Epilogue
ONE MONTH LATER
“Laurence, please, please, please,” Ellen begged through gritted teeth as she thrashed among the sheets.
Laurence’s grinned wickedly against her mons as he continued his sweet torture.
“Not yet,” he snarled, reveling in the feral nature of the moment. “Just a little longer, my Duchess.”
His wicked punishment was brought on by her own doing. She’d entered his study an hour earlier, looking breathtakingly stunning in the gold evening gown she’d had made for their first dinner party later that night, and had sat.
On his lap.
The mere brush of her body against his, the scent of her perfume mixed with her natural aroma, the softness in her voice as she whispered, ‘hello, my love,’ had him ready to take her right then and there.
Yet when he moved to lift her skirts, she’d batted his hands away with an impish smile, and told him he had to wait until later.
Now it was his turn.
He continued his devious ministrations, working his fingers and tongue in a way she knew she liked until her entire body trembled and only her shoulder blades touched the bed. Then he stopped.
Laurence moved off the bed, grinning wickedly as he wiped the evidence of her incoming orgasm from his chin.
Ellen’s eyes snapped open, her face still beautifully flushed from his teasing, and she looked at him with her mouth agape.
“What are you doing?” she panted, her body trembling as she leaned up on her elbows.
“Later,” he taunted, using her own words against her.
Ellen’s breath froze in her chest for a brief second, then she hurriedly shook her head.
“No,” she pleaded. “No, you cannot leave me like this! Our guests will be arriving soon! I shall be distracted all night!”
Laurence smirked, loving the way she pleaded with him. He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her lips before he stood tall and straightened his cravat.
“That will make two of us then,” he quipped.
Ellen’s wide eyes narrowed accusingly as she abruptly sat up on the bed and pulled her skirts down.
“You scoundrel,” she snarled, throwing a pillow at him.
“You teased me first,” he taunted, moving toward the door.
As he opened it, he found Sarah coming down the hall and beckoned her into the room. His wife’s handmaid was starting to grow round in the belly with child, and soon, Laurence hoped that he and Ellen would be expecting one of their own.
“Would you please touch up Her Grace’s hair?” he asked her politely as he waved Sarah inside. He turned back to Ellen, who was still scowling, and winked at her. “It got a little messed up.”
“You will pay for this,” Ellen warned, a challenge glimmering in her eyes.
His manhood pulsed at her words with growing anticipation.
“I look forward to it,” he promised, then left the room as Ellen let out a rather loud, unladylike snarl of frustration.
He grinned mischievously at the sound as he headed for his office. He loved the dynamic he and Ellen had created with one another. Sometimes their lovemaking was achingly sweet and slow. Other times, like today, there was taunting and teasing and pleasure-laced pain.
Laurence’s grin faded, however, as he walked into his study and came to an abrupt halt when he found Solomon already there, looking smart in his cut, black suit. His grave expression, however, gave no hint of the festivities that were about to unfold.
“You are early, old friend,” Laurence said, taking a careful step toward Solomon.
Solomon raised a single brow.
“Does that bother you?” he asked, his tone edged with something sharp.
Laurence shook his head.
“You know it does not,” he replied. “I am just surprised. I have not seen much of you of late.”
Solomon lowered his gaze to the floor as he rubbed his thumb up and down the glass of whisky he was holding in both hands.
“When Madalene shared that you and Ellen had reconciled, I assumed you would want some privacy.”
Laurence only nodded as he took in his friend’s stance. He seemed on edge, like a wolf that had found himself trapped in a cage.
“What have you been up to?” he asked, careful to make his tone sound casual.
Solomon lifted his glass and took a long pull of his whisky.
“I have become more acquainted with Godric,” he said after he swallowed. “Now that you are…indisposed, I needed a new partner to help me further investigate the auction.”
Laurence flinched at the coldness in his friend’s tone. He was not to have found happiness. Not yet. Not until they had shut the auction down. Fate had had other plans for him, though, and though he still wanted answers, he was not complaining about his friend finding the love of his life.
“I am glad you are not going to be doing this alone,” Laurence said quietly. “But please know that if you ever need my help, all you have to do is ask.”
Solomon gave a curt nod, but said nothing.
A moment later, Ellen opened the study door, looking as refreshed and as beautiful as ever.
He lifted his arm to her, and though he could still feel the sexual tension sizzling throughout her, she tucked herself against him and gave Solomon a pleasant greeting.
“You look beautiful, Ellen,” Solomon answered, going to her to brush a kiss on her cheek. “And happy. It is good to see.”
“Thank you, Solomon,” she answered, her tone soft and comforting as she looked affectionately at Laurence’s best friend. “It is good to see you again. Thank you so much for coming.”
Solomon raised his glass toward her.
“Happy to be here,” he replied, though his tone negated such a response.
“Our guests are starting to arrive, my love,” Ellen said, turning to look up at Laurence.
“Hm. Yes,” he muttered as he gave a nod. “I suppose Madalene wants the three of us to greet them together.”
Ellen’s smile was warm as she said, “You know she does.”
Laurence chuckled, but the sound quickly faded as he turned back to his obviously haunted friend.
“Stay in here as long as you like,” he offered.
Solomon only gave another curt nod and turned to the fireplace as Laurence led Ellen out of the room.
“Is he going to be alright?” Ellen whispered as they walked toward the foyer.
“Not until this business with the auction is officially over,” Laurence sighed, “and even then, I fear he will continue to be discontent for quite some time.”
He stopped suddenly and pulled Ellen into a tight embrace.
“Thank you,” he whispered, then kissed her deeply.
Ellen’s eyes were dazed when he finally pulled back, revealing the delight from their kiss.
“What for?” she breathed, as if still dazed.
“For pulling me out of the darkness from which Solomon still suffers,” Laurence explained, stroking his palms down the sleeves of her gown.
As if she did not know how to answer that, Ellen leaned up on her toes and kissed him again.
“Have you two not done enough of that lately?”
They broke away, smiling, as they heard Madalene huff her question.
“No,” they answered in unison, turning to her.
She shook her head as a smirk formed on her face, undoing her efforts to appear disapproving.
“Well, try to resist one another for a few hours, would you?” she asked. “Our guests are coming to the door.”
With a grin still on his face, Laurence looped his arm through Ellen’s, then offered his free arm to his sister as they approached her. She took it, and the three of them walked into the foyer to welcome their guests.
Deborah and Cedric Redwyne, the Duchess and Duke of Calder, arrived first, with Godric following right behind them. Ellen and Deborah embraced one another as if they were old friends, as Laurence shook hands with the former, infamous rake and the man with whom Solomon had become friends.
Laurence was grateful that, after reading about Benedict’s hanging in the papers, Deborah had reached out to Ellen two weeks ago.
The two had been writing constantly, and Deborah was, in his opinion, a vast improvement of a friend compared to Judith, who had been smart enough to stay away ever since Ellen had stood up to her.
Laurence shared a brief welcome with Godric before the man asked if Solomon had arrived.
“He is in my study just down the hall,” Laurence answered, waving a hand in that direction. “Please feel free to join him if you like; we want everyone to be comfortable.”
“I believe I shall,” Godric said with a curt nod. “I do not do well with crowds.”
Laurence only gave a nod of understanding, grateful that his friend was at least going to have some company.
Algernon and Beatrice Fitzroy, the Duke and Duchess of Morcaster, arrived next.
Laurence had only recently learned that their relationship had also been a product of rare circumstances involving the auction.
Like himself and Cedric, Algernon had not gone to purchase a lover, but for other reasons.
He looked forward to getting to know Algernon better, and from the way Ellen was chatting comfortably with Beatrice, he wagered that the two were already on their way to a close friendship.
Laurence looked around the foyer as he chatted with Cedric and Algernon, and his eye landed on his wife.
She was no longer standing away from the women as she used to, but was now a part of their circle.
His heart skipped a beat as he watched her, and he wondered, despite all the awful circumstances the auction had created, if it was possible that some good had come of it.
The End?