Chapter 14 #2
And finally the dancing where she and Valentin twirled together around the ballroom until all of a sudden, the hour grown late, he clasped her around the waist and swept her along with him toward the door.
Her last glimpse over her shoulder had been of Linette and Adam, who glanced at each other smiling.
Estelle gasped with delight when Valentin lifted her into his arms to carry her the rest of their way to his private apartment.
No, their private apartment now, she amended happily as the guards threw open the doors for them and then shut them firmly behind them.
Valentin didn’t stop until he had reached the bedchamber, and only then did he set her down in the middle of the room that clearly had been prepared for them: A fire burning brightly in the fireplace, the covers turned down, and two fluted glasses filled with champagne on a table beside the bed.
Valentin left her for only a moment to close the door and then strode back to sweep her into his arms.
“Alone at last,” he murmured against her ear, Estelle thrilling at the sensation of him holding her so tightly.
Her arms had no sooner flown around his neck when his mouth found hers to kiss her until she was breathless and trembling, the joy that had enveloped her all day making her feel as if she might burst from the wonder of it.
Only a few nights past she had believed they would be parted forever, and now they were united for a lifetime together as husband and wife!
“You’re a princess now…my princess,” he breathed against her lips, his hand slipping down her back to caress her through the silvery satin of her gown. She shivered and pressed against him even closer, which made him groan from deep in his throat.
“Shall we do something with this?” he said huskily, releasing her to remove her tiara and deposit it on the table. Then he returned to her swiftly to begin undressing her, and Estelle, him.
A lusty giddiness seized them, a flurry of clothing filling the air as they laughed and kissed and spun around each other until Estelle found herself tossed naked onto the bed.
Flushed from head to toe, her breasts rising and falling with unbridled eagerness for him to join her, Estelle watched as he first lifted a glass of champagne to take a healthy draught and then offered her a sip.
She trembled so from wanting him that when she rose on one elbow and covered his hand with hers to guide the glass to her mouth, she splashed cool droplets down the front of her body, her nipples puckering.
Which Valentin didn’t seem to mind at all, the hungry look in his eyes making Estelle’s heart skip a beat.
He deposited the glass on the table and joined her so swiftly that she could but gasp and fall back upon the bed, Valentin straddling her and lowering his head to taste the champagne slicking her breasts.
“Oh, Valentin…” Estelle thrust her fingers into his hair as he began to suckle at her nipples, an intense longing filling her. If they had been laughing and lighthearted moments before, now she wanted nothing more than for him to claim her as his truly wedded wife.
She sensed Valentin shared her mounting urgency for his hands had begun to tremble as he caressed her, and dipped his tongue into her navel to make her buck beneath him.
Yet he didn’t stop there, but shifted lower, burying his face between her thighs and cupping her bottom to lift her to his mouth, Estelle crying out in surprise.
She threw back her head, her hands gripping his shoulders as his tongue pressed deep inside her to taste her, tease her, until she cried out again, but this time in sheer ecstasy.
Only then did he rise above her and blanket her with his body to thrust himself into her, the driving movement of his hips making her moan in sweet delirium.
Distantly she heard him groan, too, Valentin’s flesh throbbing at the very heart of her while Estelle clung to him with all her might, her arms and legs wrapped around him.
He found her mouth, his lips tasting of wine and her sex…their kiss so impassioned, so intimate that she felt wholly possessed by him.
Body and soul.
“I love you, Estelle…my wife, my heart,” came his fierce whisper moments later as he shifted onto his side and drew her with him, his arms wrapped tightly around her.
She snuggled even closer and pressed a fervent kiss to his chest, his heartbeat thrumming against her lips. “I love you, Valentin, my sweet prince. Forever and always.”
Late August, 1822
Porthleven, Cornwall
“Mama, will I marry a prince someday?”
Corie glanced in surprise at Paloma, who stared as if enchanted with Valentin and Estelle as they greeted well-wishers at the garden reception she and Donovan were hosting for them at their manor house.
She drew her beautiful daughter closer to whisper in her ear, “I pray you’ll marry the man of your dreams, whoever he might be. ”
“Just like you did with Papa?”
Paloma’s dark brown eyes filled with sweet innocence, Corie felt a tug at her heart as she nodded. “Just like Lindsay and your Aunt Marguerite and Aunt Linette—”
“And now Aunt Estelle. She looks so happy, Mama. Prince Valentin, too.”
“Yes, they’re very happy…but you know you can call him uncle now.”
“Yes, but I like prince so much better. May I have a piece of lemon cake?”
Corie smiled her assent, inwardly relieved that Paloma’s unexpected musings about whom she might marry had jumped to her favorite dessert.
She gave Corie a hug, and then ran across the lawn in a flurry of yellow silk to the tables laden with good things to eat, while a masculine chuckle behind Corie made her spin around.
As always, her heart skipped a beat at how handsome her strapping husband looked, Donovan’s midnight eyes full of teasing.
“Only eleven years old and already dreaming of her prince. What are we to do, my darling wife?”
Corie sighed softly, shaking her head as she took his outstretched hand, Donovan drawing her close to stand beside him.
Together they surveyed the happy scene of all of their family and many neighbors from the village gathered together after witnessing the blessing of Valentin and Estelle’s marriage at the parish church.
Her dearest friend, Lindsay, and her husband, Jared, visiting in a congenial cluster with Estelle and Valentin, who stood arm in arm, and Linette and Adam.
Marguerite sitting beneath a shady tree and holding baby Flora while she and Walker watched their son, Dwight, running and playing with the twins, Draydon and Dahlia, and Lindsay’s children Justin and Cecelia, the air filled with squeals of laughter.
A trio of nannies tending to three-year-old Adele and Penelope, who was ensconced in a pram along with Lindsay’s little Mary, so Corie and Donovan could focus upon their guests.
Each child such a precious blessing…and now the news that both Linette and Estelle were expecting babies only capping what had been a glorious reunion for them.
And presiding over it all in a comfortable chair, Papa Joseph, as the children loved to call their grandfather, his quiet delight at their antics warming Corie’s heart.
“It’s just as I imagined it would be.”
Corie glanced up at Donovan, who had a knowing look on his face that made her elbow him playfully. “Ah, so now you’re not only a matchmaker, but a clairvoyant, too?”
“Perhaps. But I think you knew as well as I that Estelle and Valentin were destined for each other. It just took some time—”
“And prayer. Lots of prayer.”
“Most definitely,” Donovan murmured, drawing Corie closer. “And a pledge made years ago that inspired every one of your sisters not to marry anyone less…”
“Than the man of her dreams,” Corie finished for him, her heart overflowing with love as she lifted her face to his tender kiss.
Thank you for reading My Fugitive Prince.