Page 65 of A Duke's Temptation Poetess
Epilogue
A week later
The Roswood Estate was beautifully decorated for the after-wedding celebrations. Clarissa, the Duchess of Hartingdale, smiled as she joined the guests for dinner. Her wedding had occurred just that morning, but it still seemed unreal. She was truly married to Colin, the Duke of Hartingdale. Every time she looked at him, a delighted shiver raced through her like a shooting star.
The ceremony had been small and intimate, with only their loved ones present. It was the quietest that Bath had been since before Lady Roswood’s ball. Shortly after the ball, Lady Roswood had revealed the truth of Lord Creshire’s character. Lord Roswood had formally challenged Lord Creshire to a duel, but rather than fight her, the Earl of Creshire had fled to the Continent.
“You look lovely,” Clarissa’s mother said.
Clarissa smiled. Her mother was still not entirely in anyone’s good graces, but she was trying to make amends. Clarissa was fortunate to have a husband who understood how difficult it was for women to make their way in the world.
“And the ceremony was beautiful,” her mother continued.
It had been. The ceremony had been held in a small, quaint church in Bath. From there, Clarissa and Colin, Lady Bentley and Aunt Matilda, Jane and Lord Watford, Lord and Lady Roswood, and Aunt Frances had returned to the Roswood Estate for a breakfast following the morning wedding. They all sat around a table together in the gardens, surrounded by colourful flowers and sweeping grasses.
Colin placed his hand over Clarissa’s, drawing her attention to him. “I did not notice the ceremony,” he whispered. “I was too occupied looking at my bride.”
“It was beautiful,” Lady Matilda agreed. “I do not think anything was missed by not having the usual lavish wedding.”
“Particularly given that it began with a terrible scandal,” Colin said.
“If anyone will be talking about that,” Lady Roswood replied. “I imagine your scandal will soon be forgotten entirely in light of Lord Creshire’s behaviour.”
Colin nodded gravely. If the table was united by anything, it was their disdain for Lord Creshire’s manipulations. Clarissa had not realised just how heavily Lord Creshire seemed to weigh on Lady Roswood until the man had fled. Lady Roswood had blossomed in his absence, colour coming to her cheeks and a brightness to her eyes.
“I do not imagine he will return to Britain soon,” Lord Roswood said, “if ever.”
“Yes,” Lord Watford said, “but this is rather dour talk following my dear friend’s nuptials. If I may, I think we should turn our attention to something more cheerful.”
“Such as?” Jane asked, grinning.
From Lord Watford’s mischievous expression, Clarissa suspected she already knew what thesomething more cheerfulwas going to be.
Lord Watford grinned. “Jane and I have also found love and are soon to announce our engagement. We thought it might be better to first tell everyone important in our lives of it.”
Clarissa laughed. “I knew that would be it!”
“How wonderful!” Aunt Frances exclaimed.
“I am very happy for you both,” Colin said, raising his glass in a toast to them.
As the well wishes spread around the table, Clarissa relaxed against her chair. She had everything she could have ever hoped for; a husband who loved and respected her, her art, adoring friends and family, and the promise of a wonderful future together. Clarissa found herself happier than she had ever thought possible.
***
That evening, Clarissa and Colin left the Roswood Estate and arrived at their private suite in the York House Hotel. Colin had scarcely closed the door behind when his hands lighted on Clarissa’s hips. “At last,” he said, “I have you all to myself.”
Clarissa grinned, an anxious laugh bubbling from her throat. Colin pulled her flush against him, and Clarissa’s breath hitched as she collided with Colin’s chest. “And I have you,” she said. “It is the wedding night.”
Clarissa had an inkling of what happened between a man and wife during the wedding night, and she was determined to enjoy every moment of it.
He pressed his lips hard against hers, and Clarissa wrapped her arms around his neck. Their bodies fit together like magic, as if they were made just for one another. As Colin deepened the kiss, that now-familiar ache grew between Clarissa’s thighs.
She moaned into his mouth. Colin’s hands drifted down, hitching the skirts of her gown higher and higher. Clarissa gasped as his fingers brushed against her thighs. “Colin,” she whispered. “Oh, Colin!”
He curled his arms around her legs and hoisted her up. Working from instinct, Clarissa wrapped her legs around Colin’s waist. He carried her effortlessly to the bed. She fell backwards against the bedclothes, her dress hitched up in a pool of fabric about her waist.
Colin was on her at once, trailing kisses down her throat and collarbone. Clarissa arched her back, rocking her hips against Colin. His hard manhood brushed against her stomach, and heat blossomed from between her legs.
