Chapter Twenty-seven

Afterward, when they lay snuggled together and wrapped in plush toweling while snacking on grapes from their leftover meal, Thane felt his wife look up at him. He smiled. “Spit it out,” he said. “I can see those wheels in your brain turning like frantic little cogs.”

“You said you didn’t want children.”

“I thought I didn’t.”

Forehead creased, she pinned her lip between her teeth. “So what changed?”

Thane felt all his old fears rise up into his throat, and he drew a deep breath. Astrid loved him. His courageous wife wouldn’t turn tail and run. Either way, he already decided he wanted no secrets between them, and she had already trusted him with all of hers.

“I did, I suppose. I was so afraid of the future—any future—that I couldn’t appreciate the present and what I had in front of me. I was letting fear defeat me.”

She lifted up slightly to kiss him. “Love can be scary, too. Opening yourself up and being vulnerable to another person is frightening in itself. I’d locked my heart away for a long time, and until you, I didn’t know that I could trust anyone with it. It still terrifies me, knowing that it’s in the keeping of someone else.” She pursed her lips. “Are you still afraid?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes.”

Astrid wrapped her legs and arms around him. “Then, I shall have no choice but to surround you with as much love and passion and happiness as possible. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re so fierce,” he said, kissing her. “Have I told you how much I love that about you? Duchess of the indomitable spirit.”

“I aim to please my duke.” She nibbled his lower lip and drew his tongue into her mouth, feeling his length surge against her thigh. “That feels promising.”

“You are insatiable.”

She licked a hot path on his shoulder and bit gently. “For you.”

Thane turned them on the chaise and draped his body over hers. “You really think we have a chance?”

His wild, beautiful, sassy duchess winked. “Does a fish have gills?”

…

Many hours later, satiated and replete, long after Thane had carried them both to his bedchamber, Astrid propped herself up onto her elbows, watching her husband sleep as the morning sun washed over the sky. His sensuous mouth was parted, his thick, dark eyelashes with their gilded tips resting against the top of his cheeks. Silky sable hair curled into his face, one muscled arm tucked under his head. He looked too delicious for words.

He had loved her until her body felt weightless, until words had ceased to matter, and until conscious thought lost any meaning.

“Sleep, sweet prince,” she whispered.

Climbing out of bed as carefully as possible, she padded to her chamber and dressed in a front-fastening morning dress. She washed herself and cleaned her teeth with the water in the basin. Her hair was a mess, and without Alice, there was little she could do besides pin it into a loose knot before heading downstairs. The breakfast room was already set, and she met Fletcher in the hallway.

“Top of the morning to you, Your Grace,” he said in an entirely too jovial voice with a smart bow.

Astrid blushed. It seemed that there were no secrets at Beswick Park. If the duke and his duchess spent all night frolicking in the bathing pool, it would be common knowledge by morning.

“Good morning, Fletcher.”

“And might I inquire if His Grace is still abed?”

Her blush intensified. “You know he is, you dreadful man. Now, will you fetch me some coffee before I expire?”

“Certainly, Your Grace,” he said with an irrepressible grin. “Oh, and her ladyship is already at breakfast.”

Astrid’s brows rose. Mabel had returned to Beswick Park as well? Sure enough, she was ensconced at the table being served by not one but three footmen. One of whom Astrid distinctly remembered being at the Hammerton ball, particularly because he wore different livery.

“Good morning, Aunt.”

“Ah, my beautiful, brave girl. You look wonderfully rested. And by rested I mean ravished.”

“Did you return last night?” Astrid grinned, accepting a steaming cup of coffee from Fletcher.

Mabel winked. “I only just returned.” Her amber eyes flicked to Lady Hammerton’s footman, and her voice lowered to a whisper. “Honestly, it’s a wonder I can walk.”

“Aunt Mabel!”

“You should be one to talk,” she said. “Fletcher filled me in. Hopefully it won’t be long before this place is filled with lots of little grandbabies for an old lady to dote upon.”

“Old lady, my behind,” Astrid said with a laugh, struggling to hide the blushes that would not relent. She selected a bit of toast and then turned to the duchess.

Her eyes warmed. “You love him, then?”

“Desperately.”

“Then, we can only hope.” She reached for Astrid’s hand and held it tightly, and Astrid fought the sudden burn of tears behind her eyes. She squeezed back.

“There are my two favorite ladies.”

The warm, husky voice sank into her very bones, and Astrid turned to see her husband, fine and still delicious, standing in the doorway. He was dressed in a shirt and breeches with no shoes and no cravat, and he looked utterly mussed and delectable.

“Honestly, Beswick,” Mabel teased. “You’d think I’ve raised a barbarian.”

“There are worse things,” he said, bending to peck her cheek and then kissing Astrid with a more lingering kiss before sitting beside her.

“Did you sleep well, nephew?”

“As well as you, I imagine. I see we’ve acquired new help.” He grinned, flexing an arm across the back of Astrid’s chair and making every hair on her body stand on end as his fingers caressed her nape.

“He rode me home,” she said and then widened her eyes in all innocence. “Drove me home.”

“This is unseemly, Aunt, even for you.” Thane rolled his eyes and looked at Astrid. “I told you: terrible influence.” He nuzzled her ear. “Did you sleep well?”

“Thane,” she gasped, feeling the wet swipe of his tongue. “The servants.”

“They all know that the duke is mad over his wife, so whether I kiss you here or behind closed doors is of little significance.” He bit her lobe and relented, leaning back into his chair.

Good Lord but the man was sex incarnate. They’d made love for hours, and already, she was ready to race back upstairs and have her wanton way with him. Instead, she demurely sipped her coffee and avoided Mabel’s knowing looks.

Fletcher entered the door, once more doing double duty in Culbert’s absence, and announced they had callers.

The duke frowned. “This early? Tell them to come back at a reasonable hour.”

“Who is it?” Astrid asked at the same time.

“The Marquess and Marchioness of Roth.”

None of them was dressed for callers, including a shoeless, cravat-less duke, but they were family, after all.

“Isobel!” Astrid exclaimed as her sister entered the dining room on her new husband’s arm. “How are you?”

“I’m well,” her sister said. “Astrid, may I present my husband, Lord Roth.”

He bowed over her hand. “Your Grace.”

Thane stood up, clapping the younger man on the shoulder. “Good to see you, Roth.”

“And you, Beswick,” the marquess said. “Although good is rather an exaggeration.”

The duke barked a short laugh, but Astrid blinked at the man’s slightly dry tone. Her gaze panned back to Isobel, who shot her a bright smile. Though her sister was in high spirits, her marquess seemed a bit more…taciturn. Then again, Astrid had only just met him. Thane knew him, however, and he’d assured her that Roth was a decent man at the heart of it. Astrid smiled to herself. She was one to talk—she had married a beast, after all.

They exchanged greetings with Mabel, and then Thane invited the newlyweds to join them for breakfast. More hot dishes were brought in and additional place settings arranged. Her sister’s obvious regard for her husband was evident, and Astrid felt sad that she’d missed the wedding, but it was a small price to pay for Isobel’s safety.

“So, about this marriage,” Astrid said. “I, apparently, was the only one in the dark.”

“Sorry about that,” Isobel said. “I was waiting to see whether Lord Roth would make his intentions known at Lady Hammerton’s house party, and he did. However, my plan was a little less thought out. I was hoping to convince him to elope.”

Astrid lifted a brow. “That would have indeed been a scandal.”

“But Scotland is days away by coach, and Lady Hammerton had a better idea. After the Earl of Beaumont showed up, the duke was able to procure a special license for us,” Isobel finished excitedly. “My only regret is that you were not able to be there, Astrid, but it was very small and tasteful in Lady Hammerton’s family chapel.”

“I am simply glad that you’re happy, Izzy.”

“I am,” Isobel said.

Astrid could not be upset with her sister for so bravely taking hold of her own future. It was more than she had done at that age—when she had naively found herself at the mercy of an unscrupulous man. Isobel, however, had not allowed herself to become entrapped by a society whose rules bestowed all the power to men while women bore the consequences. Astrid could not be prouder of her.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing, indeed.

The newly married couple visited for a while before taking their leave. Roth was taking his bride to his family seat in Chelmsford. After they departed, Astrid turned to her husband with a mock pout. “I cannot believe you kept such a monumental secret from me.”

He took her hand and kissed her knuckles, the light graze and the desirous look in his eyes making her skin burn. “If your uncle came to Harte House demanding an explanation, I wanted you to have full deniability. As it was, we did have words.”

Astrid’s eyes narrowed at the thought of her uncle. “What did he say?”

“He was reasonable.”

“Reasonable” wasn’t a word to describe her uncle, and she knew her skeptical expression said so.

“I offered him what Beaumont had agreed to give him,” her husband said.

“Why would you even give that bounder any money after everything he’s done?” Astrid asked. “He’ll only lose it all. He bought a fortune in horseflesh with my father’s money.”

“I also took possession of those horses at a fraction of the cost and had them sent here to Beswick Park,” he said with a grin. “Your groom, Patrick, was kind enough to lead the transaction. That was the business I had to conclude.”

Astrid didn’t care that they were in the middle of the foyer in view of a dozen servants and Aunt Mabel in the next room—she flung her arms around her husband’s neck. “Oh, Thane, I love you.”

“Not as much as I love you, Duchess.” He smiled down at her. “And speaking of Beaumont, I suspect that after the investigation of what happened in Spain is completed, the earl will most likely be stripped of his title and estate.”

“I’m glad,” Astrid said feelingly. “He will get his just deserts.”

Thane nodded. It would not bring back the lives of his men, but it was a start. If the earl was found guilty, he intended to ask the Regent for a portion of the earl’s confiscated fortune to be used for the deceased men’s families. It was less than they deserved but more than he’d hoped for.

“Now that we’ve had breakfast, what would you like to do today?” She bit her bottom lip and blushed.

His laugh was husky. “I suppose we could do that.”

He scooped her into his wonderfully muscular arms.

“I am capable of walking,” she told him.

“Yes, but my legs are much longer.”

She laughed as he flew up the stairs. “I knew I married you for a reason.”