Epilogue
Firth House had sat atop the Cumberland cliffs since Tudor times, its Gothic facade scrubbed and wind-worn by storms rolling in from the Irish Sea.
Though not exactly a storm, it had rained solidly for the past three days; relentless, window-pelting drops that obscured the sea views and effectively trapped Julian and Annie indoors.
Not that Julian was about to complain. Annie didn’t appear to be too bothered about it either.
They’d kept themselves deliciously busy.
Besides, the house, fully staffed and catered, was theirs for an entire month, so they had plenty of time yet for exploring beyond the Firth’s rather splendid grounds.
Though the letter offering them the private use of Firth House had been signed by His Grace, the Duke of Rothbury, Julian was sure Her Grace had been the influence behind it. He couldn’t help but wonder if Josiah had a hand in it, too.
No matter. It was a generous gift.
On this, their fourth night, a cozy fire cast shadows around the rather splendid bedchamber. Julian, wearing only his underpants, was reclining atop the bed, propped up against the pillows, watching Annie, who was seated at the dressing table, brushing her hair by candlelight.
“You do realize I’m about to mess it up again,” Julian said. “The minute you climb into this bed, in fact.”
Annie laughed, set the brush down, blew out the candle, and wandered over to him, her silk nightgown molding to her curves. Julian, partly erect, shifted slightly, drawing her into his arms as she settled at his side. She heaved a soft sigh and trailed an idle fingertip down his breastbone.
“You’re not tired of me yet, then,” she said, her fingertip halting at his belly button.
“Not in the least.” He settled his hand over hers and pushed it lower, over the waist of his underpants. “There are some buttons awaiting your attention.”
Biting her lip, Annie reached down and stroked his erection through the fabric.
Julian hissed softly through his teeth and hardened further.
Then her fingers found the buttons, which fell open at her touch, and she reached inside.
“I just cannot believe how silky it feels,” she said, running her hand up and down his length, “or how rigid it is. It’s like steel. ”
Julian groaned “Give me strength, woman,” he muttered, lifting his hips.
To his utter delight, Annie had embraced the intimacies of the marriage bed with enthusiasm.
Being held to ransom by bad weather had been no hardship at all.
Other than the staff, who were more than discreet, Firth House was all theirs.
Day and night. “You drive me to madness.”
Annie smiled, sat up, and straddled him, pulling her nightgown off before guiding him into her.
He groaned again as she sank onto him, her hips moving slowly at first. Lips parted, eyes half-closed, she gyrated in a lazy fashion.
Julian, riding a growing wave of ecstasy, pushed up against her, a sensual resistance that brought a soft cry from her lips.
She met his upward thrusts with an ever-increasing rhythm, riding him with unabashed passion.
“Annie,” he muttered and reached up to caress her breast, pinching and tugging at her nipple. “You’re incredible.”
“My God, Julian,” she said, on a gasp, her head tilting back. “I…”
He inserted his fingers into the tight gap where their bodies were joined, heightening the stimulation of her most sensitive part.
She whimpered and he felt the beginning of her orgasm, the increased tightness, the rhythmic ripples of pleasure.
Annie let out a cry as her body went rigid, a response that pushed Julian off the edge, his own body tightening with the intensity of his climax.
Replete, they tumbled together on the bed, breathing hard. For a while they lay in the contented aftermath of their satisfaction, no words necessary. Julian allowed his thoughts to drift. “I think, this time next year, we’ll take a trip to Europe.”
“Europe?” Eyes wide, Annie turned to look at him. “Really?”
“Mmm. Belgium, Switzerland, Italy. What do you think?”
“It doesn’t appeal to me at all, Julian,” she replied, snuggling against him.
Julian feigned a dejected sigh. “Right, well, we’ll forget that then.”
“But I might change my mind,” she said, making him chuckle. “In the meantime, I confess I’m looking forward to the Season, though I’m not really sure what to expect.”
“Afternoon teas,” Julian replied, and pressed a kiss to her hair. “Parties, lots of them. Theater. Ballet. Rides in the park, weather permitting. Socializing all over town.”
“Goodness,” Annie replied. “It sounds dreadful.”
“Well, it might be challenging,” Julian said. “We have to bear witness to the twins trying, and failing, to behave appropriately.”
“Aww, you should have more faith in them. When it comes to finding a suitor, I suspect Evie will be quite selective. I hope she finds someone worthy of her. Someone who deserves her.”
“And Clara?”
Annie tutted. “Clara might enjoy the socializing, but I doubt very much she’ll be looking for a suitor. Louisa happens to be of the same opinion.”
Julian frowned. “And how, pray, did you both arrive at that conclusion?”
“We share a mutual suspicion that Clara is already enamored of someone.”
Julian shifted onto an elbow and regarded her. “Who?”
Annie waggled a brow and gave him a knowing smile. “I can’t believe you haven’t noticed.”
“Come on, Annie, who is it? As far as I know, Clara hasn’t been anywhere to meet anyone.”
“She was at our wedding.”
“Well, yes, of course.” Julian pondered a moment. “But everyone there, other than Taggart and Lloyd, was family.”
“Not everyone.”
“Who else…?” As realization sank in, his eyes widened. “Finlay? Maxwell’s brother? Is that who you mean? No. You’re mistaken, surely.”
“We don’t think so. First of all, how many times has she and Evie visited Northcott Manor in the past few weeks?”
“Numerous times, but that’s easily explained. Louisa’s condition means keeping travel to a minimum, so it makes sense the twins would go to see her rather than her traveling to Highfield.”
“True, but according to Louisa, Clara looks at Finlay the way I look at you. I watched her for a while on our wedding day, and it’s true. She appears to be besotted. She hardly took her eyes off him.”
Julian frowned. “Is it reciprocated?”
“It doesn’t seem to be,” Annie replied. “We don’t think Finlay is even aware of it.”
“Does Evie know?” Julian huffed. “Never mind, don’t answer that. Of course she knows.”
“Does it bother you?”
Julian pondered a moment. “No,” he said at last. “It doesn’t bother me at all. The heart has its reasons which reason knows not.”
Annie parted with a soft gasp. “Julian! What a lovely thing to say.”
“Can’t take the credit,” he replied. “A French fellow by the name of Pascal wrote it, apparently.”
“Well, I’m very impressed.”
“Actually, it was Josiah who said it to me the day I met you,” he said. “I told him all about you, Annie. How I felt about you. How it shouldn’t be possible to feel what I felt when I’d only known you for half an hour. It didn’t make sense. And yet, somehow, it did.”
Annie touched his face. “I felt the same, Julian,” she said. “When you walked away from me that day, I felt as though I’d made a terrible mistake, but there was no way to fix it. And yet, despite everything, here we are.”
“Yes, here we are,” Julian replied, drawing her closer. “As it should be.”
End of Book Two