Chapter Twenty
It was mid-afternoon when they returned from the Allenby chapel and Briggs’s funeral.
The servants were gathered downstairs to pay their respects to Briggs, and then they would get back to their work.
Laura had taken Augusta to the kitchen yesterday afternoon for further introductions, and Augusta had given Mrs. Dorsett, the head cook, the dinner menu.
Last night’s hot bath was heavenly, and a good night’s sleep in Duncan’s warm embrace followed.
She was definitely over her courses and was looking forward to later tonight.
The afternoon had been taken up with Laura giving her a guided tour of the manor and selecting furniture from storage for Reese’s room, the nursery, and schoolroom, as well as for Prisilla, who would be across the hall from Reese.
In some aristocratic families, children were housed in a different wing, but Augusta wanted her son nearby.
Augusta did not see Duncan for the rest of the afternoon, as he was in meetings with Mr. McGloin. When he arrived at their bedroom, he looked tired, but content.
“I told Patrick you would assist me in dressing for dinner. We have to hire another valet as soon as possible.”
“Is there anyone on staff we could promote? One of the footmen, perhaps?” Augusta asked as she helped him remove his coat.
“Possibly. Patrick mentioned Frederick. He has worked here for nearly ten years.”
Augusta unbuttoned his waistcoat. “I was thinking of turning the adjoining room into a sitting room for us. It is obvious we will not be sleeping apart.”
“I like the way you think. I agree. We can purchase a full-sized chaise longue for extra sleeping space, naps, and the like. Perhaps we can move books in there.”
“Brilliant.”
Duncan grimaced as she tried to pull his shirt over his head. “You are still in discomfort. Do you have a physician?”
“Yes.”
“We should have him come tomorrow.” She gently ran the tips of her fingers along his torso. “You are badly bruised, and your shoulder is still swollen.”
“As you say, Your Grace.”
Augusta chuckled as she helped him dress.
“Hopefully, it will be easier to undress me later tonight,” Duncan added huskily.
“I am sure it will. I can always rip your shirt.”
Duncan moaned. “No more. Or I will not be able to appear for dinner in this state.”
Augusta smiled. “We can stay in this room, send for trays later.”
“Minx.”
“Alas, Mr. McGloin and Laura expect us. Another time.”
“I will hold you to that,” Duncan replied huskily.
Once dressed, Duncan headed for the door.
“Wait! I believe a valet uses this brush.” Augusta swept his coat across his shoulders and down the front. “There. You look every inch a duke.”
“Then, Duchess, let us go to dinner.”
Augusta took his free arm, and they descended the stairs.
Mr. McGloin stood when they entered the room.
“You look lovely, Augusta,” Laura said. “My gown is a near-perfect fit. The silver shade accentuates your lovely raven hair.”
The footmen pulled out their chairs, and they sat.
“Thank you. I will need more clothes. I lost gowns in the accident, and I am afraid the few others I own are hopelessly outdated,” Augusta replied.
“Something to add to our growing list,” Laura said. The footmen carried in trays of food. “I thought we would skip right to the main course tonight.”
Duncan rubbed his hands together. “Roast beef?”
“Absolutely. With your favorite trimmings,” Augusta replied.
The conversation was warm and lively, and after the mince pie, Duncan stood and held out his hand to Augusta. “Forgive us if we forgo the brandy and after-dinner conversation. We are both still exhausted from our adventure.”
“Of course.” Laura gave them a knowing smile. “I will see you in the morning.”
“I will be down at seven, Patrick, to see you off.”
“Good night, Your Graces,” Patrick replied, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
As they ascended the stairs, Augusta whispered. “I think they know what we are about to do.”
“I have no doubt. I told Turner that we are not to be disturbed for the rest of the night. Laura was right about the silver gown. It makes your luminous skin shimmer in the candlelight.”
“Oh, thank you. I do like it immensely when you compliment me.”
“Then I shall do it often.”
As soon as they entered the bedroom, Duncan kicked the door shut with his foot and pulled her close, kissing her deeply. Then he grimaced in pain.
“You are still recovering,” Augusta said worriedly.
“Not enough to forgo another night.” He nuzzled her neck. “I need to be inside you.”
Her insides fluttered as her body responded to his heated words.
“Then we shall not delay another minute. But we will do it my way.”
Duncan pulled back and gave her a bemused look. “Your way?”
“Yes. Allow me to take the reins, as it were.” Augusta gently removed his sling and tossed it on the chair. “We shall take great care in not moving your arm much. Let us slowly remove your coat. There. One sleeve at a time.”
“This is torturous,” Duncan moaned.
“But think of the anticipation,” Augusta crooned as she tossed the coat onto the nearby chair.
“I never knew I possessed such a vast amount of restraint,” Duncan said. “I’ve wanted you from nearly the moment we met.”
With his coat and waistcoat already removed, Augusta unbuttoned his shirt and slowly pulled it off his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. With a feather-light touch, she trailed the tips of her fingers over the brown-and-yellow bruises. Duncan moaned in response.
“Does it hurt?”
“No. Your touch is igniting my skin in the best way possible.”
Augusta plunged her fingers through his chest hair, playfully caressing him as her hands moved lower to the waistband of his trousers.
Duncan slipped an arm about her waist and pulled her close against that very hard part of him. “See what you do to me?”
His warm breath against her neck made the simmering flame within her roar to life. He kissed her.
There was no slow undressing now; Augusta swiftly unbuttoned the fall of his trousers and pulled them and his drawers down his muscular legs.
Duncan stepped out of them and kicked them aside.
She turned, and Duncan unbuttoned her gown as he laid warm kisses along her shoulders.
The gown pooled at her feet. She removed her undergarments and quickly tossed them aside.
“My God, you are absolutely stunning,” Duncan marveled, taking his time to gaze at her from her toes up and back again.
Augusta moved closer, reached up, and touched his face. “And you are stunning. In all ways.”
They kissed again, inching closer to the bed.
“Lie down,” Augusta commanded.
“As you wish, Your Grace.” Duncan tapped his chin. “‘Taking the reins?’ Are you intending to ride me.”
“For all its worth.” Augusta climbed on the bed, straddled him, then rose high enough to grasp his shaft.
Duncan moaned.
Heavens, had she said that aloud?
She plunged downward, taking all of him, reveling in the feel of him inside him. “I want to stay just like this, for the rest of our lives.”
Duncan could not agree more. He placed his hands on her hips, then caressed her soft, silky skin.
It had been a long time since he had been intimate with a woman, and he had the distinct feeling this would eclipse all his previous encounters.
Deeper emotions were involved, a growing love that would only be solidified by consummating the marriage.
Duncan waited for Augusta to move, but she stayed still, eyes closed, as if she were creating a memory.
Stay like this forever? Joined in the most amorous way possible?
“I absolutely agree,” he murmured huskily.
Augusta’s eyes snapped open, and she met his gaze. Her eyes were ablaze with passion. She was glorious. A slight movement of her hips had him moaning. She smiled satisfactorily. Then Augusta pulled upward and plunged down, causing another breathless moan to escape his lips.
Her pace quickened, then slowed, then she found her rhythm, and Duncan thrust upward to meet her frenzied motions. She threw her head back and laughed, the pure joy of it caused Duncan’s heart to soar. Her hair fell about her shoulders, and it took no time at all for her to reach her peak.
“Keep going,” Duncan growled. “Come for me again.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist and sat up so they faced each other.
He caressed her breasts, and they moved as one.
Their breathing was ragged, and they rose together with the tide, crying out in near-simultaneous release.
Duncan and Augusta held each other close for several moments. Then Duncan kissed her deeply.
“Ready to go again?”
Augusta laughed. “Oh, yes. Again.”
“And tomorrow morning, after I see Patrick off. We will have trays of food brought to us later.”
“And perhaps in the afternoon?”
Duncan chuckled. “Insatiable.”
“With you? Yes. Forever.”
Duncan was filled not only with love but also with hope. The future looked bright, indeed.
And five days later…
“Your Graces!” one of the maids said as she entered the sitting room. “The carriages are here!”
Augusta was already out of her seat and hurrying toward the door when the maid said, “Your wrap, Your Grace!”
“Of course.” The maid then assisted Laura with hers. “Please send for His Grace. I believe he is in his study.”
“Frederick has already gone to fetch him, Your Grace.”
Augusta took Laura’s arm as they headed into the great hall and out the front door. Augusta’s insides were in knots. She had hardly slept the past two nights, waiting with anticipation to see her son and friend again. So much had happened.
As soon as Reese was assisted from the carriage, he pulled away from Pricilla and ran straight into Augusta’s outstretched arms.
“Mama! Mama!”
Augusta stood from her crouched position, still holding Reese tight. “I missed you so much,” she murmured tearfully.
He glanced around. “Who are all these people, Mama?” Reese gasped. “Is that our new house?” He pointed toward the ornate oak front doors.
“It is. Many of these people are servants who work here.” Duncan came toward them. “And here is my husband, the Duke of Allenby. You call him ‘Your Grace.’”
“Or you can call me Allenby,” Duncan interjected. “When we get to know each other better, you can call me Duncan or Papa. I’m pleased to meet you, Reese. Welcome to Bamford Park.” Duncan held out his hand.
Augusta waited with bated breath. You never knew how a small child would react to a stranger, let alone to one who was tall, imposing, and wearing a mask. A few seconds passed, then a few more. Please do not turn away or cry, my son. Please.
Reese slipped his hand into Duncan’s much larger one. “Hello, Allenby.”
Augusta visibly exhaled.
“Does it hurt?” Reese asked, pointing at the mask. “Patrick said you were in a fire.”
“Not so much now. I have someone I want you to meet.” Duncan snapped his fingers, and Frederick brought Lady forward.
“Oh, Mama, a puppy!” He squirmed in Augusta’s arms until she let him down.
Lady jumped excitedly as Reese ran toward her.
“Wait, Reese!” Prisilla called out. “I am sorry.” She turned to Augusta. “He’s been very excited for the past few miles. He got away from me.”
“It is fine, Priscilla. We can continue the introductions inside. Turner will show you the way.” Priscilla followed the butler, as did Laura. But not before Augusta noticed her friend and Patrick exchange a quick, heated glance. How interesting.
Augusta took Duncan’s arm, and they headed toward the front door. She watched as Reese hugged Lady, then playfully ran in circles as Lady followed. “I believe my son is more excited over meeting Lady than seeing me,” she mused good-naturedly.
“Not so, my love,” Duncan replied. “He’s just a happy child. Lady will assist him in settling into his new situation. I have no doubt.”
Augusta leaned in and whispered, “Pricilla and Patrick exchanged knowing looks. I wonder if something is brewing there?”
“Playing matchmaker already?” Duncan chuckled.
“Why not, indeed? I want everyone to be as happy as we are.”
Duncan kissed her forehead. “We are a family, and this will be a happy home. I love you.”
“And I love you,” Augusta murmured for only Duncan to hear.
She thought back to the way this had all started. Who could have ever guessed that a visit to a gambling hell would bring so much happiness—to both of them?