Page 72 of Married to a Wicked Duke
Two weeks later, visitors were still flocking to the gallery in great numbers.
Veronica looked upwards as a pair of sparrows darted through the thick canopy of trees. The leaves were beginning to turn now, flooding the garden with vibrant reds and golds. “This place truly is magical,” she sighed happily. She tried to commit the image to memory. It would make a fine piece to add to her collection.
“It is magical.” Frederick brought her gloved fingers to his lips and kissed them gently. “Your paintings have immortalized it. Now everyone will have the chance to experience and enjoy the place.” He smiled crookedly. “Withoutactuallyvisiting, of course. Because I cannot tell you how much more pleasant this place is when we have it all to ourselves.” He stopped walking and pulled her close. Drew her into a deep kiss.
Veronica laughed, lacing her fingers through his again. “Somuch more pleasant,” she agreed. “And I think we both deserve a little peace and quiet after all our hard work. I, for one, could certainly use a rest.”
“A rest, hmm?” Frederick’s lips worked their way along Veronica’s neck. “That’s a damn shame. I had a few other things in mind.”
“Oh yes?” Veronica’s hand slipped beneath his greatcoat, feeling her way up his chest. “And what might that be?”
Frederick found her lips again. “Better if I show you, rather than just tell you.” He grinned. “Much more effective that way.” He took her hand and led her toward the house. “Now,” he said as they walked hand in hand up the staircase, “for future reference, my bedchamber is the door on theleftof the staircase.” His eyes shone teasingly. “I know you sometimes struggle to remember.”
“Oh, I did not struggle to remember anything,” said Veronica airily. “I went in the door on the left because that is exactly where my grandmother told me to go. At first, I thought I had made a mistake. But I know now that I ended up in your bedchamber because Grandmother led me straight to it.”
Frederick began to laugh, slow and deep, his gray eyes alight with warmth. “That sly old thing.” He scooped Veronica into his arms and carried her into the room. “Remind me to thank her profusely next time I see her.”
He set her down gently at the foot of the bed. One of the maids had already lit the fire, and there was a fragrant warmth to the room. Late afternoon light was pouring through the window, and as the sun slid toward the horizon, it set to life a wild chorus of birdsong. Veronica closed her eyes for a moment, drinking in the perfection of the moment.
Slowly, tenderly, Frederick began to unbutton her dress, unlace her corset. “Veronica,” he murmured, “you make me so happy. Happier than I ever imagined I could be.”
Her heart swelled as she pulled his shirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of their clothing. “You make me so happy too. You have given me everything I ever wanted.”
Frederick ran his finger across her cheek. “There was a young girl I met once,” he said, “who smiled like this. Bright like the sun. I cannot remember her name. But I will never forget her smile.”
Veronica stepped close to look deep into her husband’s eyes. “And she will never forget his. Nor will she forget his kindness.”
Frederick let out his breath, shaking his head in disbelief as the realization hit him. “There was a part of me that wondered…” he admitted. “From the moment I first saw your smile, I thought of that little girl… But it seemed too impossible.”
Veronica kissed him gently. She slid her shift up over her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. “Unlikely, perhaps. But not impossible.”
Frederick traced light fingers over the curve of her shoulder. “Have you always known?” he asked. He bent to kiss the soft skin at the base of her neck.
Veronica shook her head. “It’s true that I have never forgotten the boy who came to me in the garden that day, and the kindness he showed me. But it was not until we were alone in the cellar at the gallery that I really began to wonder.” She stroked the fine stubble on his cheek. “That day, you showed me just how kind and loving you really were. And it made me think of that boy who was so kind to me that day. The boy who made me smile when no one else could.”
“I will show you that kindness until the end of your days,” Frederick said huskily. “If you will let me.”
Veronica pressed a gentle hand to her husband’s chest, easing him toward the bed. He pulled her down onto the mattress with him and kissed her deeply. Veronica crawled over him, straddling his hips and looking down to admire him in the golden threads of sunlight. In his face, he saw that young boy he had once been. That tall, thin boy with the white-blond hair and the kind gray eyes.
Strangely, the realization that she had married that boy had not come as a surprise. Instead, it had felt like a piece of a puzzle falling into place. She had felt as though a part of her had always known who Frederick was—and had always known they were destined to be together.
“That day when we were children,” said Veronica, “you told me never to stop smiling. How could I do otherwise when I am to spend the rest of my life with you?”
The End?