Epilogue
One year later…
Georgina sat before her pretty writing desk in her beautiful receiving room and gazed across the sunlit chamber, through the unencumbered windows, to the sparkling sea beyond.
She rubbed a hand over her mammoth belly and murmured to the babe within, as she often did.
“One day, your father will take you on one of his sea-bathing adventures with him, dear one. I can tell by the way you kick kick kick, you’ll be an avid swimmer, just like he is. ”
“Is that so?” came her husband’s seductive drawl.
Delight filling her, she turned her head and looked toward the open doorway where Teddy leaned against the jamb, tall and vital, feet crossed at the ankles. His hair was combed back and still damp from his recent swim. He had a towel slung over his neck, and a lazy smile curving his lips.
He was so utterly gorgeous.
As she watched, he straightened, kicked the door shut, then shifted to lock it.
Oh my. Heat coiled through her as she imagined—all right, hoped—just why he’d shut them in at just half past noon.
She’d been fiendishly attracted to him, seemingly for forever, but ever since she’d conceived, some seven months ago, she’d turned downright insatiable where Teddy was concerned.
Luckily, he didn’t appear fazed by her increasing carnal demands. Indeed, he often claimed he had developed sympathy “hunger pains” for her.
She lumbered to her feet, breath going choppy anticipating what lay ahead, and where. Atop the sofa? Standing, facing the mantle, Teddy behind her? Or maybe he planned to clear her desktop of her writing implements to use it for another purpose…
Whatever the case, it wouldn’t do to appear too eager, she decided, reading the cocky, all-too-sure expression on his face.
She lifted her chin and started toward him, drinking in the vision he made.
They’d arrived only a few days before, to enjoy a small getaway prior to her confinement in anticipation of her birthing their first child, and, of course, in celebration of their first anniversary as man and wife.
He’d surprised her with the suggestion as, in addition to his parliamentary duties and myriad responsibilities to his estates, he spent a great deal of time with her father—and his—volunteering his services at the Royal Hospital Chelsea.
“You’re back early,” she said, affecting a flippant air. “I thought we decided to skip luncheon in favor of high tea as we did indulge in a quite late breakfast.” In bed, following a leisurely morning of lovemaking.
His knowing grin never faltered. “I wasn’t thinking of lunch, though I have a taste for something. Can’t quite put my finger on what, however.”
He sauntered to meet her, then bent to brush his lips over hers in a lingering, feather-soft kiss. “How comes your work on the new novel?”
He managed to pull her attention off of ravishing him—or vice-versa—with his question.
Several months ago, she had closed out the series of novels featuring Lady Celeste and Lord Terrence, telling her editor and publisher, Gwen, she wished to leave the two in peace to live their lives and would thereafter begin work on a new series of novels centered on a new hero and heroine.
When asked why a new series, she hadn’t been able to formulate a precise answer. She simply had a sense, a niggling, that another character wished his story told. Annoyingly, that character had yet to show himself.
Something in her expression must have told Teddy she had made no progress today.
He laughed, rubbed the tip of his nose against hers while tracing the lower curve of her belly with the fingertips of both his hands. “Not to worry, pet. Why do you think I brought you here? I’m certain your muse will put in an appearance before long.”
“I’m glad one of us thinks so,” she breathed, eyes drifting shut. “I’ll give you just fifteen minutes to stop doing that,” she added with a sigh, arching into his touch.
“Feels good?” he asked in a voice gone distinctly gruff, his magic hands traveling higher to caress the underside of her ultra-sensitive, full-to-bursting breasts.
The area between her legs went hot and damp as if he touched her there. God, she wanted him to touch her there. “You know it does,” she answered huskily.
“Come,” he whispered. Taking one of her hands, he led her in a lazy stroll toward the sofa—which answered the question of where.
A long time later, the two of them lay in a tangled heap atop the cushions, their clothing still on for the most part, if in wild disarray.
“Thank you,” she murmured, cheek and ear pressed to his chest, listening to the steady thump thump thump of his heart.
“I could say the same to you,” he said in a low voice. He fingered one of her escaped corkscrew curls.
She giggled and swatted him lightly on the arm. “Not for that, silly. For bringing me here, just the two of us. I know how busy life in London keeps you these days.”
“Ah. In that case, you’re welcome. In truth, I needed the break from my father and yours. Who would have known Lord Belfry would wish to spend every waking minute—both his and mine—volunteering at hospital?”
“You, my darling. He’s like a different person since he began helping the veterans—all thanks to you.”
“I don’t know about that. I merely believed—hoped—honoring his son’s memory in that way might help alleviate the pain he’s been trying to mask.”
She snuggled into him. “Drake deserves honoring. All the men do, for their sacrifice.”
“They do. In truth, your father was never a bad sort, just…”
“Selfish?” she put in.
“And avoidant. But not unfeeling. That prize goes to the earl. Good Lord, when he showed up to the hospital several months ago out of the blue to do the rounds with your father and me, I wouldn’t have believed it was him, had I not seen the man with my own two eyes.
In all my life I never knew him to have a philanthropic bone in his body—or an ounce of interest for what interested me, his son and heir. ”
She lifted her head to fold her hand on his chest and dropped her chin onto it. “He seems to have turned over a new leaf following the debacle with your cousin and Catherine and—”
“And having me locked up, then escaping—thanks to the machinations of my clever little fake wife—in time to save him? Yes, it would seem he has changed, to some degree, at least. He’s…
trying. He says he wants to be part of his grandchildren’s lives.
” He blew air out of his cheeks as if the notion that his father actually cared for him stymied him.
Abruptly, she replayed his last words. “Grandchildren, you said, as in multiple?”
His twinkling caramel-colored eyes met hers. “I might’ve mentioned to the earl how much the idea of several miniature Georginas running around appeals to me.”
So much love filled her heart that it began to leak out the corners of her eyes.
“None of that, now, Lady Arlington.” He swiped his thumb over the salty droplets on either side of her face, and huffed out a wry chuckle. “I admit I might have been attempting to chase him from the room by my vulgar display of plebeian emotion.”
“And did you succeed?” she whispered, tracing her fingertips over the emerging stubble on his cheek.
Bemusement filled his melted-caramel eyes as they met hers. “He said he rather liked the idea of a girl and a boy—and a chance to right the wrongs he did me, his only son.”
“Oh, my darling. My dearest love.”
“I won’t let him mistreat our children, Georgina,” he said, his tone going steely.
“Of course you won’t,” she said. “I have no doubt but that you will be a magnificent father.”
“I meant it, you know, about wanting daughters, like you. I wouldn’t mind a son, though. We could name him Drake.’”
She’d thought she could not love him more. But it turned out her love for him increased by leaps and bounds, daily. “Yes,” she choked. Then, like a bolt of lightning from above, an idea flared to life inside her and she sat bolt upright.
Teddy, looking alarmed, jolted from the soft to his feet. “What is it? What’s wrong?” He surveyed her from head to toe, eyes wide.
She sent him a beatific smile. “I know who’s clamoring inside me for his own stories to be told.”
Teddy sagged as if weak with profound relief and lowered back onto the sofa beside her. “Indeed? Well? Who is it, then?”
“His name is Lord Leopold Drakus.”
He arched a brow at her. “Drakus? Really? And does he have curly dark hair, a devil-may-care smile, and a streak of integrity a mile wide?”
“How did you know?” She rose from the sofa and began to pace. “He’s an officer of the king’s army, deemed lost in battle, but who, in reality, woke up to find himself a captive in a beautiful woman’s home.”
Teddy gave her a fond smile. “I take it, a romance ensues?”
“But of course,” she answered and strode for her desk, as the outline for the new book began writing itself in her head.
It had not escaped her that she had written Teddy’s and her stories, only to have them come true, and she doubted Teddy had not reached the same conclusion.
But Drake’s body had never been recovered.
It stood to reason, he could be out there, somewhere, living his life, happy.
And one day, perhaps very soon, he would return to them.
And they would be one big, happy family.
Teddy rose, moved to her desk and planted a kiss atop her head. “Happy writing, my love.”
Quill in hand, she tilted her head back and gazed up at him with unabashed love.
His smile turned utterly indulgent and he bent to grasp the velvet ribbons that had previously tightened her bodice. “Before I reopen the door and Mr. Danvers comes in to reassure himself that you and the babe are hale and hardy, perhaps we should right your bodice, Lady Arlington, hmm?”
“Oh, dear,” she murmured. She had completely forgotten the state of her dishabille.
Teddy laughed his wicked laugh, and then, he kissed her.
The End
I hope that you have enjoyed reading Georgina and Teddy’s love story.