Page 48 of His Grace, the Duke
With two more thrusts, Renley lifted his hips, burying himself deep as he came. Burke followed right behind, his warm release filling her. At the same time, he pressed down with his thumb. Rosalie cried out a final release. It was all she could do to keep the splintering pieces of her soul together as they ruined her so beautifully, so completely. Coming down from the high, only one thought remained: She was irrevocably lost to them.
***
Rosalie was in a daze. She didn’t know how or when it happened, but she was being carried in Renley’s arms back towards the bed. She wore a fresh chemise, her body washed clean. He’d been so gentle as he tended to her, whispering softwords of affirmation. He kissed her forehead before setting her down on the bed.
Burke was waiting for them, his head propped up on one arm. The intensity of his gaze had her feeling weak all over again. “Come here,” he said, holding out his hand.
She shifted over, her whole body weak and shaky.
Burke wrapped her in his arms, weaving his legs in with hers. He kissed her forehead, her temple, her tender lips. “Do you know what you mean to me?” he whispered, bringing her hand to his lips and pressing kisses to each finger. “Do you have any earthly idea?”
She nuzzled into him, letting his words shelter her like a warm blanket. Movement behind her made her turn. Renley was still standing beside the bed. Her heart raced for a moment as she considered the thought that he might leave. She reached out her hand. “Please, don’t go,” she whispered. “Stay with me... with us.”
Renley glanced over at Burke, a hopeful yet wary look in his eye. Whatever look Burke returned, it was enough to have Renley sinking onto the bed. Rosalie twisted in Burke’s hold, reaching for Renley with both hands. He came to her, sliding close enough to touch her from hip to knee. She soaked in the features of his beautiful face and knew he was doing the same.
Behind her, Burke nuzzled her neck. “Tomorrow, everything changes,” she murmured.
“Everything and nothing,” Burke replied, kissing her shoulder.
“The house will be full of people who won’t understand us... won’t understandthis,” she added. “I won’t see any of you ruined or compromised because of me.”
“Leave our reputations to us,” Burke muttered. “Yours is the only one that matters.”
Renley inched closer to kiss her forehead. “You’re safe with us, Rose.”
The words should have been a balm; instead, they set her on edge. She didn’t know what was coming next. Tomorrow, the house would fill with gossips and social climbers. She’d have to contend day in and day out with a despondent duke, a domineering duchess, and a parade of preening ladies and their eagle-eyed mamas.
This peace wasn’t meant to last. This joy, this feeling of utter contentment in their arms—it could never last. It was the most resounding lesson of her life. The first to learn, the deepest to scar. Nothing, especially love, lasted forever.
But she could give herself this moment. Nestled between her two beautiful men, cherished and protected, she would let herself feel everything in her heart. Tonight, she would dream of it, a beautiful dream of forever.
And in the morning, she would wake.
23
Rosalie
The following morning,everyone was on high alert waiting for the arrival of the duke and the rest of the house party. Rosalie saw nothing of the gentlemen, as they were all out attending to various affairs. She spent the morning oscillating between trying to be helpful to the horde of harried servants and just trying to stay out of the way.
“When should we expect them?” she asked, helping Mrs. Robbins tend to a floral arrangement in the morning room.
“Oh, not ‘til this evening. Just in time for dinner, if the roads are good. You won’t be on your own much longer, dear. Perhaps you’d like to sketch this morning?”
Rosalie hissed and pulled her hand out of the flowers. Mrs. Robbins’ words had distracted her and she pricked her thumb on a thorn. She glanced down at the pad of her thumb, seeing a little spot of red. “Who told you I sketch?” she asked, giving her thumb a little suck to numb the pain.
“Lord James,” Mrs. Robbins replied, her eyes focused on her work. “He had me set out some things for you and put them in the ladies’ day room.”
Rosalie stilled. James told the housekeeper of her hobbies? When? She ducked her face behind the flowers, hoping Mrs. Robbins wouldn’t see her blush as her vision filled with memories of the previous night. His two best friends had shared her so passionately. She still felt them everywhere; her body ached with it. Those memories flashed with others—James pressing her against a bookcase, his lips on her throat, his voice in her ear—
“Miss Harrow, dear? Are you well?”
She blinked, glancing up at Mrs. Robbins, who was watching her with a curious eye. “I am perfectly well, Mrs. Robbins. Just a bit tired.”
Mrs. Robbins pursed her lips. “Yes, well your ride last night must have been rough. You’re looking a little stiff this morning.”
Rosalie wanted to sink through the floor with mortification. She didn’t miss the hint of accusation in Mrs. Robbins’ tone. This woman was daring to challenge her about a reckless, unchaperoned ride with Renley through the rain. If she only knew the truth about the source of Rosalie’s present discomfort... the poor woman would probably die of shock.
“Iamsorry, Mrs. Robbins,” she murmured, tugging loose a wilted carnation. “This position is new to me, and so are its many rules. I’ve never required a maid as a chaperone before. It was never expected of me.” She turned, placing a gentle hand on the lady’s wrist. “I will not risk the honor of this house by riding unchaperoned again.”
