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Her Devil of a Duke Bonus Ending

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Her Devil of a Duke

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Extended Epilogue

Four Years Later

 

Evelyn stirred in the soft embrace of her bed, the silk sheets caressing her skin as she slowly awoke. The room was dark and quiet, the hearth casting its flickering gloss across the walls. She reached out for Rafe, expecting to find him lying beside her, but her hand met only cold, empty space.

Suddenly, the darkness enveloped her like a heavy cloak. Yet, though she would normally be afraid, she found herself more curious than frightened presently, a testament to how much she had recovered from her past fears.

Where was Rafe? She glanced around their shared bedchamber, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she slipped her feet into a pair of delicate slippers, then wrapped a silken robe around her. With that, she opened the door and tiptoed out of the bedchamber.  

As she moved through the castle, she couldn’t help but admire the exquisite decorations Rafe and herself had painstakingly arranged for the upcoming ball. It would be the first ball to be hosted in Ravensworth Castle in a decade, and she made certain it would live up to its expectations. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, their prisms sparkling like diamonds, while garlands of roses adorned the grand staircase. Even in the dim light of the night, everything looked perfect, and Evelyn felt a swell of pride at what she and Rafe had accomplished together.

Turning a corner, she let out a small squeak as she collided with someone. “Katherine!” she exclaimed, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Good heavens, Evelyn, you scared me half to death!” Kitty gasped, clutching at her own chest. “I thought you were the ghost of the west wing!”

“Ghost?” Evelyn asked, her brows raising but the tension in her shoulders dissipating. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“I heard a strange noise coming from that direction,” Kitty whispered dramatically as she pointed back to where she had just come from. “I couldn’t sleep before. I don’t think I can now, even if I tried.”

Evelyn laughed. “Weren’t you sharing your chamber with Bridget? What did she have to say about it?”

“Ah, yes. Bridget took one listen to my ghostly theory and declared herself uninterested, choosing instead to get her beauty sleep for the big event tomorrow,” Kitty explained, rolling her eyes dramatically.

“That makes the one of us,” Evelyn shrugged. “Well, I was just looking for Rafe,” she confessed, her voice low as though sharing a secret. “Have you seen him?”

“Rafe? I have not, but can I help you find him, please! I’m not entirely keen on wandering these halls alone after hearing those noises.”

“Then do keep up,” Evelyn said teasingly as she continued down the dimly lit corridor. She could hear the soft patter of Kitty’s footsteps as her cousin scurried after her, not wanting to be left alone in the dark castle.

After a brief and unusual silence from Kitty, she finally spoke again. “By the way, Evelyn,” Kitty began hesitantly, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Do you know if the Viscount of Allerton is attending the Ravensworth Ball tomorrow?”

Evelyn glanced at her, picking up on her cousin’s sudden change in demeanor. “Ah, so that’s where your interests lie,” Evelyn teased. “Yes, he’s on the guest list. He’s a close acquaintance of Rafe if I’m not mistaken.”

“He is?!” Kitty suddenly blushed, looking away briefly. “Perhaps. If it’s not too much trouble, would you introduce me to him?”

Evelyn nudged her cousin with her shoulder. “Oh come on. It is the least I could do. Especially now that Bridget owes me a new gown after I guessed correctly who you had set your caps at.”

“You did what now?” Kitty exclaimed.

“Oh come on, Kitty,” Evelyn grinned, “you were giving him doe eyes all night at the Wilburton’s two weeks ago.

Kitty blushed, even more fiercely this time. “Well, thank you, cousin.”

At that moment, they turned a corner and saw Hester standing by a window, bathed in moonlight. Kitty gasped, clutching Evelyn’s arm.

“Is that… that’s the ghost!” she breathed, her eyes wide with fear.

“Kitty, it’s just Hester!” Evelyn laughed, recognizing her cousin’s silhouette. As they approached to see what she was looking at, Hester beckoned them excitedly.

“Come look,” she urged, gesturing out the window. Together, they gazed upon a heartwarming scene: Rafe and Simon by the lake out on the grounds, playing with her son, Timothy, and Hester’s son, Jasper, under the gentle moonlight.

“Isn’t it just precious?” Hester sighed, her eyes soft with affection.

Evelyn nodded, warmth blossoming in her chest as she watched her husband play wrestling with her son on the soft grass. Perhaps she would find him sooner than she thought. “Come, we should put a stop to this before they beat up our husbands!”

Together, the three cousins descended the stairs and stepped into the warmth of the outdoors. The night air was balmy, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of blooming flowers as they made their way toward the lake. Laughter echoed from the distance, drawing them closer.

As they neared, Stede appeared from behind a treeline, running across them frantically in an attempt to try to marshal the animated boys. “Oh, dear heavens!” Kitty squealed in fright.

Rafe, his shirt slightly unbuttoned and his hair loose, caught Evelyn’s eye. He looked as handsome as ever, and her heart began to race just as it did the first night she saw him at Ravensworth Castle. Noticing her approach, he broke away from the group and met her halfway. Without a second thought, he crushed his lips against hers.

“Ugh, disgusting!” Timothy exclaimed, covering his eyes with his small hands, as the rest burst into a fit of laughter.

Evelyn and Rafe laughed it off, pulling apart just enough to allow Timothy to rush into his mother’s embrace. His red hair and blue eyes mirrored Evelyn’s features, a living reminder that she finally had someone who looked just like her. Jasper, with his blonde hair, hugged his own mother too when he caught sight of her.

“Sorry about that,” Rafe grinned sheepishly, addressing their audience. “We were just trying to get in some final preparations for the ball tomorrow night, but these two wouldn’t go to sleep.”

“Ah, so you decided on a picnic underneath the moonlight instead… without inviting us?” Evelyn chided playfully.

“I will just say, that part was not my idea, dear,” Simon quickly added for Hester.   

“I believe you,” Hester grinned. “My husband is not wise enough to come up with such a plan.”

Everyone burst into a fit of laughter at that comment. Timothy and Jasper wriggled free from their parents’ arms and dashed off once more for the lake. Stede sighed and followed, attempting once again to corral the energetic children.

Evelyn, Hester, and Kitty settled onto the picnic blanket beside Rafe and Simon, the night air warm against their skin.

“Ah, Kitty, Hester tells me a lot about how you enjoy sweet desserts. You simply must try one of these strawberries,” Simon said, tossing one to her that missed the mark entirely and collided with her face instead. “Oops. Sorry.”

Thank you,” Kitty replied with a frown, picking it up from where it landed. She took a bite hesitantly, but then grinned as the sweet juice danced on her tongue. “You’re forgiven, they’re quite delicious!”

“Here, you should try one too, dear,” Rafe said, turning to Evelyn. She opened her mouth submissively, allowing him to place the ripe fruit between her lips. The taste was indeed heavenly, and she couldn’t help but close her eyes to savor it fully.

“Lovebirds,” Kitty mumbled as she chewed.

“You will understand the feeling too someday, Kitty,” Hester giggled.

As Evelyn enjoyed the sweet taste of the fruit, her eyes fell upon a book lying on the picnic blanket. She picked it up, curious, and read the title aloud. “‘The Art of Seduction’, by Lady Whistledown. Is someone trying to improve their skills?”

“Ah, that would be mine,” Simon admitted with a hint of embarrassment. “I thought it might be useful for…” He looked to Hester pleadingly, hoping for a way out of explaining.

“The art of seduction?” Rafe spluttered. “You told me it was the art of war!”

Hester leaned in closer, “And what have you learned so far?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Simon countered.

While the others continued their playful banter, Evelyn felt Rafe’s gaze upon her. Their eyes met, and a silent communication passed between them, filled with longing and desire. Rafe leaned in close, his breath warm on her ear as he whispered, “Do you think we have time for ourselves?”

Evelyn nodded and grinned. Rafe cleared his throat and announced to the group, “Evelyn and I need to make some final adjustments to the catering for the ball tomorrow night. We shouldn’t be long.”

“Oh, do take your time, Duke and Duchess of Ravensworth,” Kitty said, a hint of mischief in her tone.

“Don’t worry, we will,” Rafe replied, much to Evelyn’s embarrassment this time. Rafe took her hand and led her away from the picnic, along the path back to the garden. Once out of sight, he pressed her against a tree, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her deeply. The intensity of his touch made Evelyn blush fiercely.

“Tonight,” Rafe murmured, his voice husky with desire, “I want you to myself.”

Evelyn felt her pulse quicken at his words, her body responding to his with desire. In that moment, Evelyn reflected on the person she used to be – a lonely soul, an outcast, feeling left out from the world, its excitement, and all of its thrills.

But now, wrapped in Rafe’s embrace, she had found the one place she truly belonged. And all it had taken was making the most foolish decision she had ever made!

The End.

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The Blind Duke’s Ward Bonus Ending – Copy

Bonus Ending

The Blind Duke's Ward

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Extended Epilogue

Four Years Later

 

Nathan’s warm hands covered Gemma’s eyes, his fingers interlaced, as he led her down a hallway of Hamilton Castle. She could feel his breath on her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going, Nathan?” she asked with a playful giggle, steadying herself against his strong arms. “You know, you’re not exactly the best guide.”

“Trust me,” he replied, his deep voice resonating through the air. “I’ve had the entire layout of the castle memorized for as long as I can remember. I can assure you, we will reach our destination unscathed.”

Despite his blindness, Nathan moved confidently through the halls, his steps measured and precise. Gemma couldn’t help but marvel at his resilience, still unable to get used to it after all these years. The sound of their synchronized footsteps echoed through the empty corridors, creating an atmosphere of anticipation that sent her heart racing.

“Almost there,” Nathan whispered, his voice betraying a hint of excitement.

At last, they reached the open door to a chamber, which Gemma could make out due to the gentle breeze that flowed from it. She could tell Nathan was eager to reveal his surprise, and he swiftly removed his hands. Blinking in the sudden light, Gemma took in the scene before her, her mouth falling open in awe.

“Surprise, my love,” Nathan whispered into her ear, his face aglow with pride despite his inability to witness her reaction.

Gemma’s eyes filled with tears as she gazed upon the beautiful sight before her. The room was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, casting a golden hue over everything it touched. And at the center of it all stood an exquisite statue, carved entirely of marble. The delicate features and graceful pose left no doubt as to whom it was meant to represent – it was her, captured in perfect detail.

“Oh, Nathan,” she managed to choke out, her voice thick with emotion. “This is… this is absolutely breathtaking. I can’t believe you did this for me…”

“For you?” he replied drily, his fingers brushing against her cheek as he wiped away a stray tear. “How else would I get to touch anything resembling your body whenever you’re busy?”

Gemma playfully slapped Nathan’s chest at his jest. She could hardly find the words to express her gratitude, instead pulling him close and burying her face against him. The love she felt for him swelled within her heart, threatening to overflow as they stood there together, surrounded by the tangible evidence of their bond.

Nathan’s hand slid down to Gemma’s, their fingers intertwining as he led her closer to the statue, allowing her to examine it closer. The statue was dressed in a…quite revealing low-cut gown that pooled at her feet, with her hair in a chignon, resembling her hair on their wedding day four years prior. “I see you’ve been paying some extra attention to…certain details,” she said, only eliciting a grin from Nathan. He knew precisely of what she spoke. “So, is this where you have been slipping off to all these nights? I presumed it was merely a nightcap. It must’ve taken months…”

It was almost eccentric how closely the statue resembled her. Though Nathan was blind, it was clear as day he knew precisely how she looked, and if anything, visualized her as more beautiful than she could have ever hoped.

“It did take a long time, so that’s why the delay, but I believe it is worth it,” Nathan confessed, gently squeezing her hand. “Well, I suppose you have a different view of it than I do.”

“No, it is perfect. Thank you, Nathan,” she whispered, standing on her toes to brush her lips against his. The softness of the kiss seemed to linger in the air. He returned her affection, savoring the taste of her lips.

“Shall we join the others in the garden?” he suggested, a playful lilt in his voice.

Gemma nodded, still awestruck by the exquisite gift before her. “I suppose we should not keep our guests waiting too long.”

***

Gemma’s gaze was immediately drawn to the small wooden table nestled beneath a sprawling oak tree, where Emily and Richard sat, sipping their tea and deluged in conversation. The fragrant scent of roses from the nearby garden beds filled the air as laughter rang out from elsewhere in the gardens, punctuating the idyllic scene.

“Ah, there they are,” Nathan said, as two small figures dashed out from behind the treeline.

Two little boys, one with chestnut curls like Nathan and the other with golden locks like Charlotte, dashed across the lush lawn, their faces flushed with excitement as they played. Their infectious energy captured the attention of everyone present, including Gemma and Nathan.

“Papa!” little Joseph yelled out to Nathan from across the lawn, hot on the tails of the younger boy, Peter. “Is it true there are dragons on the grounds of Kirkby manor that chew up children who misbehave?”

Peter halted to a stop, allowing Joseph to catch up to him. “It is true, Uncle Richard said so,” he murmured in a lower voice.

Emily rolled her eyes, as Richard fell into a fit of laughter. “Uncle Richard is going to have a lot of explaining to do when the children fear stepping a foot out of their home for the next five years,” she began.

“And there you have your answer,” Nathan chimed.  

Joseph stood there with innocent and wide eyes, a confused look on his face. “So it is true?” he squeaked before running off once more, causing everyone to fall into laughter this time.

“He’s so full of life and mischief,” Gemma mused, her eyes sparkling with warmth as she watched their son. The more the years passed by, the more she could see the resemblance to Nathan.

“Much like his mother, wouldn’t you say?” Nathan teased.

“The two of us,” she replied. “I suppose we have only ourselves to blame for his boundless energy.”

Emily and Richard looked up as they approached, their expressions alight with pleasure.

“It was about time you joined us,” Richard chimed in, taking a sip from his teacup before continuing, “Or I would have to listen to another one of my dear wife’s rumor mills about the goings-on of the ton.”

Emily smirked and gently hit him on the shoulder. “Oh, you enjoy them!”

Both Gemma and Nathan took a seat at the chairs laid out in front of them, and just then, a sound from the two kids reached their ears. It was the sound of a rock hitting against the window—luckily with no damage being done.

“Be careful, Master Joseph!” Marshall called out as he made his way from the castle’s balcony into the gardens.

Gemma laughed, a genuine, heartfelt sound. “I never thought I’d see the day Marshall’s reign of tyranny would be overthrown by two young boys.”

A wry smile played at the corners of Marshall’s mouth as he watched the boys dashing about the garden, ignoring his heeding. “I cannot help it with these two,” he remarked, exhausted after chasing them about the castle only hours prior to prevent them from damaging something irreparably. “I suppose that is the cost of having the Duchess’ free-spirited nature condensed into a child. He might put me through the ringer on the daily, but I daresay, I would not have it any other way.”

“Indeed,” Gemma agreed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride at Marshall’s observation. Over the years, they had slowly built a friendship that was now solid and true. Oftentimes, it felt like Marshall displayed greater loyalty to her than Nathan.

“Let’s not forget the Duke’s influence,” said Emily, who sat across from them. “The boy has quite the taste for adventure.”

“That is code for running into anything and everything blindly without thinking,” Richard said jokingly.

As the laughter slowly faded, the garden gate creaked open, drawing everyone’s attention. Charlotte appeared, her cheeks flushed from the warmth of the sun, and a questioning look in her eyes. She approached the table with an air of concern.

“I heard that the boys threw a rock so I came as fast as I could. Was it Peter?” she asked, eyebrows raised in concern.  

“Peter?” Richard chuckled, shaking his head. “Quite the opposite, I assure you. Same as Joseph, your boy is the very picture of a gentleman in the making…”

“When they aren’t looping Marshall in a chase and leaving carnage in their wakes,” Nathan quickly added with a laugh that Richard shared in.

“Oh, behave you two,” Emily reprimanded with a warm smile. “He has been nothing but well-behaved and polite.”

Charlotte exhaled with relief, her smile broadening as she took a seat at the table. “I’m glad to hear it. He can be quite the handful when his energy gets the better of him.”

“Speaking of energy,” Gemma said, casting a fond glance at Nathan, who was now chatting animatedly with Richard about their plans to leave for the recently renovated Kirkby manor tomorrow, “I do believe we’ve worked up quite the appetite.”

“Ah, yes, which reminds me why I came looking for Your Grace in the first place,” Marshall began. “Cook has outdone herself this time, preparing a farewell feast for you all.”

“Then let us not keep her waiting,” Emily suggested, rising from her chair elegantly. “Shall we proceed inside?”

The group murmured their agreement, and they began to make their way toward the house, leaving the sun-drenched garden behind. As they walked, Gemma felt the familiar flutter of desire in her chest, ignited by the nearness of Nathan’s body. Though she knew it was unseemly, she couldn’t help but steal glances at him, admiring the confidence he still possessed and the strength that radiated from his broad shoulders.

The boys soon followed when Marshall had managed to herd them, and Gemma found herself drawing even closer to Nathan, seeking the warmth and comfort of his presence. As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the garden, she knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together – bound by love, passion, and an unbreakable bond.

As wife and husband. 

The End. 

 
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The Mad Duke’s Bride Bonus Ending

Extended Epilogue

The Mad Duke's Bride

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Extended Epilogue

2 Years Later

“Arthur! Do not ride too far ahead!” Selina called out.

The boy to whom she called was seven and had been on horseback since almost before he could walk. Marcus had taught him to be fearless when it came to horses and it still left Selina with her heart in her mouth at times.

“I’m fine mama!” he called back as he pushed the white mare to a gallop.

Selina rode side-saddle, one hand resting on her stomach which was beginning to bulge with the arrival of their fourth child. Arthur, the eldest, was the courageous scamp who lived for the outdoors. Emily, the second, was willowy and genteel, even at five. Peregrine, rode in front of his father, tangling his hands in the horse’s mane and cackling with the delight only a two-year-old can muster. Selina looked at her husband and raised an eyebrow. He grinned.

“Arthur, I believe your mother gave you an order!” he called out.

Arthur complained and griped but he wheeled his horse with the skill of a cavalryman and trotted back towards the others.

“You’re all so slow. Uncle Arthur will get tired of waiting. You know what he’s like.”

“He’s tired of waiting already,” Marcus said, “there he is.”

He pointed to the summit of the Old Gop and there was Arthur Roy. He had a long, thick white beard and a mane of hair that tumbled about his shoulders. He wore a tweed suit and carried a gnarled, oak staff that was taller than he. Selina grinned and waved as he began stumping his way down the hill towards them.

“Took you long enough, didn’t it? What’s the matter, forget your way, did you?” he called out.

It hadn’t taken long for Dai to return. It seemed that Arthur was far more comfortable with the persona of the irreverent Welshman than his own. He claimed that he didn’t know who Arthur Roy was so how could he act like him. He knew who Dai was, what he sounded like, what he looked like. He was like an old pair of boots, comfortable and well-fitted.

“Mama, can I go and greet him? Please?” Arthur pleaded.

“Oh, very well!” Selina relented with a smile, “but no more than a canter please. No galloping on the Gop. You know the rules.”

Arthur flashed a brilliant grin that was entirely his father and spurred his horse to a canter. As he reached his uncle, he swung from the saddle with the agility of a monkey and ran to embrace him.

“Well now, who’s this young Turk riding at me like a knight on his charger, eh? Think you’re fancy do you because you’ve got a fancy horse? Well, let me show you…”

He rummaged in his pocket for something. Selina couldn’t see what it was but knew that Arthur always had things to show the children. Little things of interest that he had picked up on his rambles across the Downs. The kind of things that would only ever interest a child or a man who has devoted himself to nature. That was Arthur. Emily looked to her father. She rode a small pony which was very docile. But, she had fallen under the spell of the Court during visits insisted upon by the Regent. She aspired to nothing so much as being a princess or queen and could think of nothing finer than that. But, there was fun to be had with Uncle Arthur and Selina could see the child torn between showing the proper decorum and pelting across the hillside after her older brother.

“Go, buttercup,” Marcus said, “even princesses get to have adventures sometimes.”

She grinned, jumping from the saddle of her pony, hugging it tightly, and then running to her Uncle. He greeted her by crouching and opening his arms wide. She ran into them and he pretended to be bowled over by her, falling backward into the long grass with a guffaw. His nephew whooped with glee and leaped into the melee himself. Peregrine clapped and made inarticulate squeaks as he watched the fun.

“I fear for your brother sometimes. Our children are too rough with him!” Selina said.

Marcus grinned. “He’s a child himself, I think. And tougher than an old boot. He will wear them out, not the other way around.”

His eyes lingered on her, as they always did. She was not as slender as she had been, not after three children. But Marcus seemed to find her more desirable with every passing day. Now, in full bloom with her fourth, Selina felt particularly cumbersome, but she took comfort in the adoration she saw in Marcus’ eyes. Seven years had changed him too. It had been seven years of hard work, which had left lines around his eyes and the first hints of silver in his hair. That work had seen the complete refurbishment of the Streatham Asylum and the opening of two others. Scholarships had been founded at Oxford, Cambridge, Glasgow, and Edinburgh to bring to qualification a new breed of doctors to run those asylums. The foundation that ran all of the asylums was named after Elizabeth Roy, Arthur and Marcus’ mother.

He had worked himself ferociously to make what had become his dream a reality. It had involved becoming friends with politicians and the wealthiest members of the ton, including the Regent. Selina knew that such work sickened him, that he wanted nothing more than the anonymity that Arthur enjoyed. The time and effort had taken its toll, but to Selina, it merely enhanced his handsome features. It gave him a dignity and gravitas that she liked. Behind them, Valebridge Castle shone. It was a symbol of a family that was proud and whose name was known up and down the country. The crest of the Roy family flew from a flagpole on the highest tower. The ancient walls which had once glowered, were now resplendent with coats of ivy and wisteria that flowered brilliant white in the summer. So vast were its halls that Selina had found she could open up much of its palatial space to the ordinary people. Armies of school children were brought by the cartload from the surrounding towns and villages to see the Castle and learn of its history.

Local priests were recruited to bring them from various Sunday schools but Selina, as Duchess, had recruited her own group of women to bring children from London. It was not simply sight-seeing, in the grounds they learned about farming and other essential skills. And soon, her first school would open in the grounds of Valebridge, specifically for those who could not afford to have their children schooled, and would eventually be joined by other schools in London, Birmingham, and even as far as Glasgow. She and Marcus had worked tirelessly to raise their own family. And to make the country proud of the name, Roy.

The End.

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Trapped with his Virgin Duchess Bonus Ending

Bonus Ending

Trapped with his
Virgin Duchess

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Extended Epilogue

2 years Later

Today marked the commencement of Albert’s second year. An event initially conceived by Charlotte as a quaint gathering, with the innocents from the local foundling home as the guests of honor had bloomed into a veritable fete. This was no small thanks to Mrs. Mayton’s ceaseless enthusiasm, which carried the news throughout the village as swiftly as a bird takes wing. Bless her heart.

Nevertheless, Charlotte found herself buoyed by the atmosphere, thrilled to be the hostess to a merry throng of tenants, villagers, children, and their esteemed peers. No longer merely a phantom, but as the true Duchess of Eldenham.

Rupert and Gilbert, ever the jovial pair, approached with a gift that sparkled in the sunlight. Twin play swords, crafted with care and etched with the moniker of their son: Albert Timothy Arthur Remming. Each name a tribute to those cherished souls who had once graced their lives, now at eternal rest: Charlotte’s late uncle, cousin, and father.

Planting a kiss on each of Albert’s plump cheeks, the duo issued their playful decree. “Grow swiftly, Albert. We await the day we can cross swords in friendly combat.” Charlotte could not help but marvel at the dear companions her son had already acquired.

Diana, now the Countess of Redmont, along with her newlywed husband, had recently returned from an extensive trip across the continent. Their arrival brought not only their joyous company but an assortment of trinkets and curiosities from their travels, gifts for each member of the family.

Nicholas gifted Albert a silver brooch with their family crest on it. “It belonged to Uncle Albert,” he said, and Charlotte’s heart swelled. “He would have wanted to give it to him.

Jeremy, feigning envy, quipped, “Why does Albert receive a greater number of gifts than I?” His playful grumble was met with laughter, and Samuel’s jovial retort, “Because, dear friend, he has usurped you as our favorite!” The drawing room echoed with mirthful chuckles at this banter, the air itself seeming to share in their delight.

The day was perfect. And they couldn’t be more grateful for their blessings.

***

As night fell, their dear Albert was tenderly tucked into his bed, his little eyes heavy with sleep. Jeremy, with a twinkle in his eye, informed Charlotte he had an exhibition of sorts to share with her. Seated in the carriage, he playfully tied a band of silk over her eyes, eliciting a hearty chuckle from his wife.

“Jeremy, I dare say that this rather obstructs the purpose of you showing me anything,” she ribbed him good-naturedly.

A chuckle of his own escaped him. “A modicum of patience, my love,” he countered gently. “I assure you, the anticipation will serve only to enhance the experience.”

Minutes later, the carriage’s gentle jostling subsided, and he carefully assisted her down. Her steps, guided by his confident arm, crunched through what seemed to be a layer of underbrush.

At his signal, she lifted the blindfold, and a sight of breath-stealing beauty filled her vision. They stood by the tranquil expanse of the lake, its still waters transformed into a mirror of the summer moon’s majesty. Awaiting them on the banks was a tableau of an idyllic picnic, meticulously arranged in the soft glow of the lunar light.

“Oh, Jeremy,” her voice came out in a whisper, as if speaking any louder might shatter the enchantment of the moment.

He drew her close, his lips finding hers in a sweet, lingering kiss. When they parted, she met his eyes with a gleam of excitement. “I have some tidings of my own to impart,” she confessed.

With a hand resting protectively on her stomach, she revealed her pregnancy. The flicker of hope and anticipation in his eyes warmed her from within, as though she had swallowed a drop of the moon’s own light.

“Are you certain?” His voice wavered with barely contained emotion.

“I harbored some suspicions and waited to confirm before I broke the news to you. Yes, Jeremy,” she assured him, her voice brimming with joy. “We are awaiting another blessing.”

His face broke into a radiant smile, and she found herself swept up in a flurry of jubilant kisses, their echoes of joy blending harmoniously with the lullaby of the nighttime symphony.

He tenderly descended to his knees, planting a kiss upon her expectant belly with a reverence usually reserved for hallowed ground. His voice, brimming with warmth and humor, flowed out into the night.

“Promise to be a good little squire or damsel for your mother, will you?” He chuckled at his own jest, his laughter ringing out like a merry bell in the calm evening.

Rising to his full height, he looked at her with such eagerness that it was infectious. “I have a premonition it’s a little miss. I find myself longing for a sweet daughter,” he confessed, the anticipation gleaming brightly in his eyes.

“I love you, Charlotte,” he stated, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around her like a comforting shawl. “You are the very embodiment of my joy,” he added, his words caressing her soul.

“And I you, Jeremy,” she responded, her voice soft yet firm. “Thank you for being the source of my happiness too,” she confessed. She leaned in to offer him a tender kiss, a seal of their shared happiness.

As his hand slipped stealthily under her skirts, her heart gave a flutter. He would never mend his ways. A laugh bubbled within Charlotte, the sound filling the air, transforming it into a joyous song in the night. She was complete, and that fact could never be changed.

The End

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Her Dangerous Duke Bonus Ending

Extended Epilogue

Her Dangerous Duke

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Extended Epilogue

1 year later

 

Julia gazed upon her reflection in the mirror, her hand resting lightly on the swell of her belly. It was difficult for her to comprehend that she, Julia Harrington, now Duchess of Ravensworth, was bearing Antony’s child. Her own reflection seemed ethereal, a surreal image of her becoming a mother. Her fingertips trailed over the swell encased in the satin fabric of her gown. She smiled softly at her reflection.

My own child. Our child.

A soft rustling from behind her signaled Catherine’s entrance. The younger woman held tiny white clothes in her hands, the fine fabric catching the morning sunlight streaming in through the windows. “Julia, look at this! These were Edmund’s first clothes, I found them in the guest chamber. Aren’t they absolutely adorable?”

A warm happiness bubbled up from Julia’s chest as she accepted the tiny garment, her hands cradling the fabric. “Oh, Catherine, they are indeed,” she murmured, her eyes sparkling. “It seems impossible that our little Edmund once fit into something this small. It’s hardly been a year and he’s already walking! Aunt Nancy said it took two years for Percy.”

Catherine’s eyes glinted like a proud mother. “Wait till you have your own, Julia. They grow up so quickly.”

Brow furrowed, Julia cautiously voiced a question that had been lingering in her mind these past weeks, “Does it… hurt?”

Catherine’s face grew more solemn, her hand finding Julia’s. “The birth?”

“Everything,” Julia nodded, her bottom lip tucked nervously between her teeth.

“There is pain, Julia,” Catherine admitted, her gaze softening. “And sometimes you might feel you’re in over your head. But the moment you hold your child for the first time, it’ll all be worth it.”

“What about the picnic we have planned for this noon? Should I rest instead? Are you sure it is a good idea to join you all?” Julia asked Catherine desperately, her voice ringing with the trepidation of a soon-to-be mother. She smoothed a hand over her slightly rounded belly.

Catherine laughed, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yes, Julia. He’ll be fine. Just like Edmund. Little ones are far more resilient than we give them credit for.”

“But what about when he cries? How will I know what he needs? And… and what if he doesn’t like me?” The last concern came out as a whisper, carrying with it the depth of her anxieties.

Again, Catherine laughed, and this time, Julia felt her nerves lessen. It was strange, she mused, that she was the older sister seeking counsel from Catherine.

“Trust me, sister,” Catherine said, her voice softening. “He will love you just as much as you already love him. And remember, Antony will be there with you every step of the way.”

Julia felt a warmth spread through her at the mention of Antony. He was to become a father, despite his earlier avowal to never marry. But for her, he had broken that promise. And now, they were to have a child.

Their comfortable silence was cut short by a soft knock on the door. William entered, his eyes scanning the room. “Ladies, have you seen Edmund? It seems I have misplaced him again,” he began, scratching his head in confusion.

The sisters giggled. With a glance towards the French windows, Catherine answered, “Edmund is in the garden with Percy.”

“Really? Percy?” William’s brows rose in surprise. “Are you sure we are speaking of the same Percy?”

Julia joined in William’s astonishment. “Percy has changed quite a lot, hasn’t he?”

She exchanged a look with her sister. “Our Percy, being responsible. Who would have thought?”

“I suppose people can change,” Julia mused, her gaze falling upon the garden outside as her thoughts returned to Antony and his once rakish ways.

“Well, I best go supervise them before Percy teaches him how to play hazard,” William joked before excusing himself to go rescue Edmund.

“Wait for me! I need to see this,” Catherine giggled, shuffling forward and out of the parlor to catch up with her husband.

Julia smiled. Alone in the room once more, she traced her fingers over her stomach, her mind racing with a myriad of emotions.

“Hello, little one,” she murmured, her fingertips dancing lightly over the small bump. “Your mother and father have had to travel quite a winding road to get here, you know. But we’re here now. All because your father, the stubborn man that he is, found it in his heart to love again. I hope you love us too.”

Just as the last word fell from her lips, she felt a pair of strong arms encircling her waist. Antony. His warmth was familiar and comforting. “Are you filling our child’s ears with tales of his old man again?” His breath tickled her ear, sending a delicious shiver down her spine.

“Only the nicest ones,” Julia returned lightly, leaning back into him. Antony’s laughter, deep and rich, vibrated against her back.

“I hope so. We wouldn’t want our child to have an inflated image of his father before they’re even born.” He pressed a soft kiss to the crook of her neck. She turned in his arms, their gazes locking, a current of shared memories and love flowing between them.

“Antony, I…” She bit her lip, uncertain of how to express the depth of her emotions.

“Ssshh…” Antony’s thumb traced over her lower lip. He understood. No words needed to be spoken. He leaned down, capturing her lips with his in a slow, tender kiss. The world ceased to exist, as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the moment.

The sound of a distant clock chimed, breaking the spell. Antony reluctantly pulled away, his gaze mischievous. “We do have a few moments to ourselves before we must leave for the picnic, you know,” he whispered deviously.

A playful blush spread across her cheeks. “Antony, you scoundrel!” she whispered in faux reprimand. Even now, after all they’d been through, he still managed to make her feel like the most cherished woman in the world.

“Only for you, darling,” he winked. He left her side momentarily to close the door to the parlor. Locking the door behind him, he returned to her with a promise of love and desire burning in his eyes.

He cupped her face with a gentleness that still managed to surprise her. His eyes, usually gleaming with mischief, now held a tender heat that made her pulse quicken. His lips sought hers, deepening the kiss with a fervor that drew a soft moan from her.

“I love you, Antony,” she mumbled against his lips, her hands caressing his strong shoulders.

“And I love you, Julia,” he replied, his voice a low growl that sent a delicious thrill through her. “More than life itself.”

Antony’s hands began a languid exploration, trailing down her sides to rest at her hips. A gasp escaped her as his touch grew bolder, the intensity of his kiss making her feel desired and cherished. Antony Sinclair, the Duke of Ravensworth, was no stranger to passion, but with Julia, it was different. It was not a mere desire, but a need, a craving that went beyond the physical.

His roaming fingers found the ties of her gown, deftly releasing them. The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her clad in nothing but her undergarments. His eyes took in her flushed beauty for a silent moment. Julia felt a shiver of anticipation, her body instinctively responding to his unspoken desire.

“Oh, Julia,” Antony murmured, the huskiness of his voice sending shivers down her spine. It was her turn. Julia’s hands went to the collars of his tailcoat as she slipped it over his broad shoulders, before unbuttoning his shirt, and tossing it to the floor among the other clothing. He lowered her to the floor over their pooled clothes.

His fingers traced the laces of her corset, his touch lighting a fire that consumed her every thought, before he released her from the confines of her corset. His hands began a sensual exploration that left her breathless, and his lips took hers in a deepened kiss.

His touch was everywhere, tracing a path of need and desire that left her trembling. His hands roved from her breasts, down her belly, to the apex of her thighs, each caress causing her to arch her back, seeking more.

“I need you, Julia,” Antony’s voice was ragged with desire. His hands found the final barrier to her modesty, a thin shift that was hastily discarded. His touch became more urgent, his fingers exploring her inner thighs before settling on her core and leaving her legs weak.

Antony claimed her lips again, their bodies entwining with a desperation borne out of love. He climbed over her, their bodies seeking solace in the familiar dance of passion. His touch, his taste, the feel of him against her – it all felt intoxicating.

Their lovemaking was slow and deliberate, Antony cherishing every response he drew from her. His hands, his mouth, every part of him worshiped her body, each movement punctuated with whispered words of love.

Their pleasure built, a crescendo of need and longing that left her breathless. As they found their release in each other’s arms, a sense of peace washed over her. Antony cradled her to his chest, their bodies still tangled in a lover’s embrace.

“I love you, Julia. You and our child, you are my world.” Antony’s voice was soft, his words echoing in the silence of their chamber.

Her heart swelled with love. This man, this beautiful, flawed man, was hers. Their journey had been a tumultuous one, but now they were here, bound by a love that was more powerful than anything she’d ever known.

With Antony, and their unborn child, Julia was home. Their love story, now woven with another life, would continue to grow, flourishing with the dawn of each new day. And in the quiet sanctuary of the parlor, they found not just passion, but a love that was eternal.

The End.

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A Deal with a Devilish Duke Bonus Ending

Extended Epilogue

A Deal with a Devilish Duke

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Meredith looked out over the verdant expanse, the sound of rustling leaves in the gentle breeze offering a sweet symphony to her ears. The last time they had been here was three months ago, and now, three months later, a checkered blanket spread on the grass held the remnants of a picnic, while Ethan, her husband, the Duke of Allerton, lounged leisurely with his head in her lap. His eyes were closed, a soft smile gracing his lips as he basked in the serenity of the moment.

Ethan was a stunning sight to behold. His attire was casual yet elegant, a light cream-colored shirt and dark breeches that molded to his powerful thighs. His cravat was discarded, the top buttons of his shirt undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his tanned chest. His ebony hair was tousled, endowing him with an added allure, making him appear almost boyish. This was a far cry from the icy, aloof man she had married. And he had never looked more handsome. 

Meredith blushed as he opened his eyes and caught her in her unabashed admiration. “Enjoying the view, my lady?” he teased, his voice carrying a note of playful intimacy. His dark eyes were brimming with love and affection, a sight she cherished more than she cared to admit.

She looked down at her own attire, a soft muslin dress of cornflower blue, trimmed with delicate lace. Her hair cascaded around her shoulders in loose, chestnut curls. To herself, she was a picture of ordinary beauty, but the way Ethan looked at her, it made her feel like the most exquisite creature in the world.

“Someone has to keep an eye on you,” she retorted playfully, her fingers tracing the lines of his face. “Your reputation is rather notorious, Your Grace.”

Ethan chuckled, taking her hand and pressing a kiss on her knuckles. “Perhaps that was the case sometime long ago. However, I fear it’s been drastically amended of late. I am, as they say, a changed man.”

The memory of the stormy night he chose her over Hartley’s, when he had ridden through the tempest to ensure her safety, brought a warm glow to her heart. It was then that Ethan had laid bare his heart, choosing her, loving her, and declaring it to the world.

“Even for a bookish wallflower?” she quipped, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Especially for a bookish wallflower—who happens to be the love of my life, mind you,” he affirmed, his sincerity echoing in his voice.

“Speaking of books,” Meredith reached out for the worn-out copy of ‘Whispers of Serendipity‘, the same book she’d held on the night they met at the grand ball. She’d been a wallflower then, engrossed in her book amidst the lively crowd, while he had been a rake, a man of icy countenance. How times had changed.

“Ah, that dreaded thing,” Ethan groaned dramatically. His antics elicited a giggle from Meredith, her laughter adding a sweet melody to the afternoon air. “I know the ending. You’ve read it to me a hundred times.”

“Perhaps, but it’s not about the ending…”

“It’s about the journey,” they both said in unison, as she grinned, opening the book to their favorite passage.

Ethan reached into the picnic basket, retrieving a ripe strawberry. With a playful smile, he held it up to her lips. She paused in her reading, a blush staining her cheeks at his teasing gesture.

“Ethan!” she exclaimed in mock scandal, “you’re making it impossible for me to read.”

“That’s the general idea, my dear.” His voice was rich and low, sending a delicious shiver down her spine. “Besides, I find your blush far more captivating than any novel.”

Meredith swatted his arm lightly, her blush deepening. Ethan laughed, the sound echoing across the meadow, carefree and full of joy.

She took the strawberry from him, biting into the juicy fruit as he traced her jawline with his thumb. The intimacy of the moment was not lost on her.

As Meredith read aloud, Ethan lay there, his thumb absentmindedly drawing circles on her palm. The regrets and pain of losing his brother Jeremiah, the trials surrounding Hartley’s, all seemed distant and trivial. Meredith was his home, his haven, his life.

“You know, I never did understand this part,” Ethan suddenly said, smirking, pointing at the book in her hand.

“Which part?” Meredith asked, her eyebrows furrowing in curiosity.

“The part where the hero falls desperately in love with the heroine after seeing her just once. And then travels over continents to find her. It’s too… melodramatic.”

A blush spread across her cheeks, and she feigned annoyance. “That is because you, sir, are heartless.”

“Ah, but am I?” he teased, reaching out to pluck another strawberry from the picnic spread. He held it up, waiting for her to open her mouth before popping it in. “I fell in love with a certain bluestocking, remember?”

“Only after two weeks of grumbling and arguing,” she retorted, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Actually, it was one day of grumbling,” he said with a chuckle, brushing a stray curl from her face. “And thirteen days of finally coming to terms with my love for you.”

There was a pause before Meredith spoke again, her voice hesitant.

“…Speaking of journeys,” Meredith said, a hint of nervous excitement in her voice. She grasped Ethan’s hand and placed it on her stomach, meeting Ethan’s questioning gaze with a radiant smile. “I believe we’re about to embark on another one.”

Ethan’s eyes widened with realization. A moment of stunned silence, and then, he was sitting upright, his joyous laughter echoing through the tranquil surroundings. “We are?” he asked, his voice choked with emotion.

“Yes, I believe we are,” Meredith confirmed, her eyes glistening with happy tears.

Ethan cupped her face, pulling her into a passionate kiss. When they broke apart, they were breathless and laughing, their shared happiness bubbling over.

“From a wallflower to a Duchess to the mother of my child,” Ethan murmured, pressing his forehead against hers. “You’ve brought me more happiness than I ever dared dream.”

“I love you, Ethan,” Meredith confessed, her voice barely a whisper. “And I don’t think I can imagine a future without you.”

They kissed again, this time slow and tender. It was a promise of forever, a promise they each intended to keep. As the sun began its descent, they packed up their picnic, hand in hand. Their hearts were in harmony, beating to the rhythm of their shared joy and anticipation.

As they began their journey back home, they left behind the verdant expanse that had witnessed their love three months ago. Ethan had chosen her over everything else, and as Meredith clung to his arm, she knew their love story was far from over.

In fact, it was only just beginning.

The End.

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The Blind Duke’s Ward Bonus Ending

Bonus Ending

The Blind Duke's Ward

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Extended Epilogue

Four Years Later

 

Nathan’s warm hands covered Gemma’s eyes, his fingers interlaced, as he led her down a hallway of Hamilton Castle. She could feel his breath on her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going, Nathan?” she asked with a playful giggle, steadying herself against his strong arms. “You know, you’re not exactly the best guide.”

“Trust me,” he replied, his deep voice resonating through the air. “I’ve had the entire layout of the castle memorized for as long as I can remember. I can assure you, we will reach our destination unscathed.”

Despite his blindness, Nathan moved confidently through the halls, his steps measured and precise. Gemma couldn’t help but marvel at his resilience, still unable to get used to it after all these years. The sound of their synchronized footsteps echoed through the empty corridors, creating an atmosphere of anticipation that sent her heart racing.

“Almost there,” Nathan whispered, his voice betraying a hint of excitement.

At last, they reached the open door to a chamber, which Gemma could make out due to the gentle breeze that flowed from it. She could tell Nathan was eager to reveal his surprise, and he swiftly removed his hands. Blinking in the sudden light, Gemma took in the scene before her, her mouth falling open in awe.

“Surprise, my love,” Nathan whispered into her ear, his face aglow with pride despite his inability to witness her reaction.

Gemma’s eyes filled with tears as she gazed upon the beautiful sight before her. The room was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, casting a golden hue over everything it touched. And at the center of it all stood an exquisite statue, carved entirely of marble. The delicate features and graceful pose left no doubt as to whom it was meant to represent – it was her, captured in perfect detail.

“Oh, Nathan,” she managed to choke out, her voice thick with emotion. “This is… this is absolutely breathtaking. I can’t believe you did this for me…”

“For you?” he replied drily, his fingers brushing against her cheek as he wiped away a stray tear. “How else would I get to touch anything resembling your body whenever you’re busy?”

Gemma playfully slapped Nathan’s chest at his jest. She could hardly find the words to express her gratitude, instead pulling him close and burying her face against him. The love she felt for him swelled within her heart, threatening to overflow as they stood there together, surrounded by the tangible evidence of their bond.

Nathan’s hand slid down to Gemma’s, their fingers intertwining as he led her closer to the statue, allowing her to examine it closer. The statue was dressed in a…quite revealing low-cut gown that pooled at her feet, with her hair in a chignon, resembling her hair on their wedding day four years prior. “I see you’ve been paying some extra attention to…certain details,” she said, only eliciting a grin from Nathan. He knew precisely of what she spoke. “So, is this where you have been slipping off to all these nights? I presumed it was merely a nightcap. It must’ve taken months…”

It was almost eccentric how closely the statue resembled her. Though Nathan was blind, it was clear as day he knew precisely how she looked, and if anything, visualized her as more beautiful than she could have ever hoped.

“It did take a long time, so that’s why the delay, but I believe it is worth it,” Nathan confessed, gently squeezing her hand. “Well, I suppose you have a different view of it than I do.”

“No, it is perfect. Thank you, Nathan,” she whispered, standing on her toes to brush her lips against his. The softness of the kiss seemed to linger in the air. He returned her affection, savoring the taste of her lips.

“Shall we join the others in the garden?” he suggested, a playful lilt in his voice.

Gemma nodded, still awestruck by the exquisite gift before her. “I suppose we should not keep our guests waiting too long.”

***

Gemma’s gaze was immediately drawn to the small wooden table nestled beneath a sprawling oak tree, where Emily and Richard sat, sipping their tea and deluged in conversation. The fragrant scent of roses from the nearby garden beds filled the air as laughter rang out from elsewhere in the gardens, punctuating the idyllic scene.

“Ah, there they are,” Nathan said, as two small figures dashed out from behind the treeline.

Two little boys, one with chestnut curls like Nathan and the other with golden locks like Charlotte, dashed across the lush lawn, their faces flushed with excitement as they played. Their infectious energy captured the attention of everyone present, including Gemma and Nathan.

“Papa!” little Joseph yelled out to Nathan from across the lawn, hot on the tails of the younger boy, Peter. “Is it true there are dragons on the grounds of Kirkby manor that chew up children who misbehave?”

Peter halted to a stop, allowing Joseph to catch up to him. “It is true, Uncle Richard said so,” he murmured in a lower voice.

Emily rolled her eyes, as Richard fell into a fit of laughter. “Uncle Richard is going to have a lot of explaining to do when the children fear stepping a foot out of their home for the next five years,” she began.

“And there you have your answer,” Nathan chimed.  

Joseph stood there with innocent and wide eyes, a confused look on his face. “So it is true?” he squeaked before running off once more, causing everyone to fall into laughter this time.

“He’s so full of life and mischief,” Gemma mused, her eyes sparkling with warmth as she watched their son. The more the years passed by, the more she could see the resemblance to Nathan.

“Much like his mother, wouldn’t you say?” Nathan teased.

“The two of us,” she replied. “I suppose we have only ourselves to blame for his boundless energy.”

Emily and Richard looked up as they approached, their expressions alight with pleasure.

“It was about time you joined us,” Richard chimed in, taking a sip from his teacup before continuing, “Or I would have to listen to another one of my dear wife’s rumor mills about the goings-on of the ton.”

Emily smirked and gently hit him on the shoulder. “Oh, you enjoy them!”

Both Gemma and Nathan took a seat at the chairs laid out in front of them, and just then, a sound from the two kids reached their ears. It was the sound of a rock hitting against the window—luckily with no damage being done.

“Be careful, Master Joseph!” Marshall called out as he made his way from the castle’s balcony into the gardens.

Gemma laughed, a genuine, heartfelt sound. “I never thought I’d see the day Marshall’s reign of tyranny would be overthrown by two young boys.”

A wry smile played at the corners of Marshall’s mouth as he watched the boys dashing about the garden, ignoring his heeding. “I cannot help it with these two,” he remarked, exhausted after chasing them about the castle only hours prior to prevent them from damaging something irreparably. “I suppose that is the cost of having the Duchess’ free-spirited nature condensed into a child. He might put me through the ringer on the daily, but I daresay, I would not have it any other way.”

“Indeed,” Gemma agreed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride at Marshall’s observation. Over the years, they had slowly built a friendship that was now solid and true. Oftentimes, it felt like Marshall displayed greater loyalty to her than Nathan.

“Let’s not forget the Duke’s influence,” said Emily, who sat across from them. “The boy has quite the taste for adventure.”

“That is code for running into anything and everything blindly without thinking,” Richard said jokingly.

As the laughter slowly faded, the garden gate creaked open, drawing everyone’s attention. Charlotte appeared, her cheeks flushed from the warmth of the sun, and a questioning look in her eyes. She approached the table with an air of concern.

“I heard that the boys threw a rock so I came as fast as I could. Was it Peter?” she asked, eyebrows raised in concern.  

“Peter?” Richard chuckled, shaking his head. “Quite the opposite, I assure you. Same as Joseph, your boy is the very picture of a gentleman in the making…”

“When they aren’t looping Marshall in a chase and leaving carnage in their wakes,” Nathan quickly added with a laugh that Richard shared in.

“Oh, behave you two,” Emily reprimanded with a warm smile. “He has been nothing but well-behaved and polite.”

Charlotte exhaled with relief, her smile broadening as she took a seat at the table. “I’m glad to hear it. He can be quite the handful when his energy gets the better of him.”

“Speaking of energy,” Gemma said, casting a fond glance at Nathan, who was now chatting animatedly with Richard about their plans to leave for the recently renovated Kirkby manor tomorrow, “I do believe we’ve worked up quite the appetite.”

“Ah, yes, which reminds me why I came looking for Your Grace in the first place,” Marshall began. “Cook has outdone herself this time, preparing a farewell feast for you all.”

“Then let us not keep her waiting,” Emily suggested, rising from her chair elegantly. “Shall we proceed inside?”

The group murmured their agreement, and they began to make their way toward the house, leaving the sun-drenched garden behind. As they walked, Gemma felt the familiar flutter of desire in her chest, ignited by the nearness of Nathan’s body. Though she knew it was unseemly, she couldn’t help but steal glances at him, admiring the confidence he still possessed and the strength that radiated from his broad shoulders.

The boys soon followed when Marshall had managed to herd them, and Gemma found herself drawing even closer to Nathan, seeking the warmth and comfort of his presence. As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the garden, she knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together – bound by love, passion, and an unbreakable bond.

As wife and husband. 

The End. 

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The Duke of Wicked Hearts Bonus Ending

Extended Epilogue

The Duke of Wicked Hearts

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Extended Epilogue

1 year later

“Truly, Harriet, Luke would find you beautiful even if you were dressed in a flour sack,” Belle teased, watching her younger sister flit about the room, her energy nearly as vibrant as the various gowns she was inspecting.

The grand dressing room in Richmond Castle, a sanctuary away from the clamor of the servants preparing for the night’s grand ball, was a whirlwind of silk and lace. Harriet, ever the perfectionist, was fussing over the selection of gowns, her face scrunched in thought as she held up one gown after another.

“But Belle,” Harriet huffed, her hands finally settling on an emerald dress with an intricately beaded bodice for the fifth time this evening, “it is not just any ball. It’s one of the Duke’s infamous Masked Balls and our first-anniversary celebration. Everyone who is anyone shall be in attendance! I do not understand for the life of me how you can be so calm.”

Belle walked over to Harriet, the corners of her lips curving into a gentle smile. She tenderly placed her hands on Harriet’s shoulders, guiding her to the chair before the vanity and beckoning her to sit. She was familiar with this side of Harriet and her insistence on perfection. She knew the depth of Harriet’s love for Luke, and the significance she attached to their public appearances. Though both Luke and Belle would always insist she was perfect as she was, Harriet still desired to go the extra mile for her husband, and it was endearing.

Despite the difference in their attitudes – Belle, always calm and collected, and Harriet, bursting with vivacious energy – there was a bond of unspoken understanding between them. The bond was as strong as ever, and though it may have seemed their busy lives away from one another would gradually drive them apart, it only served to bring them closer. No matter how far they would travel with their husbands, they always knew they had a place beside each other when they returned.

Breaking the silence, Belle quipped, “Fretting over your appearance so much, one might think you are the one hosting the ball, not I.” Her hands busied themselves with adjusting the pearls in Harriet’s hair, her touch as gentle as a whisper.

A grin spread across Harriet’s face, her reflection gleaming back at her in the mirror. “Oh, but you are always the belle of the ball, allow your sister this opportunity,” she retorted, her lips twitching at the play on words.

Belle giggled, her laughter filling the room with warmth.

Harriet’s eyes went back to the mirror. “Ugh. Perhaps I should have worn my hair in a demi-chignon as you have. It looks simply atrocious like this. Luke will hate it,” she whined, tugging fretfully at a curly lock.

“I assure you, Harriet, it does not. You look like a woodland nymph. Luke will be spellbound.”

Harriet blushed, a rosy hue dusting her cheeks. “You think so? He does have a rather partial gaze, does he not?”

Belle’s laugh echoed once more. “I do. Now stay still before you dislodge all the pearls in your hair. Remember, beauty isn’t only about appearances. It’s about how you carry yourself and the kindness in your heart.”

Harriet gave a noncommittal hum, but her lips turned upward in a small smile at her sister’s words. She admired herself in the mirror with newfound confidence.

In the silence that followed, Belle watched her sister, her heart swelling with pride. “You look beautiful, Harriet,” she whispered, her eyes misting. “If only Mother could see us now. She’d be so proud.”

Catching Belle’s reflection in the mirror, Harriet swiveled around, concern etching her features. “Are you well, Belle?” she queried, studying her closely. “You look a touch pale, and…”

“Am I glowing?” Belle interrupted with a teasing smile. At Harriet’s confused nod, she placed a hand on her slightly protruding belly.

“You… you’re…” Harriet’s eyes widened with comprehension, and Belle nodded, a warm glow emanating from her.

“Oh, Belle!” Harriet shrieked, flinging her arms around her sister, “A child! How wonderful! I am to be an aunt! Oh dear, I feel old…”

Belle and Harriet’s laughter filled the room, and suddenly the door creaked open, revealing two impeccably dressed gentlemen. Alistair and Luke stood in the doorway, their eyes twinkling with anticipation for the evening ahead. They had been dressed and ready over an hour ago and were now merely waiting on the sisters.

“Why, what’s all the excitement?” Alistair asked, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

Harriet shot Belle a look, an unspoken question in her eyes. Belle met Alistair’s gaze and nodded, the answer reflected in her glowing face.

Everyone seemed to catch on, except Luke. “Why does it always feel like I am the only one who does not… Oh!” His jaw fell open, awestruck.

Alistair’s heart swelled with joy as he gently hugged Belle, whispering words of love and adoration in her ear. He cupped her face, gently brushing a stray lock of blonde hair from her forehead. She had shared the news with him a fortnight ago, but he always reacted the same. “Darling, you will make a wonderful mother.”

“Well, isn’t this an occasion worth celebrating?” Luke guffawed as he made his way to Alistair, giving him a hearty pat on the shoulder.

“We should invite Father, Belle,” Harriet suggested, the magnitude of the news making her generous. “He may not have been the best of fathers, but he is still our blood.”

Belle nodded thoughtfully, a sense of closure washing over her as she agreed to invite their estranged father. She was a duchess, a wife, soon to be a mother. The grudges of the past felt insignificant now.

Just as the sisters and their husbands were settling into their new joy, Gower arrived, his face flushed with a mixture of weariness and anticipation. “Lady Harriet, the modiste has arrived to make the final changes to your gown,” he said. Harriet shot up, her eyes shining with eagerness. Before another word could be said, she dashed out of the room in excitement, with Luke shrugging at Belle and Alistair.

“See what I must deal with,” he chuckled endearingly before he proceeded after her.

Belle took her husband’s arm and giggled.

“Gower, you should get some rest. You have done enough, it will do you some good,” Alistair offered to his butler who had had his hands in a large amount of the preparations for the upcoming ball that evening.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” he bowed and exited the chamber.

When they were finally alone, Alistair’s dark gaze fell on Belle, sending a shiver of delight through her spine. Even after so long, he would still look at her as though she were merely a wallflower for him to seduce. It always made her feel wanted…and excited for the next moment they could spend their time alone. “Belle,” Alistair began, his hands tenderly smoothing her hair. “Do you remember the first time I saw you at my ball?”

She lifted her chin, nodding, as her heart fluttered at the softness in his voice.

“Should I wear the mask tonight, for old times’ sake?”

Belle shook her head, her hand reaching up and grasping the lapels of his tailcoat. “I fell in love with Alistair, not the Masked Host. You, as you are, is who I want.”

Alistair’s hand moved to rest on her growing belly, a silent acknowledgment of the life they had created together. He pulled her closer, pressing his lips onto hers in a gentle kiss.

“I love you, Belle,” he murmured against her lips, his voice filled with tenderness. When she bit his lip teasingly, he pulled back slightly, his features graced with a mischievousness about them. “Dear. I suppose the guests wouldn’t mind waiting an hour longer. They have waited a year after all.” His hands traveled to her shoulders, slipping down her gown effortlessly to her hips, revealing her chemise.

“My Duke cannot wait a mere six hours for his Duchess?” Belle giggled, tracing the curve of his cheeks seductively with the back of her hand.

“He’d rather not.” Alistair’s lips crushed against Belle’s with an ardent passion, sending her heart racing, her skin heating to the touch. 

As they stood there, wrapped up in each other, the castle buzzed with excitement for the impending ball. But to them, in that quiet corner of Richmond Castle, it was just them – a duchess and a duke, bound by love, looking forward to a future filled with shared laughter, tender moments, and the joy of their growing family. 

The End.

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The Duke of Dominance Bonus Ending

Extended Epilogue

The Duke of Dominance

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Extended Epilogue

3 months later…

Sarah whooped as the wind whipped a foam of salt into the air around her. It soaked her face and hair. She turned to beam at Leonardo who stood further back from the prows of the ship. Sarah stood at the most forward point she could reach on the magnificent vessel. She thrilled at the sense of speed and motion as the steady Atlantic wind filled the sails and drove it on. A flash of motion caught her eye down below and she looked to see flashing, silver shapes breaking out of the water. They leaped and frolicked in the wavefront that the ship created before itself, chattering and squeaking their friendship and delight.

“Come and look, Leo! Are these dolphins!” she pointed.

Leonardo joined her but the woman he had been talking to called out.

“They are, Sarah. They enjoy greeting sailors and showing us how much better they are as mariners compared to us!” Elizabeth called.

Sarah looked down in wonder as she felt her husband slip his arm about her waist.

“I do wish you would not get quite so close to the edge,” Leonardo said, also looking down.

Sarah was about to reply when she felt her stomach lurch. She frowned, putting a hand to her stomach. The lurch came again accompanied by a wave of nausea. She had not experienced a single day of seasickness, despite being warned of it by Elizabeth, her mother-in-law, before embarking on this voyage. She was proud that she had been aboard ship from London to the west coast of Africa without a single day of sickness. But now…

“Oh dear,” she gasped. “I think the sea is finally taking its toll on me.”

Leonardo looked at her oddly. “But it is not even a bad day. No rolling to speak of. We are darting through the water, straight as an arrow.”

“Nevertheless…” Sarah said and then was hanging over the side, heaving.

Leonardo held her about the waist as his mother joined her son and daughter-in-law in the prow. Sarah felt utterly miserable, no sickness or illness she had ever experienced had felt as bad. It was as though every scrap of food she had ever eaten was trying to leave her body.

“Take her below, Leo,” Elizabeth said in her curious, half-English, half-American lilt. “I have a remedy for sickness but something tells me we’ll have to let nature take its course.”

Sarah looked at her mother-in-law questioningly for a moment but then a fresh wave of nausea hit her and her stomach dictated where she should be looking. She was dimly aware of Elizabeth talking quietly to Leonardo. Then he was picking her up in his arms and carrying her to their cabin, below decks.

 

***

 

Sometime later she lay on the bed they shared, head hanging over the edge and a wooden bucket placed on the floor beneath her. Leonardo sat next to her, holding her hair away from her pale face.

“Oh, it just isn’t fair, Leo!” she exclaimed. “I cannot be like this for the rest of the voyage. I really wanted this adventure. To see India. To travel on a real sailing ship. To explore! I cannot spend the entire voyage in my cabin!”

Leonardo laughed and Sarah raised an outraged face to glare at him.

“I do not think that you will. You will be sick for a part of it. But only in the mornings.”

She looked at him blankly and he rolled his eyes. “You once chided me for the gaps in my education. My mother believes you may be with child.”

Dismay gave way to a dawning look of unutterable joy.

“Can it be?”

“It certainly can. We’ve had enough opportunities!” Leonardo laughed.

“Oh Leo, a child! Our first child!” Sarah exclaimed.

“I say that we should ensure that we do not return to England before he or she is born. They will be born a British subject and heir to two estates but they will be born on the high seas and will consider the world to be their home!”

His eyes shone and Sarah smiled at the thought, despite her sickness. In fact, the idea seemed to be helping. Or perhaps it was just that there was nothing left to bring up. They had been married for six weeks. On their first morning together as husband and wife, they had talked of Elizabeth and Peter’s desire to return to the sea, to journey on to India and beyond in search of trade. Sarah had been keen to go with them, at least as far as India. And Leonardo had been just as keen. Her worries about the shackles of marriage had proved unfounded. Or rather, her choice of husband had rendered those worries obsolete. Leonardo would not shackle her to duty or society. He was an adventurer, son of an adventurer. And now would be father to an adventurer.

Sarah flopped back on the bed, Leonardo stretching out beside her and cradling her head on his arm.

“Perhaps, they will be born in India. The jewel in the crown,” Leonardo said.

“Or Africa. Born to look out over the great unconquered continent,” Sarah said, placing a hand over her stomach, imagining the baby growing there.

“Or America. Land of the Free is what they call it,” Leonardo said.

“It does not matter,” Sarah sighed. “The world will be theirs.”

They had persuaded Elizabeth and Peter to wait six weeks before departure. Long enough for Leonardo’s solicitor to secure her birthright. The estates left to her by her mother were restored along with Moncrieff, which fell to her after Alexander’s confession to arranging the murder of both her father and his own. That confession had saved his life, leaving him twenty years to serve but sparing him the hangman’s noose. And it had meant that he could not claim the title he held. They reverted to the rightful heir, Sarah Sutton.

Julia had been horrified and mortified in equal terms. That her brother was a murderer and now a common criminal and that her cousin had stolen her betrothed. Nothing could be proved of her collusion with Alexander in the planned murders. It was unclear if there was any collusion or not. Sarah wanted to believe she had not known. Out of compassion for a woman who had never shown her any, Sarah had allowed her to remain at Moncrieff. Aunt Diana would visit her daughter there and Sarah looked forward to seeing the Dowager Countess on her eventual return. Eventual, because they had no immediate plans to return. There was simply so much of the world to see. So much adventure to experience.

She had always been afraid that marriage would deny her that adventure, close off the world from her view. It had taken her meeting Leonardo to learn that it was not true, that she had instead gained a companion to share it all with. 

The End

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Reforming the Icy Duke

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Three Years Later

 

          “I am not ready,” Annabelle whispered ruefully as she watched Penny and Lilly playing their instruments together. They had grown more in the last three years than she could have ever imagined. Taller, more refined, and heartbreakingly beautiful young women. Penny sat at her harp while Lilly accompanied her on the pianoforte, humming softly. Their spirits were much the same as before… but under the stability of a family that would never leave or abandon them, they had flourished.

          “For the announcement that we are to make?” Francis asked from his seat beside his wife, Annabelle, on the settee.

          “Well, for that as well, yes. However, I meant that I am simply not ready for them to be moving out into society in just a few short years. I feel like we have not gotten nearly enough time with them yet. There is still so much that I wish to share with them… teach them…”

          “You have years yet, my love, you should not worry yourself so much.” He focused on the small concert that was being put on for them. The sisters had made remarkable progress since they had incorporated music tutors into their education last fall.

          Annabelle nodded. “I know. It is just… seeing them like this, in this light, it is so difficult to not think of the next steps when they appear so mature.”

          “Lilly was out catching frogs before breakfast,” Francis reminded her in a dry tone of voice. “She is not so changed. At least when she thinks that nobody is watching her.”

          “I cannot even begin to imagine the sort of strong-minded gentleman that it will take in order to sway either one of them. They are so independent. You have done a lovely job of raising them in such a way that they know their own minds and are not afraid to speak when they need to. They will never have to endure the things that I was forced to endure for the sake of propriety or reputation. It is a far more valuable gift than they will fully understand at their young ages.”

          Francis’ hand dropped from Annabelle’s shoulder to her upper arm where he started to rub his fingertips over her skin in soft, nonsensical shapes. She loved it when he did that.

          The music came to an end and the girls both rose gracefully from their seats and curtsied respectfully, waiting eagerly for feedback. Annabelle, too, rose to her feet and started to clap happily for her daughters at the same time that Francis did, rising from his chair a touch more slowly than she had herself.

          “Marvelous, simply marvelous. I never had even the smallest shred of musical talents and because of it, I am in awe of your skills,” Francis commended them.

          Even to this day, they seemed to shine more brightly when Francis favored them. Their worship and idolization of the man had only amplified tenfold when he officially became their father. The three of them still chose to avoid the subject of the late Duke as often as possible. Francis never seemed to enjoy speaking about him more than he was forced to, though deep down, he had forgiven the man, and Annabelle knew that it was something he would rather remain private about for now. Whether the girls knew something or spoke to him about something concerning him… it stayed between the three of them.

          “Thank you!” Lilly exclaimed. “We should go and see if there are any more lemon cakes as a reward for having such a great performance, do you not agree?”

          “Well, before you run off — there is something that Francis and I wish to share with you… if you can spare us just a moment?” Annabelle grinned.

          Quickly, the twins both took a seat close to them and listened with rapt attention. “Of course, anything.”

          “Well… I know that you both have gotten very comfortable in your ways but… we have very happy news. It shall be an adjustment, of course, and I should never wish to influence your feelings, because of course you are allowed to feel any sort of way about things that you would like… however…”

          Penny reached forward and placed her hand on top of Annabelle’s. “Whatever you wish to share with us, I promise you that we will be happy for you.”

          “We are with child,” Francis blurted, unable to wait another moment.

          Annabelle’s hands dropped to cup the soft swell of her belly. They had waited a long time to make the announcement, they had wished to be sure that she was going to have a child before telling the girls who had been so accustomed to their ‘single child’ lifestyle.

          “I may need your help a lot in the upcoming months,” Annabelle continued, waiting for their reactions. For a moment the twins stayed seated in their stunned silence, not sure what to make of the news being presented to them — but their Cheshire smiles spread slowly across their features until it appeared that it might consume them. Penny moved first to embrace Annabelle, and stopped herself a moment later, afraid she might harm the child somehow.

          “Oh! Apologies! Of course we will help you in any way that you need! This is wonderful news! We will finally have a younger brother or sister! We will have someone to pass down all of our pranks and knowledge to!” Penny teased, nudging Lilly as she made her point.

          Annabelle’s head fell back as she laughed in relief. She never should have doubted the girls in the first place. Theirs was a family so full of love and understanding that one more would only cause that love to grow. She took Francis’ hand in her own and let her head fall onto his shoulder. She could never stop counting her blessings — for she was truly blessed. She had been given everything that she had ever wanted and then some.

          “Though, we do have a favor to ask,” Lilly giggled conspiratorially.

          “Yes,” Penny agreed.

          Annabelle and Francis exchanged amused glances with one another before they finally spoke up in unison. “What is it this time?”