Page 97 of The Last Duke She'd Marry
“And so will I.” His expression remained serious. “Come on, Juliet, admit it. You don’t want to be an outcast. The Duchess of Evesham will rise above criticism, once she takes a few simple steps to claim her place in the beau monde.”
She cupped the side of his face and pouted in a way that sensible Juliet Frain would never have done a couple of months ago. “I was looking forward to being wild and scandalous with you.”
His answering grin conveyed an intriguing hint of the rogue that she’d once judged him to be. He hauled her onto his lap. “I most sincerely hope that you’ll fulfill that ambition. Behind closed doors. But in public, I want the world to say that the love of a good woman reformed the incorrigible Duke of Evesham and turned him into a pillar of society.”
“So I still get to be wicked?”
His audible inhalation betrayed excitement. To her surprise, he started to harden under her rump. A pillar, indeed. “Often. Always.”
“Then I believe, Your Grace, we have a plan.”
His visible relief told her how much her rehabilitation meant to him. “Thank you.”
A little wriggle made his interest grow. “But we can be reckless tonight?”
His laugh rang with love, as unmistakable intent gleamed in his eyes. “No need for either of us to turn over a new leaf until at least midday tomorrow, my love.”
She kissed him with every drop of her overflowing happiness. “Then there’s no time to be lost, my dearest duke.”
Epilogue
Venice, Italy, a year later
The moon shining down on the rippling Grand Canal created an unforgettable scene. Juliet Hebden, Duchess of Evesham, leaned back against the tall, powerful man standing behind her and drew in a deep breath of the salty air.
“I loved Paris,” she murmured as Lucas’s arms lashed her closer. His hands settled over her midriff, warm through the slippery silk of her cream nightdress.
He bent to kiss the shoulder bared under the ribbon strap that held up her nightgown. “I know you did. Which is odd, because you didn’t see much beyond our hotel suite.”
It was true. After all their time apart, then the weeks that it took to plan a wedding that shouted defiance to everyone who had snubbed her, she’d been in a fever to give herself over to uninterrupted revels with her virile husband.
“That’s one of the reasons I liked it.”
A wry grunt of agreement. “No argument from me.”
They stood between French doors opening onto a small gothic balcony projecting over the silvery water. The breeze that whispered around them was blissfully warm. October in Italy was balmy. In England, cold autumn weather had set in by now.
She continued to muse on their travels. “And I liked Vienna.”
“We saw a little more of Vienna.”
Spring in the Austrian countryside had been glorious, an explosion of color that echoed the joy in her heart. She cherished the memory of making love in a secret dell beside a stream, where the fresh scent of crushed flowers had mingled with their cries of pleasure.
“And I’ll never forget seeing the Forum by moonlight when we were in Rome.”
“Yes, Rome had its charms.” His embrace tightened, making his deep voice reverberate against her back.
They’d recently enjoyed a passionate interlude. If she turned around, she’d see an elaborate bed carved into a gilt seashell and a chaos of lace-edged linen sheets.
But right now, she couldn’t look away from the enchanted scene before her. The line of ornate palazzi across the water formed dark shapes against the sky, with here and there the glow of a candle to prove that she and Lucas weren’t the only people awake after midnight.
She set one hand upon his where they rested over her stomach. “This is the best by far.”
“I thought you’d like it.”
“I do. So much.”
A companionable silence fell, as Juliet took in the view – and basked in her husband’s nearness. She loved these quiet moments, when she and Lucas communicated without words. His touch spoke of love and protection and pleasure in her company.
