Page 77 of A Bride for the Devilish Duke

She turned her head and kissed him, soft and slow and full of promise.

“And you,” she breathed, “are mine.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Emma watched the patterns of shifting sunlight on the woodland floor as the branches above wavered in the breeze. Her head lay upon her husband's chest.

My husband, in truth now, as well as name. Mine.

She smiled at the memory of what they had shared together. At the memory of the pleasure he had brought to her and she to him. For the first time since the fateful night when her innocence had almost been taken from her, she did not feel ashamed. Did not feel that she needed to hide herself away. Her body lay in the soft grass, naked next to that of Damien, and she gloried in it. His hand gently stroked her back, tracing a path along her spine.

“I did not intend for this to happen, but I am glad that it did,” Damien whispered.

“As am I. Is this the end of our marriage of convenience nonsense?”

“I think so.”

It was a reply that filled Emma with warmth.

“I am glad that I was finally able to bring you to your senses,” she said with a smile.

“Senses? I have always been in my right mind in this. It was a most careful plan we hatched,” Damien murmured.

“We?”

Emma lifted her head to look at him.

“My confidante and manservant, Wilkins,” Damien replied quickly.

“Oh. To marry in order to gain respectability among the ton?”

“Not exactly. That was merely another means to the end I wanted. You see, my father did not believe that he had an heir worthy of him. He entrusted the final decision on his successor to the Regent. In effect, he became Regent of the Fitzgerald house as well as the country. I had to prove to him that I could marry well and uphold my father's legacy.”

“Or he would take away your Dukedom?” Emma asked, disbelieving, “Surely that cannot happen.”

“It can when the title has perpetually been in dispute. My father was challenged for his title by his brother, a twin who maintained that he was the elder. King George settled that in favor of my father. I faced the same challenge from Jacob, the elder of Henry Fitzgerald's sons. My father had foreseen it and spoken to the Regent before he died. If I could not prove myself to the Regent, he would rule in Jacob's favor.”

“Isee,” Emma said, thoughtfully. “So marrying me was to protect your birthright. I thought it was simply your reputation. I see the stakes were much higher.”

“Muchhigher.”

“But now resolved. The Regent seemed impressed with me, did he not? We have attended his ball and the Queen's Garden Party. We will attend Ascot in a couple of weeks.”

Damien turned to face her, and the pressure of his body against hers sent a thrill through her. His leg slipped between hers, his thigh pushing up until it pressed against her womanhood. His hand cupped her hips.

“Yes, you did. A most excellent job. I am both proud and impressed.”

“I feel your pride in me,” Emma said with a catch in her voice.

His pride was an inexorable and growing pressure against her, pressed between their bodies.

“Emma! Emma!” came Rosie's voice distantly.

Distant, but not distant enough.

“We are missed,” Damien murmured.

“We are married. We do not require chaperones.”