Page 38 of Secrets of a Duke's Heart
“Yes, I specifically ordered the rainstorm. Atmospheric, don’t you think?” he deadpanned.
Clarissa laughed and hopped into his arms, trusting him to catch her. He did, with a grunt, and captured her lips in another devouring kiss. He braced her against the beam long enough to unfasten his trousers and slicked the head along her slippery center.
“Is it too early to start making heirs?” he asked in a tone that was a low roll of thunder.
“Never. After all, you are getting old to become a father,” she teased. “Forty, if I remember correctly? Did I miss your birthday?”
“It’s next week, minx.”
He entered her in a single thrust, pinning her like a butterfly to a board. She strained to take him, feeling herself stretch to accommodate his girth. His mouth was on her throat, sucking and nipping the delicate flesh. Need sizzled along her skin, her spine a lightning rod for the currents of desire racing through her. He withdrew and plunged forward again with a low moan.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Like that.”
He gave her everything and more. Pleasure rose until it overflowed her edges, brimming with possibility. She loved him, for all his faults and flaws, just as he loved her.
“Be my wife, Clarissa, I beg you.”
“Yes.”
“Mine for always.”
“Yes,” she said again, barely a breath before the crest broke over her and she came, her back tense and thighs tight around his hips. His rhythm broke. Hot seed flooded her. Clarissa clung to him like he was life itself. The peak faded slowly. He withdrew and gently set her on the ground but did not let her go. He kept touching her wonderingly, as if he couldn’t quite believe she were real.
“You’ll really marry me?”
“Yes, of course. We went over that.”
“But I haven’t asked your father.”
“He’s dead. There is no one to ask. If it makes you feel better, my cousin has already implied he would grant his permission, should you seek it.”
“I did, back in Cavalier Cove. I ought to ensure he hasn’t changed his mind.”
The rain dwindled into a gentle mist. Such violent storms rarely lasted long. They stood side-by-side, watching the afternoon sun attempt to peek through the roiling clouds.
“Thaniel hasn’t changed his mind,” she said, squeezing his hand. They stood there, gazing out at the grand estate that was their home, together, for a long time.
EPILOGUE
Clarissa had always believed in the sayingmarry in haste, repent at leisure.In the end, there was no putting it off. Theirs would already be a seven-month baby, when it was born. Waiting any longer would have shamed the family name, and Jude wouldn’t stand for that.
On a bright, brisk day in October, they were married in the family chapel at Acton Heath. Estelle served as her flower girl. Harriet was unable to attend, being pregnant and living in France, but she sent a sweet gift of fine lace which Clarissa proudly wore on her wedding gown. Nathaniel and her entire family attended the ceremony, and the huge dining room was so full during the wedding breakfast that they had to scramble to find extra chairs.
Pamela and her four sons, however, ensured the day wasn’t perfect. Unlike the illegitimate daughter she scorned, Pamela was self-centered and clearly thrived on male attention, which she did not receive enough of on her brother’s wedding day. She pouted and preened, attempting to upstage Clarissa at every opportunity. Even the gown she chose to wear to the occasion was designed to command male attention.
Clarissa came away from their interactions with the conclusion that in a sad way, Harriet had been lucky not to be raised by Pamela. Her Uncle Monty had been far more of a parent to her than her birth mother.
Apart from dealing with her new sister-in-law, being a duchess wasn’t nearly as taxing as she had feared.
Yes, the scrutiny from the scandal rags and speculation about how a woman of her advanced age and humble origins had managed to ensnare England’s most desirable duke grew tiresome, but mostly, she had the luxury of largely ignoring them.
Once the guests were gone and the house had settled back into a semblance of normality, she made preparing for their baby her topmost priority. To keep her mind busy and get out into the countryside for beneficial exercise, she began a survey of land management projects underway and planned at the estate. Thus, by sheer coincidence, she found herself lying on a settee in Jude’s massive library, one hand absently on her rounded stomach, reading about land management.
The couch and the library were different, and her morning dress was certainly an upgrade from the shabby pink one she had worn last summer when Lord Montague burst into Nathaniel’s library. Otherwise, she was in almost the identical pose when her husband barged loudly into the library and disturbed her reading. Again.
“Why did you save the hedgerow?” he demanded.
“Is that what has you in such a huff?” She placed the ribbon in her book and awkwardly got up.
