Epilogue
“Oh, my goodness!” Adele clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide as she took in the sights around her.
Her movement jostled the boat that they were in, and she let out a yelp as the water rushed to meet her. She felt the familiar strength of Warner’s arm as he pulled her close to him. Sandalwood washed over her, and she leaned into the comforting warmth of her husband.
It had been three months since Warner had revealed the truth about his uncle. Three months since he had first kissed her. Three months since they had begun their lives as a married couple in more than name.
“If you get much more excited, we shall end up in the Siene.” His voice was full of amusement, and his breath tickled Adele’s skin.
“It is hard not to be excited.” Adele gestured around them. “Just look around us. That is Notre-Dame!”
The building towered above them as their bateau drifted along the river. The boatman steered them skilfully, giving Adele and Warner plenty of time to take in the majesty of the cathedral.
Her lips parted as she took it in, her eyes scanning every inch of it to commit it to memory. It was more beautiful than she had ever imagined. Imposing, strong, and yet deeply moving.
“It never stops being magnificent,” Warner agreed. “No matter how many times I see it. It is humbling and inspiring to think this will still be here, long after we are not.”
“A rather melancholic thought, dear husband.”
“Perhaps. But such thoughts remind us that our time is fleeting.” He gave her a mischievous smile. “Which is why I have no wish to spend time apart from you ever again. There is little enough time as it is.”
“You are utterly ridiculous.” She swatted at him playfully, even as his words tugged at warm happiness deep within her chest.
He caught her hand in his, the feel of his skin against hers sent a rush of warmth through her. He traced his thumb across the knuckles of her fingers.
“I thought was why you love me.” He grinned at her.
“It is one of the reasons I love you.” Adele squeezed his hand in hers.
He chuckled, the sound reverberating against her. “You make its sound as though there are many.”
“There are.” She gave him a mock severe look. “If I did not know you better, I would say you were fishing for compliments, dearest husband.”
“Can you blame me? Few men married to a woman as marvellous as you could resist the chance to hear you speak such sweet words about them.”
“And I suppose after orchestrating such a wonderful trip, you do deserve as many sweet whisperings as I can manage.” Adele looked around them, shaking her head. “I can scarcely believe this is real.”
“Just wait until we have visited the Rue de la Paix. I expect we shall need an extra carriage just to bring home everything you wish to buy.”
“I shall have you know, I plan on being restrained. I do not want to spend everything we have on shopping.”
“My darling, in this, I would have you show no restraint. This is my gift to you, and I have no wish for you to hold yourself back. In fact, I insist that you do not.” He ran his thumb across her cheek as he tilted her head up to face him. “Please, let me spoil you like you deserve.”
Her breath caught. “Well… if you insist.”
“I do.” He grinned at her. “Besides, I expect you will want to bring as much home with you for inspiration."
“That is true though I am more excited about the books I might bring back with us and our visit with some of the great seamstresses. Although, I will admit that I am not sure I will bring some of the French fashions back home.”
“Such as?”
“Dresses made of fabric so thing it leaves precious little to the imagination.”
“Surprising. I would have thought you would have loved the opportunity to test my self-control.”
“I have little need of a dress to do that.” She gave him an impish smile. “Besides, I suspect you would be less keen on the way other men might look at me in such a dress.”
Warner’s lips quirked downwards. “I would.”
“And as much as I enjoy this possessiveness, I have no wish for anyone but you to look at me like that.” Adele laughed and pressed a hand to his chest. “Although, the sheerness of the fabric I think could work well with British fabrics. I would not wish to be as immodest as continental women, but you could marry both the worlds and create something truly magnificent, I think. Though I imagine, it would take rather complicated needlework.”
“I love seeing you come alive like this.” Warner pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It is like sitting next to the sun; your joy is a glow to bask in.”
“Have you always been so poetic?” Adele teased, snuggling against his chest, her eyes taking in his sun-kissed skin. “Or is it simply that Paris brings out the romantic in you?”
“You bring out the romantic in me.” His eyes were full of a deep hunger and even deeper love that sent shivers down her spine.
Adele’s cheeks coloured at his look, and she rested a hand against his chest. His heart thumped against her. She inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of him, revelling in the warmth of his body.
“And what else do I bring out in you?” Her eyes were full of mischief as they found his.
“I think you know the answer to that.” His voice was a low growl.
“Perhaps I wish for you to show me.” She grinned at him, even as her heart sped in her chest. How can he still undo me so easily?
“Are you trying to tempt me, Adele?” He arched an eyebrow at her.
She pursed her lip thoughtfully. “That depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether or not it is working.”
Warner’s answering kiss was all the answer Adele needed. Fire flooded her, the feel of his lips against hers driving all the breath from her body. His kiss was gentle but urgent. His lips claiming hers, his fingers dancing along their skin.
Too soon, he drew back, eyes dancing in the noon sun. Adele’s heart beat a thunderous rhythm in her chest, and it was all she could do not to kiss Warner again.
“I see your love of dangerous games has not abated,” Warner teased, his fingertip gently caressing the side of Adele’s neck.
“How could it when you play such games so well?” Adele replied breathlessly. “Though I would say you too are playing a rather dangerous game, my love.”
A tiny shiver ran through Warner’s body at her words, his grin broadening. The smile was unguarded and honest, and it made her heart sing. How did I ever think him cold?
“I love it when you call me that.” Warner murmured, catching one of her hands in his and pressing it to his lips. “I do not think I will ever tire of it.”
“That is good because I have no intention of ever stopping it.” Adele kissed Warner’s cheek. “Especially when you look at me that way.”
“And what way would that be, my heart?” He canted his head towards her.
His words made Adele’s heart twist and flit around her chest like a bird trying to escape a room. “Like you can never get enough of me. Like you would choose me over even Aphrodite.”
“Why would I ever choose anyone else?” His eyes were serious as he looked at her. “You are the woman who reminded me what it was to be alive. You are the woman who holds my heart, and I would have it no other way.”
“You really are quite poetic when the mood suits you,” she teased.
“Perhaps I am simply a young lover in Paris. Or maybe it is simply that at long last, I have a muse.” His eyes glittered.
“I never thought I would be anyone’s muse.”
“And I did not think I would be anyone’s husband,” he teased.
“And do you regret it?”
“Not for a moment.” Warner’s gaze was full of fierceness. “I may not have planned for this, but I am glad that it happened. I love being a husband and everything that it entails. I love our little family.”
“It is not going to be little for much longer.” Adele swallowed, her heart twisting in her chest as her cheeks coloured.
“What do you mean?” Warner frowned and then jerked backwards, upsetting the boat so much that he earned some disapproving words from their French boatman. “Wait, are you?”
Adele nodded, her hand resting on her belly. “I am.”
Warner’s eyes widened. His eyes went from Adele’s face to her stomach and back again, mouth agape. He rested a hand over Adele’s on her belly.
“I am going to be a father.” His voice was hoarse with emotion.
“You are.” She nodded.
“Oh God.” He clapped a hand to his forehead, colour draining from his face. “What if I am no good at it?”
“Nonsense. You will be a wonderful father. I have no doubt of it.” Adele smiled at him.
He looked at her, face still white. “How can you have such faith in me?”
“Because I know you. I have seen the truth of you. I know what a kind and generous and funny and utterly ridiculous heart beats within you. After all, that is why I gave you my heart.” She swallowed around the lump in her throat.
“I have no doubt that you will shower this child with so much love. Our child will never know anything but adoration. Not a moment of loneliness. Only love.”
“But you do not know that.” Warner’s voice was small.
“I do, Warner. I know that as surely as I know my own name.” Adele cupped his face gently in her hand, stroking the faint stubble on his jaw. “That is why I love you.”
“I love you too.” Warner leaned into her touch and rested his own hand on her belly. “Both of you.”
Adele smiled at him, and he smiled back. She could see the same nervous excitement in his eyes that beat beneath her own chest, but she could also see his resolve.
“As long as I am with you, everything will be perfect,” Adele murmured.
Their boat continued its way down the seine. And for that moment, they were not a duke and his duchess. They were simply among the many lovers in Paris, excited for what the future would hold.
The End?