Page 50 of A Spinster for the Rakish Duke

When she felt him finally release, it was enough to make her leap into the pool of pleasure herself, causing her to move forward and hug him tightly as they reached that moment together, holding one another in a lover’s embrace that meant so much to them.

That was how they fell asleep the first night of their honeymoon, embracing one another in a house built around their love and in a bed christened by it.

“Just a little farther, my love. We can take a break at this ridge,” Emma called down the hillside to her husband.

Donovan smiled up at her, utterly breathless for more than one reason. Donovan was far from an unathletic specimen, strong and fit and capable of demonstrating it. Yet, he was astounded at how much energy her excitement and enthusiasm had given her. She was a full two dozen paces ahead of him. She had taken that he was behind her as a sign that he was tired, which wasn’t the case. He was simply unable to match her pace on the rocky slopes.

Breakfast was simple, with lots of toast and jam accompanied by tea. They were limited by the size of the kitchen, if it could be called that, but cooking was not the appeal of the place. The appeal was when they headed out later towards Skiddaw. The walk to the base was just down the road, and after that it was a simple matter of assessing and ascending the right slopes to progress.

Skiddaw was far from a steep peak, but its height still made it a daunting task for the inexperienced climber, and neither the Duke nor Duchess had the experience they would like. They would have to practice, and Skiddaw was as good a place to start as any other. They persevered and found themselves on a drop-off two-thirds up the mountain. Past this point, the slopes grew steeper and not something that could be easily done on foot, but that was fine. Their goal was not to conquer the mountain but to simply exist with it. They were satisfied where they were.

Not to mention that Donovan had hauled up a light picnic for them to enjoy, and carrying the basket would make it a might bit more difficult to make it up the sheer rock faces. Better to enjoy the meal where it was safe to sit.

Emma stood at the edge, admiring the grand view of the countryside, taking in deep breaths of the chilled air. Donovan stood behind her, hand placed on the small of her back. They stood together and saw the world beneath them. He had just finished laying out the blanket and basket for them and had come to summon his wife, but instead, he found himself absorbed in the wide quiet land.

“It's so small,” she whispered.

“It does give you a sense of your place in all of it, doesn’t it?” Donovan mused.

“It does,” Emma agreed. “It's the same reason I like geology.”

“Is that so?” Donovan asked.

“Yes. Consider a person. We live for about fifty years, give or take. But the rock formations, the mountains, and even the stones can take hundreds of years to form. In the time it takes three generations of family to come into existence, a single pebble could be born. Considering that gives me the same feeling of smallness that the view does here,” Emma explained.

“I never considered that,” Donovan said wistfully. “I am an admirer of geology as well, but I never thought of putting it into such a scale.”

“What is it that draws you to it?” Emma asked.

“The scale, to be sure, but in a more literal sense. To see the mountains towering over England fills me with awe. And to hear tales of even greater peaks out there. To know that the world is composed of such mighty things. I find that it invigorating to the spirit; what can I say?” Donovan admitted.

“So, you love the earth for its place, and I for its time then?” Emma mused.

“I suppose that's true,” Donovan agreed.

“Does that say something about us?” Emma asked with a dry tone.

“It just might.” he said thoughtfully.

Emma laughed at that comment prompting Donovan to give her a questioning look. “It’s nothing, my dear husband; you are just cute.”

“Cute enough to kiss?” he asked playfully while hugging her from behind.

“More than cute enough for that,'' she replied.

And they shared a kiss on the mountain together as the breeze swept over them. Memory is a liquid thing. It flows and ebbs, changes, and changes the world that it moves through. But this memory, this kiss, would remain in both of their minds for as long as they lived, which was a very long time, happy and together.

The End?