Page 144 of The Duelist for the Ton
He touched her chin, then tilted her face up with his fingertip. “When…?”
“When you appeared out of nowhere, like an angel come to deliver me from sorrow into joy.”
He dipped his head and claimed a kiss.
“W-would you like a slice of pie?” she said.
“I can think of something far more delicious to satisfy my hunger,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Your brother tasked me with taking care of you. I would not wish to disappoint him.”
Oh heavens!
Desire swelled and throbbed inside her body, and she lay back, relishing the sharpening scent of her own need. He lifted her skirts, and she caught her breath as the cool air caressed her skin.
“May I take care of the woman I love?” he whispered.
“Yes, Stephen,” she breathed, “you most certainly may.”
He entered her swiftly, and she gave a soft moan as pleasure flared at the feel of him inside her—pleasure that grew as he began to move in and out of her, slowly at first.
“Is it not most terribly wicked of us?” she whispered. “Out in the country?”
He grew still. “Perhaps we should wait until we’re married.”
“Would you torment me?” she said, arching her back to chase the pleasure.
“No, my love, I would worship you. I intend to spend the rest of my days worshipping you, if you would permit me.”
“You have my permission,” she said, and he moved once more, letting the pleasure build, slowly, “as you have everything of me, including my heart. Stephen, I—”
He silenced her with a kiss and quickened the pace, until she could speak no more. Their twin cries of pleasure filled the air as they sealed their forgiveness, their reunion, and their love.
Epilogue
Stephen led hiswife out of the chapel amid the cheers of the guests. Portia had never looked more beautiful, her glossy, dark locks in contrast to the bone-white gown trimmed with lace. In her arms, she carried their daughter, wearing a christening gown of matching silk. As they reached the carriage, bedecked with white roses courtesy of the children from the Forthridge estate, Angela approached, Mrs. Stowe at her side, and held out her arms.
Portia handed the baby over.
“Take care of her for me, Angela.”
“Of course,” Angela said. “She’s my favorite niece.”
“She’s youronlyniece,” Stephen said.
“Perhaps not for long,” Angela replied, a smile dancing in her eyes. “I want at least six nieces and nephews.”
Stephen steered his wife toward the carriage, but she paused and turned to Angela.
“She likes her toy cat,” she said. “Make sure she has him with her at night.”
Angela nodded. “Yes, Portia—you told me everything she likes. I’ll not let you down.”
“And—”
“My love,” Stephen said, “our daughter’s in good hands with so many to care for her and love her. Angela will be here duringour vacation, and you have Nerissa and young Tilly. She’ll not want for care—or love.”
“But I hate to leave her.”
“I know, my love, but it’s not for long. And are you not looking forward to visiting the Lakes?”
