Epilogue
Benedict checked his pocket watch. “Make haste, El, or we shall be late.”
El pulled on her gloves slowly, in a way he knew she did deliberately just to be annoying. “How can we be late when I do not know to which we rush?” She nodded at his pocket watch. The one she had given him. “It looks well on you.”
He snapped it shut. “You say that every time.”
“Well, I mean it every time. I knew you would like that watch,” she said smugly.
“Yes, yes, you know me too well. Now hurry.”
“Do not rush me, Benedict. You know I shall then forget something and we will have to return, making us even later.”
He did know that. His wife was nothing if not consistent.
His wife. It still punched him in the chest, every time he thought of her as such. El was his wife. How astounding. How wonderful.
Five months they had been wed. They had married less than a fortnight after they had declared their love, Benedict correct in his statement the Earl would not quibble on a special licence.
It had been held at her townhouse, with his family and El’s friend, the Countess of Kiloughlan, in attendance.
The countess had worn black but still she had come, her friendship with El stronger than her mourning.
After a brief honeymoon in Penzance—where they had admittedly not stepped foot out of the cottage they had procured and had barely left the bed—they had settled in to married life.
They had neither moved into Caraney House nor had Benedict moved into hers.
Instead, they had found a house together, starting their life together in a house that was theirs.
They were not more than a brisk twenty minute walk from the Earl’s residence, so Benedict still could visit the children as much as he wished.
He did miss being in the same house as them, but living with El more than compensated for such.
This evening, they were on their way to El’s birthday surprise.
It was her first birthday after they had married, and he was certain she would enjoy the surprise he had arranged, though perhaps it was more accurate to say he was halfway confident.
Very well, he had no idea. It was not as outlandish as previous celebrations, nor as lavish. He hoped like hell she liked it.
“I am ready,” she finally announced, giving him a cheeky grin before heading out the front entrance.
Shaking his head, he followed, but then he would always follow El.
She was already seated in the carriage when he alighted, moving so he could sit beside her.
She took his hand as he settled, linking their fingers.
One of the perks of marriage he liked well was they could touch each other and none would comment, garnering nothing more than perhaps a raised brow from those who yet disapproved of even that small affection between a husband and wife.
However, he had no concern for those who would sniff at he and El.
Her hand was in his, his ring was on her finger, and that was all for which he cared.
A deep sense of contentment rolled through him as he squeezed her hand, signalling to the driver to start their journey.
“Will you tell me now where we are to?” El said as the carriage pulled from their house.
“No.” He ran his finger over her wedding band as they rumbled over the cobblestones.
He wore his own band as well, unusual he knew but he wanted the world to know he was El’s.
He always had been, but now there was physical proof in the simple gold band on his left hand.
“How was your afternoon tea?” Lady Kiloughlan had arranged an afternoon tea for El’s birthday and he’d yet to have a chance to ask her of it.
El lit up. “Oh, Benedict, it was ever so delightful. Victoria had arranged for a candle on a lemon drizzle cake, and you know that is my favourite. She then led a chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’ and it was a little embarrassing but not so much that I did not love it. You know I love a bit of a fuss on my birthday.”
“I do know that,” he murmured.
She beamed at him.
“And Lady Kiloughlan confirmed the salon will still be held tomorrow?” El still attended Lady Burfield’s salon, of which he was most appreciative as she would always come home in an amorous mood and he was the most willing of beneficiaries.
“Yes.” She frowned. “I do not know quite what is happening, but you know Lady Burfield cancelled our last one and this one was not confirmed until today. She is acting very strangely.”
“Lady Kiloughlan?”
She shook her head. “Lady Burfield.”
Before he could ask anything further, the carriage slowed. “Ah. We are here.”
El’s brows shot up. “Well, that was hardly worth it. We were barely in the carriage before we arrived.” As she looked out the window, her brow creased. “Benedict, this is Colgrove House.”
“Yes.” He jumped from the carriage and offered her his hand before their footman could.
She placed her fingers in his. “We could have walked.”
“We could have,” he agreed as he helped her descend. “Btu then you would have guessed where we were going.”
She frowned. “Why are we at Colgrove House?”
“Because Lady C has planned you a birthday dinner. To which we are late.” He attempted to hustle her toward the entrance.
Unfortunately, she stopped dead and refused to move. “Lady C has planned a dinner?”
“Yes,” he said impatiently. “And we are late.”
“Benedict.” Her eyes were shiny. “Your family is holding a birthday dinner for me?”
That stopped him as little else would. Taking her hands, he said gently, “They are your family now, El.”
She bit her lip. “This is…”
Wrapping his arms about her, he hugged her. “I know.”
Resting her forehead on his shoulder, she took a shaky breath.
He knew she had always secretly wanted a birthday organised by Lady C.
She had on occasion attended one of his, and he had seen the wonder and bemusement in her eyes at his family’s loud celebrations.
As they had grown older, he had less need for a birthday party, though Lady C still on occasion made a fuss, as she had last year.
El, though, had never had the full Stapleton experience and so this year, he sought to rectify that.
Taking her hand, he used the thumb of his other to wipe at the wet on her cheeks. “Shall we?”
The smile she gave was luminous. “Yes.”
El spun into their bedchamber. “That was delightful, Benedict!”
Sitting on top of the covers of their bed, he looked up from the book he’d been reading while awaiting her. “Was it?” he said in amusement.
“The best. Lady C made me a frog cake!” Now dressed in her nightgown and with her hair in a braid, she hugged herself.
“You are still speaking of that? It was at least three hours ago,” he teased.
Sitting on the edge of their bed, she drew her knee up. “I was always envious of your frog cakes.”
“I am aware.” They had returned from Colgrove House after a very merry evening indeed.
El had been elated, laughing and effusive and happy.
So happy. His family had been as good as they could be, Lady C pulling out all stops and even the Earl cracking a smile or two.
Now they were in their bedchamber, after El was finally ready for bed.
They each had a dressing chamber attached to the master’s bedroom, which they shared.
He had no desire to ever sleep apart from her, and he knew she felt the same.
Matthews had raised his eyebrow, as had El’s maid, but again, he had no care for what others thought, only ever what was right for him and El. And this was right.
With a grin, she flopped back on to the bed. “Best birthday ever.”
His own grin tugged at him. It always made him happy, that he could make her happy. “Would you like the rest of your present?”
Her eyes lit. “More presents?”
He nodded. “This one is a little more…private.”
The gleam in her eye turned slumberous. Turning to her side, she braced her head in her hand. “Oh?” she said throatily.
“Yes. It is this.” He flipped back the covers. Beneath them, he was naked
Lazily, her gaze travelled over him. She touched her tongue to her upper lip. “I do so love that gift.”
Prowling toward her, he caged her with his body. She curled her hands around his forearms, braced either side of her. “I’m so glad you like your presents, El.”
Her fingers caressed his skin. “This one is my favourite.”
With a growl, he covered her mouth with his. She opened for him, her tongue twining with his. Christ, he loved kissing her. Everywhere.
Moving down her body, he kissed her breastbone through her gown, her abdomen, her belly.
He dragged her nightgown up her legs and she grabbed hold of it, ripping it over her head so she was as naked as he.
The sight of her stole his breath, as it always did.
His gaze wandered over her breasts, her belly, her parted thighs.
Cupping her knees, he urged her legs further apart and she did so, her eyes never leaving him. His own gaze dipped. The curls between her thighs were wet, evidence of how much she wanted him.
He made a place for himself there, tracing her opening with his fingers. “You are so pretty here, El,” he said, blowing on her lightly.
“Benedict,” she whimpered.
“Do you want me to kiss you here?”
She nodded violently, her hands burrowing into his hair.
“Well, it is your birthday,” he said, and covered her with his mouth.
He licked and sucked, destroying her with his tongue, and when that wasn’t enough, never enough for him, he eased a finger inside her.
She gave a sharp gasp, her hands her hands pulling his hair.
She was warm and wet, trembling with the force of her desire, and he was addicted to the taste of her, the pull of her fingers on his hair, the way she thrashed under his touch.
She keened, her back bowing, her muscles tense. He doubled his efforts, knowing what that meant. She was close, so close, and he only had to—
“Benedict,” she cried, her thighs shaking.
Wiping his mouth, he rose over her. Christ, she was delicious when she came.
Lifting her thigh, he curled her leg around his hip and pushed inside her before her tremors had subsided.
She gasped, her eyes flaring wide as his cock filled her to the hilt.
He rode her through her orgasm and then dedicated himself to giving her another.
Flipping her to her stomach, he tugged her hips up and slammed inside her again. She wailed hoarsely, pushing back against him as he found that spot inside her, hitting it with every thrust. Only when she had come screaming did he let himself seek his own release.
His chest billowed as he panted, the strength of his orgasm dizzying.
Every time. Every time she did this to him.
He glanced down at her. She was sprawled beneath him, her hair coming loose from her braid, the long line of her back coated in perspiration.
Gently, he pulled from her and she collapsed on to their bed, her sound of contentment somehow making his cock twitch.
Climbing from the bed, he left his pleasure-drunk wife as he made his way to his dressing chamber and the water and washcloth there. Bringing them both back, he tended to her and then himself, leaving it in the bowl of water by the bed. No doubt they would have use of it again soon.
“I have a present for you, too,” she said as he settled beside her.
He kissed the top of her head. “My birthday is not for another month.”
“I know, however this present will not wait.” Taking his hand, she placed it on her belly.
He froze. “El?”
“Benedict.”
“El.”
She smiled. “All things being well, you will be a father in about five months.”
Speechless, he stared at her belly. Their child. She was pregnant with their child. His eyes burned. Gathering her in his arms, he buried his face in her neck. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Pulling back, he stared into her eyes. She had to know. She had to. “So much, El.”
“I know.” She cupped his cheek. “Best birthday ever?”
He kissed her palm. “Best birthday ever.”
Thank you for reading LADY ELEANOR'S LOVER!