incentives since everything was on such short notice, but he had no doubt it would all be worth every penny. He reserved the honeymoon suite at the same hotel in Union City where they'd stayed when he'd taken her to see Virginia Woolf. He managed to find a minister at a small chapel near the hotel who could marry them on Friday afternoon. The minister would take care of witnesses, flowers, and a photographer.

He made arrangements for champagne in their suite along with fresh strawberries and a small cake, and reservations for dinner in the hotel restaurant—should they make it out of their room long enough, he thought with a grin. His body heated in anticipation of their of their wedding night. He'd imagined those intimacies since the day he'd met Elizabeth, had wanted to marry her very soon afterwards, so it seemed surreal that this might finally happen for them. Above everything, however, was the idea that the woman he loved more than life would be his wife at last. He said a silent prayer that everything would go as planned.

For her part, Elizabeth had to make arrangements with Rosemary to keep Jack over night. She hated keeping one of the most important days of her life from her friend, but she wanted Lucas all to herself, and she knew Rosemary would beg to go as a witness, but ultimately would end up taking over all the arrangements. She would tell her when they returned, and deal with any hurt feelings then.

At any rate, telling her they would be seeing "The Importance of Being Earnest" thrilled Rosemary so much that she showed more excitement and interest in the play than suspicion about their sudden, hasty trip to Union City.

"Oh, I was born to play Gwendolen! As a matter of fact, I received a standing ovation after my performance at the Athenaeum in Chicago! And the reviews after opening night, well…"

And Elizabeth listened with one ear as Rosemary prattled on about her long-ago triumph. So, needless to say, she agreed wholeheartedly to keep Jack so she and Lucas could enjoy the "uproarious spectacle" that was Oscar Wilde's comedy of manners.

Elizabeth's second errand in preparing for elopement was, of course, the question of what she would wear when she said her vows at last to Lucas. She could, of course, wear her best gown, perhaps the white and silver one she'd worn at the governor's ball long ago. Maybe the red dress she'd worn the first time she'd gone to Union City with Lucas. She sat on her bed a moment, dissatisfied with her choices. But then her eyes wandered up to the large white box she'd placed a year and a half ago on the very top of her wardrobe.

Her wedding dress.

About a month after Lucas had become governor, when he was in Capitol City, recovered enough to begin official duties, Rosemary had brought over the wedding dress she'd never worn, the one she'd never even tried on again after Rosemary had redone the disastrous meringue-like confection.

"I didn't know what to do with this," Rosemary had said. "I'd already finished the alterations before uh, well…" She'd trailed off awkwardly. "I suppose we could see if they would sell it for us in the dress shop…"

"I don't know," replied Elizabeth, her eyes watering. "I—let me think about it."

"Of course."

So Elizabeth had taken it, and, without even looking at the newly finished product, had stored the much lighter box on top of the high wardrobe, determinedly forgetting about it.

Until now.

She didn't know why she'd kept it. It hadn't even been the dress she'd initially picked out. At the time, she of course had believed she and Lucas were fated never to be together, but something had compelled her to keep it, to put it away, out of sight. Like her feelings for Lucas. A tinge of her former guilt washed over her, remembering. But Lucas had forgiven her, and she'd worked hard the past few months to forgive herself. Perhaps the dress could be a symbol now of how mistakes of the past could be altered into something beautiful.

She rose from her bed and, using the chair from her dressing table as a step-stool, climbed up and retrieved the white box. She carefully stepped down again, resting it on her bed. She grabbed a handkerchief from her bureau—she smiled when she saw it was one of Lucas's she'd collected and never returned—and brushed off the fine accumulation of test from the top. She untied the string and lifted the lid.

She parted tissue paper that was redolent of moth-deterring lavender and (ironically) rosemary, whose dried sprigs had successfully kept the insects at bay. She gently pulled out the dress, gasping at the satin elegance that Rosemary had fashioned after removing miles of obnoxious tulle. It was a simple, sleeveless column-not quite the mermaid style of Rosemary's original imagining, but classic and form-fitting, and would lovingly cling to her natural curves. With the discarded tulle, Rosemary had made a lace-trimmed veil, which would drape and fall romantically to the floor.

"Oh, Rosemary," she whispered, in awe. Her heart racing, she took off her day dress and slipped on the heavy satin, then stood before her cheval mirror to admire her friend's creation. Yes, she thought, tears in her eyes, this would be perfect. She couldn't wait for Lucas to see her in it.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

That evening, Lucas came over after Jack was already in bed, excited to share with her the plans he had made, omitting a few little surprises, of course.

"I can't believe we're doing this," she said, her eyes sparkling into his.

"Second thoughts?" he asked, and she stilled. "I mean," he hastened to add, "about eloping."

"None at all. I've put away my fears entirely, Lucas. This is what I want. You are who I want."

"I know." They sat on her porch steps, and he found her hands in the darkness. "All of our doubts are behind us now. Let's dwell on the future."

He sweetly kissed her then, and she rested her head against his arm with a sigh of happiness. "Just think of where we will be this time tomorrow."

"Just think of what we'll be doing this time tomorrow," he said suggestively near her ear. She shivered in mutual longing.

"I can't seem to think of anything else," she admitted, her cheeks rosy.

He chuckled softly. "I think that bodes well for a happy future together, my love."

A/N: The critics out there who say their relationship was only about "lust" obviously have never been deeply, passionately in love before. The two go hand-in-hand, my romantic heart believes, and on screen, these two had chemistry galore, and their relationship was far more than lust. They had similar hopes and dreams, similar interests and backgrounds. Those things make a great foundation, but along with that, there is the necessity of passion. But if this isn't your cup of tea, I understand.

I hope to see you all back for chapter 2! Thanks for reading.

*from "To His Coy Mistress," by Andrew Marvell, 1681

*from "To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time," by Robert Herrick, 1648