Epilogue
THREE MONTHS LATER
Lydia placed a hand on her belly, the slight curve there. Alexander didn’t yet know she was with child; she would tell him soon, but she knew he would immediately become overprotective, wanting to wrap her up in silk and wool.
She wanted at least one last hurrah.
They glided arm-in-arm through Lady Penelope Granford’s ballroom. Her old friend had married the Earl of Granford a month prior, and was celebrating the match with a grand ball.
When it was over, Lydia and Alexander would take the long trip back to York and Halston Manor, but she enjoyed having the option of visiting their townhouse in London. She especially enjoyed appearing at events on Alexander’s arm as the Duchess of Halston.
“I rather like my new title,” she murmured for his ears alone as they surveyed the room.
“Oh?”
“Yes. Don’t you think it suits me perfectly?”
“I think anything of mine suits you perfectly.” He led her to the center of the room. “Would you like to dance with me, Your Grace?”
“I would be delighted to, husband.” She smiled as he brought her hand to his mouth, eyes glinting wickedly.
No matter. She had wicked plans of her own.
Seduce him—she now rather thought she had a knack for it—then take him home and reveal the existence of their child growing in her womb. Then, before he could panic about her health and well-being, seduce him again.
It was a failsafe plan.
Mr. and Mrs. Godwin appeared on their other side, Eliza’s cheeks flushed from the glass of wine in her hand.
“Have you heard from Marie?” she asked without preamble. “I last heard she was in Venice having the time of her life.”
“And yet when I ask you whether you would like to travel, you inform me that you dislike ships and carriages and would rather remain in England.”
“Well, so I do. Marie may have a delightful time, yet still I may not wish to join in her adventures.”
“There is no doubting that Lord Harrogate dotes on her,” Alexander said, the tremor of a laugh in his voice.
“Well, she is so mild-mannered and placid. I imagine she is easy to adore,” Mr. Godwin smirked.
Eliza’s eyes lit with the familiar light of battle.
Recently married, and they still bickered as though they were mortal enemies.
Yet Lydia saw the amused, adoring glances that Samuel sent Eliza, and the coy, flirtatious glances that Eliza—when she was not preparing to verbally eviscerate him—sent in return.
If that was what made them happy.
Lydia preferred an entirely different sort of joy.
“Shall we dance?” she asked Alexander politely, and he put both hands on her waist, ignoring the scandalized whispers. London had not yet had its fill of the young duke and his open affection for his pretty wife.
Lydia adored that, too. For so long, Alexander had hidden away, his cards close to his chest and his emotions suppressed. Now, he wore them on his sleeves, and they largely seemed to consist of happiness.
“I am not being too scandalous,” he rumbled in that deep baritone of his, drawing her up against his solid body. “It is a waltz.”
She arched a brow. “This is not how gentlemen and ladies ordinarily dance the waltz.”
“No?” He didn’t look away from her, his blue eyes steady and warm. “I can never tell.”
Laughing, she leaned up a little, bringing her mouth to his ear. “Do you enjoy them watching us while knowing that when we return home, you will have your way with me?”
His eyes sparked a little as she rested back on her heels. “Perhaps…”
“Have you planned what you wish to do with me?” She licked her lips deliberately, and his gaze dropped to them. “Perhaps what you would like me to do with my mouth…”
This time, his voice was considerably lower as he said, “Most certainly.”
“Perhaps I won’t wait until we’re back,” she said, pretending to think. “There is bound to be an empty room here. Or a corridor… You could push me against a wall, and I’ll hold my skirts out of the way, just like you did in the lakehouse. Do you recall?”
“One of my most treasured memories,” he murmured, moving absently to the pulse of the music, swirling her gracefully around the room. “You had better not move away, or we’ll risk scandalizing the general populace far more than I had already intended tonight.”
“So… is that a yes to dragging me away to have your terrible way with me?”
“It is becoming increasingly tempting.” His hand slid a fraction lower on the small of her back, and although she had long since planned this to cross her final item off the list, arousal fluttered through her. “You are remarkably distracting.”
“I intend to be even more so over dinner.”
“Oh? Do tell?”
She grinned. “That would spoil the surprise.”
“May I remind you that due to my elevated status in society, eyes will be on us at almost all times.”
“Then,” she said, pressing closer, another shiver of lust running through her, “you had better keep quiet.”
Due to not wanting to actually ruin their reputation in the eyes of their peers, Lydia waited to ravish her husband until they arrived at their London townhouse. The moment they entered the door, she took Alexander’s hand and led him to their bedchamber.
“I have something to tell you,” she said as he helped her from her gown. Despite his urgency, he treated her clothes with respect, taking care to rip nothing, and her heart swelled with love for him.
“What is it?” He kissed her deeply, slipping a hand between their naked bodies to ensure she was ready for him. She was—she had been ever since their waltz, and now her body hummed with desire. At the feeling of her slickness, he groaned, as though he had never felt the force of her need for him.
She would never not need him…
Together, they maneuvered themselves to the bed, and although she had made all sorts of promises about the things she would do with her tongue, they were both too impatient to wait.
He guided her above him, and she sank down with a little sigh; sometimes it felt as though she belonged here, and all the rest of the time she was merely waiting to seat herself on him again.
“Lydia?” he asked as she ground above him. “What do you have to tell me?”
Pleasure broke her thoughts wide open, filling her with light. She never felt more whole than she did when she was with Alexander like this—nothing but his hands on her and his voice murmuring terms of adoration, and his body reminding her with every thrust how much she meant to him.
Here, she could hide nothing from him.
In answer, she took his hands and placed them on her stomach. “I… We, are growing are family.”
Underneath her, he tensed. His eyes widened and raised to hers. “Be serious, Lydia. Are you telling me—”
Her eyes burned with ready tears—one moment, she had been so aroused, she had been unable to think of anything else, and now she was overcome with adoration for her husband and the family they were making together.
It had not been a smooth road, but they were finding their way down it together.
“I love you,” she moaned desperately. “So… very… much.”
His large hands traced the subtle bump across her stomach, so slight it was practically invisible. Yet still there.
“This is…” he whispered, and when he next looked at her, his eyes glistened with the same emotion she felt in her chest. “This is—Lydia, this is the best news… How long have you known?”
She shook her head. “Not long. A few weeks. I had to wait until I was certain. I spoke with a midwife and she believes I’m around three months along, according to my last bleeds.”
“Three months.” He cupped her stomach as though he could cradle the child within.
“Are you happy?” she asked.
“Ecstatic!” He drew her down for another kiss. “Are you?”
“Incandescently so,” she whispered, smiling against his mouth, fresh tears running down her face. “This is everything I could ever have hoped for.”
“And more,” he said firmly. “Far more than I could ever have dreamed of for myself.” A new thought occurred to him. “But what were you doing in London if you knew—”
“Shh.” She placed a finger against his lips. “I am perfectly well.” The nausea had already passed, and truth be told, she felt better than ever.
“Tomorrow, we return to the manor,” he said.
“All right.” She rolled her hips. “But for now, dearest, can you please ravage me? I’ve been waiting so very long.”
“You know I can deny you nothing.”
She smiled, even as he reached for the sensitive nub of nerves between her legs. “That’s because you love me.”
“And,” he breathed, holding her so gently she felt like crying all over again, “I always will.”
The End?