Page 68 of Plucked By the Orc

Iris closed her eyes. She heard the snap of the fire in the hearth and her own shallow breathing. For a moment, it was all too much. And yet it still wasn’t enough.

When she opened her eyes once more, his intense gaze bore into her. The flames cast flickering shadows on his broad features, making them even more alluring.

Every part of her life would be determined from this moment.

“I wanted to propose to you, Miss Gabbert,” he said.

“Why didn’t you?”

“You were involved with Felton Maberly.”

“I was not anything like!”

“I admit that now,” he said.

Her heart soared. “So you could try again.”

“I intended to go down on one knee this very evening,” he said. “But one issue still stands between us.”

She tilted her head. “Issue?”

“In my land, as you well know, a physical relationship is consummated before marriage.”

“La,” she whispered. She had savored every moment with Duncan, experienced the most profound pleasure of her life, and yet they hadn’t consummated. Not in the way he meant.

“It’s not just all that which brings us together. Not that I’ve any complaints.”

She drew him closer and then over to the massive armchair. She pushed him gently into it and seated herself on his lap, feeling the muscles of his arms envelope her. She smoothed strands of his black hair back over one horn and then whispered in his ear.

“I love you, Duncan Higgins. There it is. And I gladly agree to marry you. I’ve no doubt we’ll have plenty of mischief of all kinds in our future. You’re stuck with me now.”

Epilogue

May 1818

Duncan took one last look at his book, proud of the final product, a valuable tome to take back to the Hidden Realm. He’d already heard rumors that other orcs wished to join Duncan and Albion in London, seeing as how they had enjoyed such success here.

For all their quirks, Duncan found he could genuinely love humans—Iris Gabbert, primarily among them. The lure of neither money nor revenge nor even the frailty of jealousy that humans and orcs held in common could change that. Iris shared his dream of a quiet, satisfying life apart from the foolishness of society. Close friends and family would be welcome in their home. That was enough.

But how would his book be received in the Hidden Realm? Duncan smiled to himself. When it came down to it, he cared little. He had provided them with the information required to position themselves in human society. Should they choose to do so. The rest was entirely up to them.

As for Duncan, he now had far more important business to attend to. A clear window pane in his library served well enough for him to adjust his cravat and ensure he appeared suitable.

When he turned, he found Iris waiting in the doorway, the freshest blossoms from the garden in hand. The bouquet included, naturally, her namesake flower, the regal blue-purple petals tinged with a hint of gold.

The legal contract so important to the English had been procured. They would now marry in the traditional way of the orcs, with a small, private ceremony at home. They had asked Albion and Iris’s friend, Lottie Greenstreet—for whom Iris had secured a position as an assistant at a respectable flower shop—to serve as witnesses. Mother had insisted she be there as well, and Duncan hadn’t the energy to defy the Dowager Duchess of Barrington, even if he wanted to do so.

Iris had seemed pleased at the prospect of an Orcan wedding, so long as they served gingerbread cake afterward. And thankfully, Orcan traditions didn’t abide the foolishness of a groom not seeing his bride prior to exchanging vows.

This morning, she had on the purple dress she’d worn to Lady Bellingham’s. It had the same effect, causing his claws to retract and a faint growl to emanate from his throat.

He moved forward, feeling that his life was only now truly beginning.

Duncan held his hands in hers as they faced one another. He looked dashing and a touch rakish in a suit with a waistcoat that matched her purple gown and a strikingly large cravat.

“Iris Gabbert,” he told her solemnly as their small circle of guests watched. “I vow to commit my life, heart, and soul to you. Do you feel the same?”

“Duncan Higgins, Duke of Barrington,” Iris responded. “I have found happiness and pleasure in your companionship and vow to commit my life to yours, as you do to mine. Freely and most willingly.”

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