Epilogue
Duchess Freya
As I gaze down at my son, I feel a tenderness rise to fill me.
“Still fast asleep, Your Grace?”
“Mmm,” I murmur, so not to stir the future duke.
“Shall I take him to his nurse?” My lady’s maid, Kate, inquires in a reverent whisper.
“Please,” I say as I hand him to her. My eyes do not leave his soft, slumbering face until the door closes behind her.
Then I withdraw from the dressing room and into my bedchamber just as the door opens. I smile to see Gregor fill in the doorway.
“Someone would like to bid you goodnight.” He stands aside and a tiny imp rushes into the room, her strawberry-blond curls streaming behind her.
“Mama!”
I crouch and throw my arms open to catch her, pulling them tightly around her wriggling body so I might lift her. “Good night, sweetling.” I press a kiss to her head while she snuggles deeper into my embrace. “Have you had a very good day, my darling?”
“Yes! Papa! Horses!”
Over the top of her head, I meet his gaze. He is beaming at the two of us, and the warmth in his eyes reaches across the room to touch me with its gentle heat.
“We went to the stables,” he explains. “I told her she might have her own pony when she is old enough.”
“She is too tiny,” I say at once, but when his eyebrow arches in silent reproach, I duck my head.
Violet looks up, her eyes traveling to-and-fro between us. “Horse? Mama? Papa?”
“When you are old enough, as Papa says,” I say, pressing another kiss to her feather-soft cheek. “Good night, dearest. Have only the sweetest dreams.”
I have been so enraptured with my perfect daughter I did not see the nurse step into the room. I take no notice until she is reaching for the child. I give Violet one more squeeze before I relinquish her into her nurse’s tender care.
Gregor turns to watch them depart, then closes the door behind them. When he looks at me, there is a somber authority in his eyes I have come to know well. “Are you ready to speak, my lady?”
My stomach flutters and my throat constricts, but I nod.
“Our guests will be here soon,” he reminds me, “so we must see this dealt with quickly.”
“Yes, my lord,” I agree.
He has already crossed the room in long-legged strides, and bends so that his lips catch my words. “I see you are quite agreeable tonight,” he remarks after he has kissed me.
“Yes, Daddy,” I whisper.
“Good lass. Remove your gown.”
I take it off, but I am not in haste, for as my husband circles me, I know his eyes are drinking in every movement. His eyes make it known he likes no moment more than the one right before I am completely bare and exposed to his hungry gaze. And in truth, I enjoy it quite well, too.
“You were a good lass while I was away,” he praises, his words soft as his eyes move up and down my body.
“You were gone far too long,” I say, my tone and countenance sulky.
“Do not pout, it is unbecoming a duchess,” he scolds, his finger flicking the hard, stiff peak of my nipple.
“I am told you took very good care of our children, and you were an excellent mistress.” He moves to stand behind me and kisses my nape, his arms drawing me close when I shiver. “So there is but one matter to deal with.”
I go still in his arms. “Whatever can you mean, Your Grace?”
A swift, sound smack echoes throughout the room and my right hindquarter smarts. “Daddy!” I correct myself. “Whatever can you mean, Daddy?”
“You did not wait for me.” He moves to stand in front of me I can see the way his dark eyes gleam.
“Did I not tell you I should know if you were naughty?” His smile flashes, and he resembles a hungry wolf.
He slides his hand down my body and cups my hot, quivering sex, and I am overtaken by desire.
“You promised,” he says, his words a reminder and a chastisement all at once.
“You were gone… very long,” I say, whimpering at his firm, commanding touch. How I long to feel him—tongue, fingers, or his shaft! Any part of him!—inside me.
“As you knew I would be. That does not change the fact you are forbidden to take your pleasure when I am not here to watch.” His face is a perfect study in contradiction—solemn, yet fierce. Amused, yet stern. “Do you deny it?”
I shake my head at once. Nearly two years of marriage has taught me the benefits of swift confession. “I do not, my—Daddy.”
He tuts his tongue, but there is a devious fire in his gaze that tells me he is pleased. “We must be in haste. Our guests will be here soon, and I do not think you wish to explain our tardiness to the Crown Pricne, do you?”
It is our first ball, and we will be honored by the presence of many members of the royal family, but I can think of no one save the duke just now. “No, Daddy, I do not.”
“Good—then recall that and do as I bid you, lass.” He cannot seem to resist trailing his hand along the curve of my body. “Whatever shall I do with you, my lady?”
I shake my head, for I know nothing except that I cannot wait to find out.
Duke Gregor
“Ah, Your Grace! At last!”
I bow. “Your Highness, how marvelous to see you. Thank you for attending—I know this evening is made the richer for your presence.”
James looks at me and laughs. “Do dispense with the formalities, Gregor, and have a seat.”
“I do not recall giving instructions for games,” I remark as I take a seat at the Crown Prince’s instruction.
“I know. You shall be pleased to note that I corrected the mistake at once!”
“What shall we play?”
James gives me a roguish smile as he begins to shuffle the deck of cards. “Whatever fate fancies this evening. There is a new man coming—you will like him, I rather think. He reminds me of you.”
“Ah, as lucky as he is handsome?” I reach for the glass a servant has put before me.
“As arrogant as he is of unremarkable countenance,” James corrects, the cards falling neatly from one hand to the next.
“Indeed.” I lift my glass to toast my friend before sampling the fine whiskey.
There are voices behind us, and when I turn to greet them I see two men bowing to the prince.
James bids them to sit with a wave of his royal hand.
“Your Grace, it has been awhile since I have had the pleasure.”
I smile as Lord Carlisle takes the seat beside me. “Ah, well met, old friend!”
“In your cups already?” I hear the prince murmur, but I ignore him.
“Marriage seems to agree with you. Two children already, I hear.”
I nod, unable to keep the smile from my face. “Yes, Her Grace and I are most fortunate.”
“Perhaps fortune will favor more than one of us this evening, my lords. Oh—Your Grace, please allow me to introduce you to the newest viscount of Ruinanne, Andrew Cavendish.”
I look at the man my friend has indicated. The new viscount is tall, with sandy blond hair, and clearly very young. I greet him warmly. “Well met, my lord.”
“Thank you for extending an invitation, Your Grace.”
“Yes, yes, now that all the formalities are out of the way, shall we play?” The prince asks.
I observe my friend more closely. He seems rather agitated tonight, but this is far from the proper venue to make inquiries. “Indeed, Your Highness.”
“Perhaps you can give the duke a run for his money, my lord,” the prince says to the viscount. “Has His Grace ever told you how his last wager worked out?”
The young man looks at me shyly, then back to the prince, clearly ill at his ease. “Ah, no, Your Highness.”
“Well, then, let us play! We shall have cards, and drink, and stories besides!”
I chuckle and regard the men assembled. In truth, while I shall never turn down a wager, there is nothing for me to win this night. I have had more favor than any man ought to be allowed.
“Your Grace,” Prince James captures my attention as he moves the deck of cards between his hands, shuffling skillfully. “Do you think Fortune favors you this eve?”
I cannot stop a smile from curving my lips. “Truly, Your Highness, I tell you: she has never stopped.”
THE END