Extended Epilogue
Three Months Later
“Are you sure, dear?” William asked as she looked at the deed to her home. “If you sign this over, it will be done.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m only renting the refurbished house, William, not ordering it to be taken apart brick by brick. You spent a lot of money to get it back to its glory, why not get something back from it?”
He shrugged and sat, shifting his silk robe. “Are you sure you’re not letting it to buy a new summer wardrobe?”
“Why would I need that?” she scoffed. “I already have one, made to my standards.”
Laughing, he added, “Indeed, considering it was you who made them.”
“Precisely, and for a fraction of the cost too,” Bridget scribbled her signature under William’s as he was the title holder for Everton Manor.
Getting to her feet, she crossed over to William and seductively straddled him. Instantly, his hands settled on her hips and slid around to her derrière. “Are you naked under this?” she whispered.
She rubbed herself on him and leaned in to kiss his lips, moving her mouth from his to skim over his bristled jaw, and then down his neck while her hands slid down his chest.
“Are you asking for something, my dear?” He feigned ignorance.
Bridget loosened the tie on her robe and he slid the lapels down, baring her breasts. Lust pounded in his veins, he kissed down her collarbone, down to her petite, firm curves, then closed his lips around one, sucking the taught tips.
He reached between her legs, and the extent of her arousal whipped through him like a storm. “You’re drenched.”
Reverently, he slipped his finger inside her dew-soaked slit and a hiss escaped her as he trailed his finger up to her nub, rubbing and petting. Sharp whimpers fell from her lips at the sensations. He worked on her slick bud, circling and stroking, over and over until she was a trembling mess.
With his mouth on her ear, he pushed his middle finger deep inside her and a gasping moan escaped her, as she clawed at his shoulder. He pulled out his finger, and then wickedly licked it before he slipped it back in, slow and deep.
Her breasts were lifting and falling with every breath. “I… need you, William.”
He kissed her neck, tenderly, his voice a low murmur of need. “How do you want me to love you tonight?”
“Well, we have a ball to attend in less than two hours,” she giggled. “So hard and quick is what I crave.”
Adjusting her legs over the wide wooden arms of the chair, he unpinned her hair so that the curtain of her tresses fell around them in cascading waves. He shifted his silk banyan to free his engorged arousal.
His hands glided down and cupped her bottom and then positioned her over his length, pressing inside her, opening her, stretching her almost unbearably until he seated himself to the hilt. She keened, holding onto him as every thrust ground him against her.
With each inward plunge, her pleasure washed over her. Wildness overtook her, and she slid her fingers through its silky thickness. He pumped his hips over and over, shuttling into her wet core.
Ecstasy erupted in her core as she came apart around him in pieces—he swallowed her cries, and a guttural sound burst from his throat as he spent inside of her.
She held onto him, rocking softly on his lap while he allowed the swirling sensation to beat through his body. Bridget sighed, “I needed that.”
He kissed her neck. “So did I.”
“Do we have to attend this ball?” she muttered. “I’d rather stay here with you.”
Chuckling, he gently eased her off him, and standing, he carried her to the readied bathtub and laid her inside the oil-scented water. Peeling his housecoat, he joined her, then drew her against his chest. “Let’s enjoy this evening. It’s our first high-society ball as the Duke and Duchess of Arlington.”
“First of many,” she smiled.
***
The harpist started up on the night and William drifted his arm around Bridget’s slender waist; the fabric of her ivory gown clung to her exquisite bosom and curvy hips, flaring into full skirts.
With her cinnamon hair gleaming in the light and cascading ringlets, she looked like a faerie princess. He felt like a wicked sorcerer who wanted to spirit her away so that he could have her all to himself.
He tightened his grip on her waist, and they fell into a perfect rhythm. It was not the cadence of the dance that cast a spell over him, it was having her as partner; she responded to his direction, but not blindly. Bridget was no wilting wallflower, her confidence growing daily.
If the roles were reversed, she could lead him just as well.
“What is making you look so amused and mischievous?” she asked, light flashing in her eyes as she studied his visage.
“I was merely thinking how beautiful you are.” He paused as they continued to whirl about the room.
“Liar,” she smiled.
“I was wondering how you would survive being married to a troglodyte,” he corrected.
“Another fabrication,” she giggled.
“I am simply admiring how formidable you are becoming,” he said finally. “You are a duchess in every right.”
“At last, the truth,” she smiled as he spun her in a dizzying turn. “And I am a duchess, your duchess.”
He had no qualms dropping a chaste kiss on her cheek as they parted ways on the dance floor. He watched her go over to her godmother, who, after many refusals, had now been moved into the dowager cottage on his estate and was living in comfortable ease.
“Have you seen the news today?” Colin asked, glass of champagne in hand. “The saboteur in your life was executed at Tyburn. The judge did not have to think twice to send him to hang when he read that damning notebook you handed him.”
Grunting, William swallowed a mouthful of arrack punch. “He killed a man from the army with deliberate planning and precise execution. Witnesses placed him at the ring that night Frederick collapsed, giving him a bottle of water that was undoubtedly spiked with hemlock.”
“At least justice prevailed,” Andrew replied.
“And the poor man’s body has been moved to a respectable place to rest,” Colin murmured.
“Any news about your inheritance?” Andrew asked.
William’s eyes suddenly widened upon remembering the reason he had decided to get married in the first place. “I never pressed the issue,” he replied. “I got the one thing I truly wanted and won the one thing I never knew I did need; my lovely wife. The winnings from the Circuit have come a long way, my debts are paid off, her estate is renewed, my home has more staff, and we still have a good portion left in Lloyds. My uncle will come around soon enough, but for now, I am happy.”
“The only thing left is for you to have two little pitter patters of feet on the floor,” Andrew laughed.
“You’re getting ahead of yourself. Let me enjoy her before I transition into a family man.,” William grumbled, then from his periphery, spotted Colin staring blankly across the other half of the room.
Bridget’s two friends had entered the room and one of them had captured his friend’s attention: demure Lady Josephine. He grinned, “Maybe I am not the only one.”
***
“You look radiant,” Eleanor smiled pleasantly. “I am so pleased to see you happy, my dear.”
“Life has changed dramatically,” Bridget sighed, hugging her friend. “Would you think that only three months ago, I was toiling over cloth and needle, trying to save pennies, hoping to buy back a thirteen-thousand-pound estate.”
Josephine pressed her palm to her mouth, “In ten lifetimes, you would have never gotten close.”
“I know,” she whispered, training her gaze to her husband, but then spotting Colin’s eyes fixed on her friend. “Someone is staring at you, Josie.”
Thin brows lifting, the merchant’s daughter asked, “Who?”
“Baron Thornbury,” Bridget replied.
“Oh, God no,” Josie shook her head vehemently. “He is another one of the worst rakehells in London.”
“Well, I met the King of them and married him,” Bridget snickered while plucking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “I don’t think you can do any worse.”
“I’d rather not try, thank you,” Josie murmured, pink creeping up her cheeks.
“Is all the business with your late brother sorted?” Eleanor calmly turned the conversation and Bridget nodded.
“Everything has been arranged and finalized, thank you,” she let out a breath. “It was a long, twisted road, but it worked out in the end.”
“Good,” Ellie smiled, then nodded, “Your beau is here to claim you for another dance.”
When she turned to William, her face lit up and she smiled, “Another waltz?”
“Of course,” he took her hand and kissed the back of it, then nodded to the two gentlewomen. “My ladies, would you mind if I borrowed your friend away for a dance?”
“Never,” Ellie beamed, “Just don’t keep her away for too long.”
As William swept her off to the floor, Bridget asked, “Have you noticed your friend Lightholder staring at Josephine?”
“I have,” he replied. “But I do not think he will ever approach her.”
“Maybe that is where we come in,” she smiled deviously. “When was the last time you read Much Ado about Nothing?”