Second Epilogue
At the Fairmont Ball
Once upon a time, making merry hadn’t come easily for the Earl of Acton. Everett had once lived a proper life of propriety and duty. Thankfully those dull, dreary days were long gone.
He sipped champagne slowly, casting an admiring glance over the lovely ladies who glided past his spot—certain he was where he was meant to be.
Those who’d come to enjoy the midsummer ball on the grounds of the Fairmont estate were having a marvelous time yet again.
Within the manor behind him had been the usual gathering of mystics and fortune-tellers, selling hopes and dreams, determined to predict anyone’s future in exchange for coin. He’d pressed through their number without partaking or being taken for a fool. He did not need a fortune-teller to determine what his future path would bring into his life. His happiness was already assured.
Everett had come to this unholy revel in pursuit of his eccentric bride-to-be, but had not yet captured her. She was a wily one, for all the softness of her heart.
He would take a bride with a fortune tomorrow and live happily ever after.
But not quietly, he suspected.
His intended bride, Miss Whitney Crewe, was somewhere about the place, basking in one last night of spinsterish freedom, she’d teased, while in the next breath inviting him to come and be wicked with her.
He could barely hide his excitement, for this was the place they had first met, where he’d lost his heart to a beautiful and maddening creature who had lightened his soul with her nonsense and love.
A flash of long bright red hair caught his eye at the edge of the darkness, and he wasted no time in setting off in pursuit. Whitney liked him to chase her about, but was always willing to be captured if he delivered kisses when he did.
Whitney wore gypsy garb again—with silk caressing the curves he adored and gems glittering on every finger under the torchlights as she spun about. Even her thumbs sparkled with gold bands, treasures of the family she had once, long ago. But among them now were two additional rings—one that had belonged to his family for generations, and another that was new from him alone.
She lifted her skirts a little as she danced with careless abandon, revealing slender calves and bare feet gliding upon the neatly trimmed lawns.
He drew closer, beguiled by the way she moved with unhindered sensuality and confidence.
He wasn’t the only man who noticed her, either, and he was very glad he’d already staked his claim. She always drew a crowd of admirers, handsome gentlemen, and even ladies flocked to her. People stared, smiled at her transparent energy, and made a game of trying to copy her movements with varying degrees of success.
Everett was as entranced as he’d always been, and found a spot to watch as she grabbed a lady by the hand, swinging her into her dance. They laughed in giddy joy, and soon the entire crowd was swaying along with her.
That was Whitney’s gift. She made everyone fall in love, but none more than him.
Whitney suddenly held out her hand to him, as she’d done that first night, fingers wriggling in invitation. The gems winked and he swayed forward, helplessly spellbound still.
Redheads were his weakness, but only this particular one had brought him to his knees.
He took her bare fingers in his and raised them to his lips to kiss them all. “Enjoying yourself, darling?”
“I am now,” she promised, sliding into his arms as she always did.
Her body was soft and warm under his palms, and he didn’t ever want to let her go. “Are you thirsty yet?”
She nodded, and led the way inside by taking his hand. He admired her hips gently swaying under her gown, and then requested punch for both of them.
She drained her glass quickly. “Why did you not join me in dancing?”
He requested another beverage for his lady. “I had something on my mind.”
Her smile widened and her eyes glowed with delight. “You are too adorable, my lord. Did you not read your invitation? Guests were supposed to leave their cares at the door.”
“Life cannot be all fun and games.” He grinned. “Sometimes we must be serious.”
“You did enough of that before,” she insisted as she set her glass aside. “A little fun never hurt you.”
He pulled her close. “Do you think so?”
“I know so. Come, I want to show you something.” Whitney caught his hand and pulled him across the room and into a familiar long gallery. Holding his hand firmly, she ignored the paintings of their hosts’ ancestors this time and marched him toward an adjoining room they were both quite familiar with.
The door closed with a resounding snap that sent a shiver over his skin. “I think you’ve lured unwary gentlemen to this room before.”
“Perhaps I have. Only once, though, and I’m sorry to say I left him in an unforgivable condition last time.” She threw aside her shawl. “I stole the poor fellow’s breeches, too.”
“He has forgiven you for that. A long time ago,” he promised. Everett grunted as Whitney pressed against him.
“Do I have to I remind you this is a bachelors ball and indiscretions are expected? You’re a bachelor, and I’m a willing and amorous spinster.”
“But I am an engaged man, about to marry an eccentric heiress,” he warned her.
“A devoted heiress,” Whitney corrected him, as she unbuttoned the fall of his breeches. “Now where did I stop the last time I had you here?”
He looked down at himself. “I had less clothing on, I believe.”
“Hmm, I think that can be arranged.” Whitney made short work of stripping him off until their appearances matched the very night they met, and the precise moment they parted company. “What would have happened next?”
“You had me in hand,” he whispered, and moaned as she reenacted the events of that night in exquisite detail. “I wanted to kiss you but you refused me.”
“Not tonight,” she whispered, lifting her eyes from the cock she stroked. “Tonight I am feeling very romantic toward you.”
Her eyes twinkled with mirth as she squeezed him a little harder.
“Such a relief,” he whispered as he lowered his lips to claim hers. They had of course kissed many times since he’d proposed. There was no reason not to, since his intentions were honorable and hers always urgent. The journey home to England had been very pleasant and very satisfying for both of them.
He turned Whitney against the nearby wall and hitched her skirts above her knees, even as he pressed his hips against hers.
Whitney smoothed her hands over his shoulders and then stared at his face. “Has anyone every told you that you are a very pretty fellow?”
“Yes, you,” he said, feeling his cheeks heat with embarrassment. “Every time we make love. Every morning I woke up in your bunk aboard ship to find you drawing me again.”
“I never get tired of sketching you.” Her lips curved into a broad smile, and she brushed her fingers across his cheek. She held his face, studying him. “I am so glad we found each other.”
He crushed her lips under his.
When they parted, he was panting.
“Can I have you?” she asked, rather than demand, as she’d done the night they’d first met. “Here. Now.”
He was no longer surprised by her forthright desire. What could it hurt this one last time to taste temptation before he became a properly devoted husband, anyway? “For tonight and then forever?”
She nodded quickly, and he positioned himself to claim her. He had become adept at reading Whitney’s moods. She was often impatient to be with him, and tonight seemed no different. As he slid inside her tight little body, she let out an alarmingly loud moan that suggested she was very far gone in lust already. He drew back and returned to her, burying himself to the hilt.
“Oh, that feels so good,” she promised. “I missed you.”
They had made love a few days ago, in the carriage as they traveled directly to London after leaving the ship. He had gone to see about a special license as soon as he had deposited her at her cousin’s home. “Wait for me, my love.”
“For you?” She met his stare through eyes gone hazy with lust as she writhed against him and tangled her fingers in his hair. “If I can, but I may disappoint you.”
He pinned her hands to the wall and let go of any hesitation. Whitney took everything he gave and more, but soon she began to thrash and cry out his name. She tightened around him provocatively until he was in serious danger of losing control entirely.
“Darling, you never have disappointed me, and never could. That’s why I’m yours forever,” he managed to say, just as he gave up the fight.
Loving Whitney was all he wanted, all he needed, for the rest of his life.
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Heather