Page 65 of Tempting a Lonely Lord
“Even so, I should check on him…”
“You’re going to make me wait for an answer?” William asked, with an arch of his brows.
She bit her lower lip and gazed up at him with an impish grin, which elicited a groan from him that made her smile evenwider. “I would love to become your wife, if you will kiss me… and make it one of the good ones.”
“There’s nothing I’d rather do.” William bent and captured her lips in a heady kiss. “I love you, Lady Bella Connolly.”
“And I love you too, Lord William Dudley,” she said, sighing.
He pressed his lips against hers once more, and as their breaths mingled, their tongues met in a teasing, sweet dance, while his fingertips ran alongside her jawline, and he looked into her eyes. The rest of the world faded away, leaving only the heat between them and the quiet hum of pleasure as their lips clung together, exploring, teasing, and tasting. It was a kiss that sealed their love and reaffirmed the promise of a future together.
~*~
Epilogue
A year later
Bridgewater Family Cemetery
Wiping tears from her eyes, Bella brushed off the leaves from the bed of her father’s and mother’s graves. She felt a quiet sense of peace knowing her parents were together. She took immense comfort in that—even though she felt the loss of their passing every day.
Today marked the second anniversary of her father’s death, and the questions surrounding his death had finally been put to rest. His death had been intentional, part of Baron Darkmoor’s evil plot to seize her father’s land and control her. Thankfully, that was thwarted partly because of the protective influence of her father’s spirit.
It had been almost three years since her sweet mother had succumbed to the wasting disease. Her father had wanted her final days spent in Dover with a peaceful and relaxing view of the sea. Sadly, they lost her only a month after they arrived. As much as Bella had hated leaving their country estate in Hertfordshire, where there were so many memories of Mama, she finally understood her father’s decision to make this her final resting place. Upon standing here and looking out at the ocean, Mama declared this her favorite place on earth.
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw William, holding the leads of Winterborne and Duchess, and felt the familiar, powerful feeling she always experienced here, a feeling that he was the person her parents had always wanted for her.
She rose and went to him. “Perhaps Winterborne will find a similar sense of peacefulness near Papa,” she suggested, taking the reins of her horse.
“And how about Duchess?” he asked, smiling, his eyes crinkling with laughter.
“I think Papa would find great delight in what has unfolded with my horses,” she replied, laughing too. When Duchess arrived at Bridgewater Manor, she developed an unmistakable fondness for William, which Bella found utterly amusing. Particularly because Duchess made her preference known whenever Bella would try to saddle her. She would look at William with the most soulful eyes and whinny, finally calming down when he approached.
One day, Michael had blurted over dinner, “Duchess looks at William the way you look at Bella,” in front of the grandmothers.
To which Grandmère said with a cheeky smile, “And what way is that, Michael?”
Michael fluttered his eyelashes and heaved a deep sigh. “Ahhh… Like that,” he said, giving his best imitation of a sigh and fluttering eyelashes from Bella.
The table erupted in laughter, as they all realized that the horsehadtaken a fancy to William. Since William didn’t have a preferred horse, he was open to the idea of taking a favored horse. And it seemed Duchess was determined it would be her.
As they neared the gravestones now, a gentle breeze stirred the air, rustling the golden leaves of the nearby oak. The wind lifted those that had settled atop her parents’ gravestones, sending them into a slow, swirling dance. Around them, dandelions and the pale violet blooms of winter heliotrope swayed in quiet harmony, their soft whispers merging with the hush of the moment.
Bella and William exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them, their eyes reflecting the same quiet awe.
Then, as if attuned to something beyond their senses, Winterbornestepped forward. The stallion let out a low, resonant neigh, dipping his head toward her father’s grave—as though he were listening to a voice only he could hear.
“How remarkable. It’s almost as if the leaves are whispering to him in the wind,” Bella murmured.
“Perhaps they are,” William said, pulling her close.
“If I close my eyes, I can smell my mother’s fragrance—jasmine,” she said, looking up at him and smiling.
“I smell it too, and I’ve never smelled it so strongly. Is that why you wear the jasmine fragrance, darling?” he asked. He leaned in slightly. “It was one of the first things I noticed about you—beyond your generous spirit, your beauty, and a few other things I fully intend to worship tonight,” he added in a low whisper, his eyes gleaming with promise.
Heat flooded her cheeks. Even after almost a year as husband and wife, William still had the power to make her blush—both with his words and the way he looked at her.
“Mother gifted me a bottle of herjasmine fragrance on my sixteenth birthday,” she admitted softly. “I’ve loved it ever since. And now, it makes me feel closer to her.”
