Epilogue
Ross,
There has been a change in plans. I am taking Baroness Griffith to my family estate for her to recuperate. Baron Griffith has sadly expired from injuries he sustained during an attack by highwaymen when they were returning with their joyous news. Please let the Duchess know her sister is safe and will be well cared for by my family through Spring. She could not face her sisters while her emotions were so raw. I will see you upon my return.
Best,
Astley
—A letter to Nashford Xavier Harding, Duke of Ross, from Simon Benjamin Clark, Earl of Astley, Gretna Green, Scotland
T he back of Iseabail’s legs hit the bed before she registered they were in his chamber. The sound of the door slamming should have alerted her to their surroundings, but she was so happy to be in his arms once more, she was lost in the ecstasy. The rough calloused touch of his hands on the edge of her gown was everything she loved about this man. His lips tracked down her jaw, the lobe of her ear, and her neck where his tongue teased and tormented the throbbing beat of her heart. It was as if he had a direct line to her center. She was hot and wet, wanting him to hurry, and loving every minute he did not.
“You’re more beautiful than ever,” Nash whispered. The rough edge to his voice making her eager for more of his touch, his tongue, everything he had to offer.
“My body has changed,” she gasped, as his finger trailed along the edge of the bodice of her gown and slipped beneath it.
“Every bit of it entices me,” he said, as he nipped her flesh and exposed one of her breasts. He groaned at the sight and she felt his desire harden against her core.
His mouth was instantly on her breast as he plumped and kneaded her. She was used to looking down and seeing her son suckle her breast, but this was nothing like a nursing babe. It wasn’t tender and endearing. This was rousing and erotic. She had never thought she would see this wonderfully bawdy and sensual view ever again. Yet she had to stop him before he realized she was breastfeeding?—
Too late. She leaked, and he lapped it up as if he had done so his entire adult life. “Mmmmm.” He looked up and grinned, that devilish smile no woman could resist. “I will not steal from my son. He has earned a small piece of you.”
“I believe he’s taken more than a small piece.”
“I endeavor to teach him how to be more respectful of his mother in the future.”
“You don’t mind that I breastfeed?”
“I can’t imagine you doing anything else. It’s one of the things I adore about you.”
“One?” She teased and reached down to rub the length of him.
“Minx, you have no idea how long I’ve waited?—”
She laughed. “I believe I have been waiting just as long, Your Grace.”
Nash stood up and flipped her over unceremoniously. “Sorry, love but I must free you from this contraption as soon as possible so that I may worship every inch of your delectable body.”
Iseabail sighed. He could toss her on the floor if he continued to talk in such a manner. The fabric at her buttons tore and Nash swore. “Bloody bollocks.” He tore the dress from her body and tossed it across the room. Next was her shift, undergarments, and stockings. He groaned and his mouth was on her backside devouring her flesh the same way he had her breast.
“You have the most beautiful arse I’ve ever seen,” he whispered, as he plumped her flesh and made her squirm with delight. Yet she wanted more. A lifetime more.
She looked over her shoulder at him on his knees worshiping her. “I need you naked, Nash.”
He spread her legs and licked her sex, and she nearly came with the contact of his warm firm mouth on her flesh.
“Now,” she ordered, with more force than either one of them realized she possessed.
His smirk was pure masculine pride as he rocked back on his heels and stood in one fluid motion. Iseabail rolled over and watched him take off his navy riding coat with velvet collar and gold buttons. He folded it, then meticulously laid it over the trunk at the end of his bed. All of this while watching her.
“Touch yourself.” Unlike her demand for him to undress, his was simply a request she could never deny. She ran her hand up her hip, slowly across her belly where a few lines of pregnancy told the story of how heavy with child she had once been. His eyes snagged on the scarring. “I bet you were gorgeous when you were round with our son.”
Iseabail laughed. “I was as big as this townhouse.”
“I won’t miss our next child,” he promised.
“No, you won’t,” she agreed.
“Even the birth.”
“Even the birth. Although, I understand most men aren’t able to handle it.”
“I am not most men.”
“No, you’re not.” She agreed and he took off his buckskin-colored waistcoat, its beautiful embroidery glinting golden in the sunlight. He slowly removed his cravat next, as she languidly moved her finger across her abdomen to her breast, each one of them savoring the moment their bodies would be reunited.
She circled her nipple the way his tongue had. Enjoying her touch that much more as he watched. He reached behind his neck and pulled his crisp white shirt over his head with one tug. God, he was gorgeous. How had she lived so long without the expanse of his chest and his strong arms wrapping around her? How had she ever thought to go on without watching the corded muscles of his abdomen ripple above her as he drove inside her?
He wet his lips as he sat down in the chair to remove his boots, his line of vision directed toward her sex. It was as if he had never seen another woman, yet she knew he was vastly experienced. Her cheeks flamed as she brought her fingers where his gaze was glued, the movement catching his attention, and he looked from the delicate exploration of her fingers to the gasping expression on her face as she found that little nub of pleasure.
“I have dreamed of you like this.” He held her gaze as her chest heaved and he stood to take off his trousers in one smooth motion. He still didn’t wear smalls, and she loved the way his cock stood up proud. The words of desire on his lips and the sight of his arousal pointing directly at where they both wanted it to be, sent her over the edge. Her eyes closed with the ecstasy of the moment, only to shoot wide open when she felt his mouth upon her once more. Lapping and licking, driving her mad with lust.
He knelt next to the bed and shoved her heels to the mattress, exposing her further. Her fingers curled in his hair, and she screamed with wonder at the way he worshiped her body. Only this man could drive a woman over the edge when she’d already fallen. He touched her everywhere. Squeezed her in the best of places, caressed her in the most sensitive. Her back arched as his wicked tongue did things she’d longed to feel once more and thought she’d never experience again. Yet every time was new. Every touch sent tingles spreading through her body like a new path to pleasure she longed to explore.
Iseabail screamed his name, over and over. This man she loved with all her heart.
“Keep calling my name like that and all the ladies of the Ton will be lining up at our front door.”
She growled at him as he crawled up the length of her body. “You are mine, Nashford Xavier Harding, and no one else is allowed to touch you. Do you understand?”
His devilish grin spread across his face. “I serve one duchess. My duchess. No other lady shall ever scream my name again.”
She smacked his chest at his incorrigible arrogance. “I don’t want to know how many women have screamed your name in this room.”
His face grew serious. “No other woman has entered my home.”
She cocked a brow. She could think of a half-dozen other women living under this roof at this very moment.
“Your family and mine don’t count. No other woman has entered my bedchamber or lain on my bed. Your voice is the only voice I care to hear echoing off the walls of this room. The library, my office, the parlor?—”
She laughed. “My sisters need to be married before that happens.”
“You’d be surprised at how much my mother loves to take them shopping. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t round them up for a late shopping trip this afternoon after I carried you upstairs.”
Her cheeks flamed. “I certainly hope so.”
“I love you Iseabail Blair Hancock Harding. No other woman has captured my heart and soul the way you have.” He nudged her entrance with his manhood. “No other woman has captivated my cock, either.”
She lifted her hips and he drove into her as she grasped his hard, strong arms, the hair on his chest creating sensual friction across her breasts. He groaned deep within his throat, an enticing, purely masculine sound as he lifted one of her legs over his shoulder. His hips rocked into her, rubbing her sex as the length of his cock stroked that spot inside her she never knew existed before him. The muscles of his abdomen rippled, his hips thrust, and they both watched as their bodies joined and separated. Separated and joined as if showing them no matter how far apart they found themselves, they would always come together.
“I love you, Nash,” she gasped, on the brink of rapture once more. His lips captured hers in a kiss full of promise for the future, for their children’s future, and so much more as they reached for the stars of ecstasy together. It was a kiss that ruined a duchess for any other man and made a duke into the husband he was meant to be, as they collapsed in each other’s arms, the sound of pure contentment resonating in their labored breaths.
And then a baby wailed from somewhere in the house … and they laughed as one.
“Now that boy has impeccable timing,” the Duke grinned down at his breathless bride-to-be.
“If you don’t get him now, he will demand satisfaction,” she teased.
“He waited for us to come together.” His grin was full of devilish innuendo. “I see no reason to make him wait any longer.” He rolled off the bed, taking the bedsheet with him.
“Where are you going?” she asked, because surely he didn’t intend to go out into the hall like that.
“To get our son,” he said simply, as if it was something he said every day of the week, and yet she saw his chest grow with pride, and knew he couldn’t wait to hold Xavier once more. “You better cover yourself, Duchess.”
She gasped and jumped from the bed, nearly tripping over his boots as she reached for his jacket. She slipped it over her shoulders just in time for him to open the door and march down the hall in his nearly nude state.
“You can’t do that while my sisters are in residence!” she yelled after him. A giggle she had not felt in such a long time bubbled in her chest and escaped her lips.
A moment later Nash returned, holding their son as if he had done so since the day he was born. He was a natural at being a father, and she couldn’t have asked for a better partner to raise a duke. He cooed at their son, momentarily distracting him from what he wanted most—to eat.
“I suggest we purchase a new home where we can roam the halls as we please.” He looked up at her for a moment and grinned his obvious pleasure at her wearing his jacket.
It was only then that she saw the piece of paper in his hand. “What is that?” She asked.
“A letter from Simon.”
“Simon? Is it about Caillen? Is she all right?”
“She is fine. She is a baroness now.”
“No.”
“Yes,” he said, and then stopped her from asking more with the staying of his hand. “She is also a widow. It seems they met some highwaymen on their way back to London. Simon found them and is taking her to his family estate.”
“But she should be here, with her family.” She insisted.
“She didn’t want to be here. She’s hurting. Let her heal.” If anyone knew what it was like to need to heal, Iseabail did. She nodded and his gaze returned to the child in his arms who began to wiggle. “Don’t you think we should be able to display the family jewels in all their glory anywhere in the house, Xavier?”
Iseabail couldn’t help but laugh at his attempt to lighten the mood. “I’ll make a pact with you, Your Grace.”
“Go on.”
“If you will cover the jewels while outside this room,” she said, as he closed the door and dropped the bed linens at the same time, “then I will keep these two babies exclusively for the two of you.” She reached up and plumped her breasts, the tips looking rather delectable peeking out of his jacket, if she did say so herself.
Nash growled as he approached her, exposed one of her breasts and snuggled their son up against her. “You drive a hard bargain, Duchess.”
“I play to win.”
“And yet I believe it is I who have come out on top.”
She laughed as the three of them snuggled on the bed together. Their child in her arms, and Iseabail in his. Life in the Ton may not be everything she thought it would be, but she couldn’t imagine sharing it with any more dukes than the two she loved most, and the one who blessed them with their future.
She smiled and looked up to the heavens. “Thank you, Nithesdale. I have never been happier.”
Nash kissed her temple and agreed. “No father could have loved me more.”