Epilogue
One week later…
Disappointed that Juliet had not shown up to witness his impressive win, Eric dragged his weary, sweat-soaked body into their modest foyer.
Although all of the hallway sconces were lit, Juliet wasn’t there to greet him.
Since this was unlike her, his heart dropped to his feet. Hopefully, she wasn’t unwell.
He searched the kitchen for Mrs. Paulson and his post-fight sustenance, but found neither, as the kitchen was dark and empty.
His limbs heavy, from both physical exhaustion and concern for his household, he climbed the stairs and lumbered to his bedchamber. He pushed on the door and entered the room to a resounding, “Happy one-week anniversary!”
He yelped as his heart pounded against his chest. So much for being an intrepid warrior, because four grinning women had just scared the shite out of him.
Mrs. Paulson, Betty, Esther, and Juliet stood behind a candlelit, food-laden table, creating a benign, far from terrifying scene.
Chuckling, he dropped his bag and rubbed at his thumping heart.
“Did you win?” Juliet asked.
“Of course he did,” Mrs. Paulson said. “He always wins.”
Eric nodded. “I knocked Spider out in the fourth round.”
“Yay!” Juliet clapped.
Mrs. Paulson approached and kissed him on the cheek. “That’s my boy.”
“Congratulations, Mr. Stone,” Betty said. Esther echoed the sentiment.
Their staff left the room, calling out “happy anniversary” and “good night.”
Once they were alone, Juliet rushed to him, grabbed his arm, and dragged him behind the dressing screen. To his surprise, steam rose from his tub, and a dozen strategically placed flickering candles cast the space in a romantic, amber glow.
“I know you prefer cold baths after fights,” Juliet said. “But I wanted a hot bath to celebrate our anniversary.”
“Who filled the tub?” he asked.
She rested her hands on her hips. “We did.”
“The four of you lugged boiling water up the stairs?” Now that he didn’t have Flynn to assist him, he toted the water, considering it practical athletic training.
“Yes.” Her chin punctuated her one-word answer with an emphatic dip. “We worked hard, so I would like to know why you are still standing there with your clothing on?”
Good question. Eric was naked in seconds flat.
His muscles were so relaxed he was akin to a bowl of boiled oats.
Eric leaned against the side of the tub.
Juliet rested her back against his torso, her legs stretched out between his.
The scent of her lilac soap wafted to his nostrils, and her unbound hair tickled his cheek.
As much as he was enjoying their time together, he needed to find some energy because Knight Roamer had a daunting night ahead of him.
While massaging soap into Juliet’s shoulders, Eric’s thoughts drifted to a disconcerting discussion that had occurred during his wedding brunch.
Theodore Ravenforde had approached Fletcher and whispered in his ear.
After they’d left the women, they sought out Alexander.
It was then that Eric realized something was amiss.
His suspicions were confirmed once the four of them were alone, and Theodore declared, “I have it on good authority, my cousin Micheal to be precise, that Leon escaped from prison.”
Fletcher had used fuck as every part of speech, whilst Alexander looked as if someone had knifed him in the gut.
“Who is Leon?” Eric had asked.
First, the men explained that Theodore was Eric’s secret half-brother, which was quite shocking since Theodore was Lord Ravenforde’s heir. However, at his first meeting with Alexander he’d told Eric such a situation existed.
Next, Theodore explained that someone named Phineas had helped Leon, the man who was in love with Chesterhill’s second wife, escape from prison.
“If Leon somehow frees the marchioness from the West End Hospital and Asylum for Wayward Women, all of our lives are in danger,” Alexander had added.
“She’s already tried to kill Theo, Charlotte, and Hugh.
I fear Emily will be her next target. She has some misguided notion that if my father dies and she is free to marry me, she can rule over the marquessate with unfettered power.
There is so much wrong with her assumption, but it does not stop her from trying to bring her dangerous delusions to fruition.
As the great bard would say, the woman is a ‘lump of foul deformity.’”
That night, while Eric spent time with his new wife, Fletcher and his men moved the mad marchioness to an undisclosed, guarded location. Since then, Eric had made it his mission to find Leon and return him to his prison cell.
“I can feel you thinking about something quite serious,” Juliet said. “And I’d prefer you concentrate on me.”
Swiveling, she faced him. Condensation clung to the ends of her silky hair, and her cheeks were flushed from the heated water. She grabbed his cock in her tiny palm, and his mind went blank.
It took a great deal of effort to form words, making it a miracle that he was able to articulate anything at all. “You have my full attention, Sunshine,” he managed to say.
“Good,” she purred against his mouth. Her taunting tongue traced his lips as her hand slid up and down his length.
He was sure he had some place he was supposed to be, but damn if he could remember where that was.
She straddled him and lowered herself onto his cock.
Clutching her hips, he guided her body up and down as she rode him.
Despite the water smoothing some of their internal friction, his body hummed with pleasure as her stiff nipples scraped against his chest. There was nothing more seductive than Juliet’s flushed cheeks, parted lips, and lust-filled eyes, as she chased her pleasure.
“That’s it, darling, fuck me,” he encouraged her between kisses.
Moaning, she slammed her arse against his lap repeatedly.
It didn’t take long for her walls to quiver around his girth. She threw her head back and cried out in ecstasy. Eric grunted and then exploded, following her into bliss.
She rested her forehead on his shoulder. They steadied their ragged breathing as they held each other until the water grew tepid.
Fully naked and deliciously tupped, Juliet rested her back on the headboard, cradling Eric’s head on her lap. She held a piece of cheese to his lips whilst he nibbled.
“Did we surprise you?” she asked.
He swallowed the last bite before saying, “Didn’t you watch me jump out of my skin?”
She giggled as he nipped at her now-empty fingers. “I thought you would enjoy a bath and a repast before your adventures tonight.”
“You are making it difficult for me to leave. Honestly, I would prefer to curl up with you.”
“Then stay.”
He sighed. “I have one more thing I must see to. Once it is taken care of, I will only go out a couple of times a week.”
She respected Eric’s need to punish the wicked and protect the innocent. In fact, it was one of the things she loved most about him. Still, there were nights it was hard to share him with the world. However, no matter what, she would always do her part by supporting him.
“Would you like more to eat?” She inclined her chin toward the food that Mrs. Paulson had prepared for them.
“No. I’m full,” he said.
“Then why are you trying to eat my fingers?”
He gnashed his teeth, then clamped down on her index finger. “Because you taste so good,” he declared with his mouth full.
“Silly man.” She tapped his shoulder with her free hand. “Get up for a moment.”
He let go of her finger and pulled her head forward, kissing her from her upside-down position. Since he tasted like cheese, honey, and berries, she hated to pull away, but she still had more planned for their celebration.
“I have presents for you,” she said.
“I think you’ve already given me quite enough.” He winked. “A thorough tupping, and delicious dainties, including fingers.”
She playfully rolled her eyes, then slid her gaze over their chamber. “But you gave me this beautiful house.” She tapped his shoulder again, reminding him that he needed to sit up. “Besides, ’tis our one-week anniversary, so we must celebrate.”
Exhaling dramatically as if she’d asked him to swim to the continent, he lifted his head so that she could slide out from beneath him.
His gaze heated her bare backside as she padded across the room to grab the wrapped packages.
She swung her hips, hoping to taunt him.
By the time she returned to bed, he was propped against the headboard, his disheveled hair evidence that he’d recently been tupped, and his torso muscles popped as if he’d just used them.
Since she’d done most of the work in the tub, she assumed that his recent mill was responsible for his engorged pectorals and biceps.
She curled up beside him, handing him the smaller package that she’d wrapped in brown paper and string.
He ripped it open like an excited child. His eyes widened as he held up The Secret Life of Gentlemen. “Where did you get this?”
Her cheeks caught fire, which was silly, seeing as how they’d made love numerous times a day for the past week. “There is a bookstore in Mayfair that has naughty books in the basement.”
His eyes gleaming with mischief, he flipped through it, emitting guttural sounds.
She half-heartedly walloped his shoulder.
“Ouch.” He rubbed out the spot she’d targeted. “No more punching lessons for you.”
“Soon I will be able to knock you out.” Of course, she would never be able to knock him out, but she’d enjoyed her lessons this past week. Hopefully, someday she’d be able to defend herself from bandits and men like Charles.
“You already knock me out, darling,” he said as he waggled his eyebrows. “With those long, luscious legs and your beautiful hazel eyes.”
“Insufferable man,” she said in jest because the truth was, she loved how playful he’d become in her presence.
“Seriously, I love the book, and we shall put it to good use.” He kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”