Epilogue
“We really should stop,” murmured Betsy.
Rupert kissed her again, his fiery kisses trailing down her neck and she could hardly keep her eyes open.
Why should she? When she could enjoy such bliss, such wonderful—
“Rupert, we should stop,” she repeated, though her heart was not in it.
The library was silent other than the flicker of a flame in the fire, a log shifting as it burned, and the heavy panting of the two lovers. Betsy clung to him, glorifying in the way his body pressed against hers.
Being with him was everything, everything she wanted. It was hard to believe it had only been a few months since their wedding.
The palace in Austria was starting, just, to feel like home. At least, she did not get lost every time she wanted to go from one of the breakfast rooms to one of the three morning rooms…
“Oh, Betsy,” Rupert moaned.
Betsy claimed his mouth, demanding kisses from him that he was quite happy to give her, lifting her leg around his hip as his hand—
“Ahem.”
Face burning and surely as scarlet as the red luxurious carpet beneath their feet, Betsy broke off the kiss with her husband, Crown Prince Rupert, and looked, ashamed, at the butler who had carefully coughed just before he entered the library.
Rupert, of course, took the whole thing in his stride. As he always did.
“Thank you,” he said breezily, stepping away from the library ladder where Betsy had been perched during their frantic kissing. He took the proffered letter from the silver tray the servant was holding. “That will be all.”
The butler bowed, Betsy tried to remember not to incline her head in turn—not necessary for the servants, her new mother-in-law had told her—and tried not to think about what the man had probably heard as he had approached the library door.
That had been the one rule she had made when she had come to live in the royal palaces—any of them.
Library doors were not to be locked.
“It’s for you.”
Betsy blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
Rupert waved the letter. It had a number of stamps upon it, stamps she recognised. English stamps. “It’s for you.”
Slowly lowering her leg and hoping to goodness that the servants would not be talking about the situation the butler had almost found them in—not that she imagined it would be much of a scandal, they were newlyweds—Betsy walked across the spacious, elegant room and dropped onto a sofa.
“So it is,” she said, taking the letter from her husband. “It looks like George’s handwriting to me.”
Rupert sat beside her as Betsy ran her finger under the seal, breaking it. then he kissed her neck, his hands moving towards her—
“Five minutes,” she teased, batting away his fingers. “Will you not give me five minutes to myself?”
“Never, if it means I am sacrificing kissing you,” said Rupert happily.
Marriage suited him. It suited both of them, Betsy thought with a smile. Why, her corsets did not fit her anymore, Rupert had pointed that out with glee just yesterday. Wedded bliss, he had teased, was injurious to the waistline.
Betsy pushed the thought away and unfolded the letter. “Goodness, it’s dated a month ago, the post truly does take an age to get here.”
Rupert snorted as he settled into his seat beside her. “It is a few hundred miles, Betsy, give them a little credit.”
But she was not paying attention. George’s words were captivating. Scandalous, even. Why, it perfectly explained where he had disappeared off to, that night at the card party at Lady Jarrold’s, but even with Betsy’s wildest imaginings, she could never have guessed that—
“He is well?”
Betsy dropped her hands to her lap as she looked at her husband. “Who?”
“George,” said Rupert, nodding at the letter with a grin. “You are so absent minded sometimes, you know.”
“George? Yes, George,” said Betsy, smiling quietly to herself. “George. I like the name George, you know.”
It was ever so slight; just a gentle bristling in her husband that told her he had still not forgotten the misunderstanding he had managed to get himself into that night when they had found themselves locked in the library, near a scandal for the future sovereign of an entire country.
“I thought you liked the name Rupert,” he said gruffly.
Betsy grinned. Well, this was as good a time as any to tell him, wasn’t it? there was unlikely to be a better; they were so infrequently alone, that was one of the things she did not like about living here.
And yet not alone. Rupert had been right, all those months ago when he had tried to explain it to her. Never alone and yet remarkably lonely.
Well, he would not have to worry about being lonely for long. Not with the two of them…
“Yes, I do like the name Rupert,” Betsy said airily, folding up the letter and putting it aside to focus entirely on her husband. “But we can’t call him Rupert, it’ll be confusing. Same with Ruperta—oh, Georgina is a nice name.”
Rupert’s face was an absolute picture of muddle. It was difficult not to laugh, really. how was it possible that he did not understand? It had been clear enough to her, two weeks ago, when the doctor had told her…
But she had known before then, hadn’t she? Known something was different within her, knew that there could only be one answer to that question.
Dawning understanding blossomed across Rupert’s face. “You don’t mean that—you cannot be—are you sure that—”
“The doctor came by last week to confirm,” said Betsy, beaming, “and he thinks a summer birth—”
“You told me that you were purchasing a new gown!” It was not an accusation exactly, there was a bemused smile on her husband’s face, but he spoke boldly, nonetheless.
“I knew you were taking too long, I had half a mind to go in there and stop you having whatever affair I was certain you were starting!”
Betsy laughed. Well, who could blame her? “No more scandals for this sovereign, I promise you…not now you’re about to become a father.”
She could say no more, so it was fortunate she had no intention to. Rupert swept her into his arms, kissing her fiercely on the lips as his passion and his excitement for her news overwhelmed them both.
“I suppose not,” he said with a wicked grin. “But if you just let me go and lock that door, I’ll give you every excuse for a scandal…”
I hope you’ve enjoyed this novella in the Ravishing Regencies series.