Page 40 of Wedded to the Duke of Seduction (Dukes of Passion #3)
EPILOGUE
FIVE MONTHS LATER
T he late summer sun bathed Blackmere Hall in golden light, transforming the ancient stone into something warm and welcoming. Five months had passed since the night at the abandoned theater, and Marina stood at the terrace overlooking the extensive gardens where their guests now gathered.
Children’s laughter drifted up from the lawn where Charlotte, Dorian and Alice’s daughter, toddled after a butterfly while Diana, Gerard and Seraphina’s little girl, watched from her mother’s lap with wide-eyed fascination.
“It suits you, you know,” Leo said, appearing at Marina’s side. “Blackmere.”
“It’s beginning to feel like home,” Marina agreed, leaning into him as his arm slipped around her waist.
“Only beginning?” Leo arched an eyebrow, his lips quirking with amusement. “I must try harder, then. Perhaps another library? Or a private printing press?”
Marina laughed, turning in his embrace to face him. “You’ve done quite enough already. The writing room overlooking the rose garden is perfect.”
“Speaking of your writing,” Caroline called as she climbed the terrace steps, Harold following behind her. “The latest Captain Westmore story has left half the ladies in London breathless with anticipation. When can we expect the next installment?”
“Within the month,” Marina replied, accepting her friend’s warm embrace. “Though my editor is being demanding about this one.”
“As he should be,” Leo said, not bothering to hide his pride. “Your new publishing house is making quite the splash in literary circles.”
“Mariner Press,” Harold nodded approvingly. “A clever name, combining your own with the seafaring theme of your stories.”
“It was Leo’s suggestion,” Marina admitted. “He thought a nautical reference would suit my sea captain tales while maintaining my anonymity.”
Caroline squeezed her friend’s hand. “I still can’t believe you’ve kept your identity secret through everything.”
“Lupton and Giles have been remarkably silent on the matter,” Leo remarked dryly. “Though regular payments to ensure their ongoing discretion have certainly helped.”
“As has the threat of your displeasure,” Noah added as he strolled up, glass in hand. “Last I heard, Lupton had retired to Bath, claiming the London air no longer agreed with his constitution.”
“How convenient for him,” Marina said, exchanging a knowing glance with Leo.
“And what of your other trouble?” Caroline asked in a lower voice. “Has there been any word from France?”
Leo shook his head. “Felicity remains confined to her family’s estate near Lyon, where, by all accounts, she is languishing in utter boredom. My contacts report that the provincial society has proven wholly unimpressed by her airs, and her attempts to secure the attentions of a certain wealthy widower—who, incidentally, has no children to be swayed—have met with little success.”
“At least this widower has some sense to stay away from her,” William’s quiet voice surprised them as he joined the group, keeping a slight distance as was his habit these days.
Though welcomed by Leo and treated with kindness by Marina, guilt still shadowed his features whenever he spoke of Felicity.
Leo’s hand found his brother’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “How are the plans for your trip to America progressing?”
William’s expression brightened slightly. “The arrangements are nearly complete. I leave next month to oversee our new shipping ventures in Boston.”
“You’ll be missed,” Marina said sincerely.
In spite of his part in her abduction, these past months had allowed her to see William’s true regret, his attempts at reconciliation, and his understanding of Felicity’s manipulative actions.
“I won’t be gone forever,” William assured her. “Just long enough to establish the new offices and perhaps… find some purpose beyond atoning for my mistakes.”
“To new beginnings,” Noah proposed, raising his glass. “And to the host and hostess who have brought us all together.”
The others echoed the sentiment, their glasses catching the late afternoon sun as they gathered closer in a moment of genuine companionship.
“Speaking of new beginnings,” Leo said after a moment, his eyes meeting Marina’s with a question. She nodded almost imperceptibly, and his smile widened. “Marina and I have an announcement to make.”
The group fell silent, anticipation evident on their faces.
“We’re expecting a child,” Leo said, his voice rich with barely contained joy. “In early spring.”
Exclamations of delight erupted around them. Caroline embraced Marina again, this time with tears in her eyes.
Seraphina and Alice, who had joined them just in time to hear the news, added their congratulations.
The men slapped Leo on the back, their faces reflecting genuine happiness.
“A toast to the heir of Blackmere,” Noah proclaimed, always first to fill the silence. “May he, or she, inherit Marina’s talent and Leo’s fortune, rather than the reverse.”
Laughter rippled through the group at Noah’s characteristic irreverence.
“Careful, man,” Leo warned good-naturedly. “Or I’ll tell everyone about that incident with the ambassador’s daughter in Vienna.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Noah gasped in mock horror.
“Try me,” Leo challenged, his eyes dancing with mischief.
As their guests dissolved into playful banter, Marina slipped her hand into Leo’s, giving it a gentle squeeze. The simple gesture conveyed volumes between them—gratitude for this moment, for these friends who had become family, for the child growing beneath her heart.
That evening, after a dinner filled with laughter and shared stories, Marina retreated to their chambers ahead of Leo, who remained behind to share a final brandy with the gentlemen. The day’s excitement had left her pleasantly exhausted, her hand often straying to her still-flat stomach where their child grew.
She was brushing her hair at the dressing table when Leo entered, quietly closing the door behind him.
Their eyes met in the mirror, his dark with an intensity that still made her breath catch, even after months of marriage.
“Happy?” he asked, moving to stand behind her.
“Completely,” Marina replied, setting down her brush as Leo bent to press his lips to the curve of her neck. “And you?”
“Beyond words.” His hands settled on her shoulders, his thumbs caressing the sensitive skin where her nightgown left her collarbones exposed. “Thought I might demonstrate the extent of my happiness.”
Marina turned on her stool to face him, her hands reaching for the buttons of his waistcoat. “I believe a demonstration would be most welcome.”
Leo caught her hands, bringing them to his lips. One by one, he kissed her fingertips, his eyes never leaving hers.
“I never imagined this,” he confessed softly. “A wife I adore, a child on the way, my brother returned to us. Sometimes I fear I’ll wake and find it all a dream.”
“Not a dream,” Marina assured him, rising to press herself against him. “Though perhaps a story with a better ending than either of us dared write.”
Leo smiled against her lips as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to their bed. “A story still being written, my love. And this chapter promises to be memorable.”
Marina’s laughter turned to a soft gasp as Leo laid her among the pillows and followed her down, his body covering hers with familiar weight. His hands moved with deliberate slowness as he traced the curves he knew intimately over their months together.
“You,” he murmured, working at the ribbons of her nightgown. “are mine. All mine to devour.”
Marina arched into his touch as he parted the fabric, exposing her skin to the cool night air and his heated gaze. Pregnancy had made her more sensitive, more responsive, and Leo had delighted in discovering the subtle changes in her body.
“Leo,” she breathed as his mouth followed the path his hands had blazed, her fingers tangling in his hair.
“My Marina,” he whispered against her skin, moving lower to press reverent kisses across her still-flat abdomen. “My wife. My duchess. My love.”
The tenderness in his voice undid her more thoroughly than any passionate declaration. Marina pulled him up to claim his mouth, her kiss conveying everything words could not.
“My wife,” he whispered, his voice filled with wonder. “The mother of my child.”
Marina reached up to touch his face, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw with tenderness.
“Our child,” she corrected softly.
Leo lowered his head to kiss her, his lips gentle against hers. There was no rush now, no desperate need to claim or possess. This was a celebration, a communion of souls who had found their way to each other despite every obstacle.
His fingers moved to the ribbons of her nightgown, untying them with careful patience. As the fabric parted, he brushed it aside, exposing her skin to his gaze. His hand hovered over her stomach, hesitating.
“May I?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion.
Marina nodded, covering his hand with hers and guiding it to rest against her belly. Leo’s eyes glistened as he spread his fingers wide, as if trying to protect both mother and child with his touch.
“Our baby is in there,” he murmured in awe. “A miracle.”
He lowered his head to press his lips to her stomach in a gesture of such reverence that tears formed in Marina’s eyes. Leo’s kisses traveled upward, slow and worshipful, leaving a trail of warmth across her body. He paused at her breasts, now more sensitive with her pregnancy, and touched them with exquisite gentleness.
Marina helped him remove his shirt, her hands exploring the familiar contours of his chest and shoulders. Every touch was unhurried, a silent promise of devotion. When Leo slid her nightgown from her shoulders completely, he did so with care, his eyes never leaving hers.
“You’ve never been more beautiful,” he told her, his voice sincere as he took in the sight of her bare body in the morning light. “You’re glowing.”
Marina smiled up at him, her hands reaching to draw him closer. “Love me, Leo,” she whispered, her eyes conveying all the emotion words couldn’t express.
He kissed her and gently eased himself between her thighs. Marina parted her legs to accommodate his girth. Their lovemaking was gentle this time but no less passionate.
Marina arched herself up and pushed her sex against him. Leo didn’t need encouragement. They had developed their own silent language filled with desire, guiding each other’s movements. He slid his length deeper into her. He slid his hands around her and with surprising agility, rolled her on top of him.
Marina let out a low laugh and bent down to capture his lips with hers. Her dark hair tumbled down. She rocked back and forth, the friction increasing her own pleasure. Leo grasped her hips and thrust upward.
Marina reached down between her thighs and flicked the small nub of pleasure between her thighs. As she rode him, she thrummed herself until she reached the pinnacle of pleasure and crashed over the edge.
“Leo!” Marina cried out his name as her hips bucked against his.
With a loud groan, Leo thrust himself one last time into her.
They lay together in the aftermath, Marina nestled against Leo’s chest as his heartbeat gradually slowed beneath her ear. Leo’s arms tightened around her, drawing her even closer as if he couldn’t bear the slightest distance between them.
With gentle fingers, he tilted her face up to his, his eyes reflecting the depth of emotion that had grown between them through every trial and triumph they had faced together.
“I love you, Marina,” he whispered, his voice rough with feeling. “Not just today or tomorrow, but for all the days I have left on this earth.”
The End?