“That your Father will not be here to witness his daughters marrying is a terrible tragedy, but it is wonderful you have both found happiness.”
“We have a difficult time ahead of us, Isaac,” she said, stopping again and looking at him seriously. “But the reward at the end shall be wonderfully sweet.”
“Indeed it will, my love. Indeed, it will.”
Epilogue
Over a year had passed since Henry’s passing, and they had finally come out of mourning. It was time to celebrate and renew their lives again.
Isaac’s legs felt weak beneath him as the organ music began. He faced the altar, not daring to turn around for he no longer trusted his body to hold himself up. He was nervous and excited, a bubble of energy bursting through him.
He wore a white linen shirt and silk cravat beneath the waistcoat lined in gold and intricately embroidered. His black, cut-away tailcoat had been left unbuttoned, and his dark, tight breeches reached his knees. He had a new top hat for the occasion, lined with a brushed silk that shone in the light. He rocked nervously back and forth in his shoes.
The organ music became louder and he heard the door to the church open with a clatter. Behind him, their guests gasped as the bride slowly made her way down the aisle, Lord Percival, her brother-in-law, accompanying her. But still he didn’t turn. He closed his eyes and breathed out slowly from his mouth, calming his beating heart.
It had been a long, arduous year of mourning and then half-mourning. The grief over Henry’s death consumed the entire household, from the lowest of the servants right the way up to the head of the household, and Diana and Celine had been inconsolable for such a long time.
And when, free of mourning, they could celebrate their love again, Diana and Isaac had first attended the wedding of Lady Celine to Lord Percival Templeton. As Isaac took his own turn at the altar, he thought back to that day.
As Lady Celine and Lord Percival had said their vows, Diana and Isaac had gazed at each other from across the room, each mouthing their respective vows, each promising each other all there was to promise, until their own chance came.
Celine had, as always, looked incredibly beautiful in such a simple gown, and her union with Lord Percival was true and firm. Isaac could see the love between them as though it was a real physical thing and there was no doubt that they would be happy for the longest of times.
The footsteps down the aisle got closer, closer still. He could sense Diana near him in the same way he always did—his body came alive, his nerve endings thrumming with a passion that was more than just physical. His body and his soul called out to her, craved her, like the mate they had always wanted.
Finally, Diana stood beside him. He felt her gaze on him and he glanced at her, her porcelain skin just visible through the delicate lace of her veil. Her red hair had been carefully wound into place, gentle curls falling around her face, and beneath the veil he could see the sparkle of diamonds weaved into it.
“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice barely there as she had taken it away, stolen it with her loveliness.
“You say that often,” she said, and he caught a glimpse of her teasing smile.
“I say it often because it is true. But today, it is especially so.”
She smiled at him briefly, then turned to face the front, and as he looked at her, he could see the slight shake of her body.
She is nervous, too.
How he loved her—every inch of her. Her shaking he found endearing, her stubbornness infuriating, her teasing so perfect and amusing. She was beautiful and funny and intelligent, in ways he had never known it was possible to be, and she had truly changed his life for the better.
He looked at her again, taking in her whole ensemble Her gown was made of ivory silk and trimmed with the same delicate lace as her veil. The sleeves, though short for summer, puffed gently, and the bodice tightened only over the chest, leaving the long skirt to widen over her body.
Weaved through the silk and the lace, Isaac saw the twinkling of the tiniest jewels, and he thought of them as stars upon what had become his entire universe. Shining, as she shone.
“Dearly beloved,” the priest began. “We are gathered together here in the sight of God—”
Isaac knew the words by heart for he had longed for this day, but still he could not hear them. His heart pounded all too loudly and he blinked away the tears that began to form in his eyes. He had never expected to get there, to be marrying a lady he loved and for love, nothing more. The emotion threatened to overwhelm him.
“Isaac Campbell,” the priest said. “Wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
“I will,” Isaac said, looking only at Diana, but as he spoke, his voice cracked, his joy and his love unable to be contained.
“Diana Allen…”
The priest continued, but again, all Isaac could do was look at his beautiful Diana, the lady so soon to be his wife. When she said those words, “I will,” he wanted to pick her up and spin her around. He wanted to kiss her so deeply and truly that everyone in the room would see their happiness together.
But, of course, he didn’t. He couldn’t. There was still so much of the ceremony left, but Isaac longed to get her alone, to talk of all that had happened that day and to shower her with love and compliments.
His hand shook as he placed the ring on her finger, a ring of pure gold that he’d had especially made for her, and she giggled. She, too, was unable to keep her emotions under control.
And when finally, they were released in the world as man and wife, they skipped back down the aisle, hand-in-hand, smiling broadly and nodding their thanks at their guest’s kind words.
The wedding breakfast was held at Wensworth Hall, the home of Celine and Lord Percival, much to Diana’s delight. It was such a beautiful place in which to celebrate a handsome life to come, and thanks to the fine summer weather, they held the celebrations in the garden.
“A garden,” Isaac said, an eyebrow raised to her as he held a glass of champagne to his lips. “It is the perfect place for our wedding breakfast, don’t you think?”
“I do,” she said, nodding her agreement.
“And it has the added benefit of meaning you cannot run and hide.”
She slapped him playfully on the arm, her lips twisted into half a grin.
“I no longer have need to run and hide,” she said. “Not now that I have you.”
“Or perhaps,” he said, “we can run and hide together.”
“Now that,” she said, pointing at him, “is an really good idea. Although perhaps not today. All these people are here to celebrate our marriage, after all.”
“No,” he said with a twinge of disappointment. “I suppose you’re right. Although later—”
“Later, we shall do all those things we have craved to do for so long but have denied ourselves in the name of propriety.”
“You are a tease, Duchess,” he said. “But you are mine, and that is good enough for me. Later, then.”
“Later.”
He couldn’t pull his gaze from hers and she couldn’t pull hers from him, and as he sipped his champagne, he thought of all the time they would have together in the future.
In the time since her father had died, Isaac had spent his time between Estnell Estate and Gallonon Hall, running the two simultaneously. They would, now that they were married, move into his childhood home, but he had promised Diana they would not sell Estnell Estate but instead keep it perhaps as a summer home—or somewhere she could escape with her books from time to time.
That night, they would return to the marital home. Isaac had organized for the servants to strew flowers all through the house, from the entrance to the marriage chamber, and all over their bed. He had asked them to light candles all a
round and to leave them a little sustenance in the room. He wanted her first night at Gallonon Hall to be one she would remember forever.
“That’s it now, you’re done for, My Friend.”
Isaac turned to the jovial voice to find Lord Percival smiling back at him.
“What do you mean?” Isaac asked, laughing at such a strange thing to say.
“Your bachelor days. Long gone. You have a wife to keep you busy now. I doubt we shall see you on the London scene again.”
Isaac rolled his eyes.
“What nonsense,” he said. “I want nothing more than my wife—and if that means an end to soirees, then I will gladly give them up. Would you not, for Celine?”
Percival laughed loudly and slapped Isaac on the back.
“I would indeed,” he said, winking. “But I’d rather you don’t tell those at the club. I should never hear the end of it. You are, as I am, a man in love. And that, Isaac, my Dear Friend, is worth the world.”
Diana couldn’t stop herself from searching out Isaac. Their eyes would meet whether they stood next to one another, or whether they were at either end of the garden. They were drawn to one another, and as the evening wore on, Diana could feel the excitement building.
“Do you think we will be able to leave soon?” she whispered to him in a snatched moment of private conversation.
“My, Diana, you are keen,” he said, teasing her, and she shot him a withering look.
“I can’t deny,” she said after a moment. “I do believe we’ve waited far too long already.”
“All right,” he said. “We’ll say our goodbyes and leave.”
As their carriage left for Gallonon Hall, it left in its wake a horde of half-drunk cheers and a few lewd comments from some of the bolder of their guests.
Diana didn’t take her eyes of Isaac all the way back to the house. She licked her lips hungrily. She had wanted this for so very long, to know what it felt like, to be united with him in body as well as soul. And so, when they arrived home, she barely noticed the flowers or the candles.
Instead, she scampered as quickly as she could to the bed chamber, pulling Isaac by the hand and looking back at him coquettishly at every turn. He laughed, free and happy, and she laughed too, knowing they would finally be able to enjoy each other.
Once in the bedroom, she turned and demanded he unbutton her gown. He did as he was asked, and she let it fall to the floor. He looked at her in surprise, and then he laughed again, moving forward to unlace her corset. When she finally stood naked in front of him, she raised an eyebrow at him.
“I told you,” she said, moving closer to him and pulling at his breeches. “I have waited far too long.”
“I love you for many things, My Dear Lady Duchess,” Isaac said. “But your boldness and desire are, at this very moment, one of the most enticing things I have ever seen of you.”
“Yes, your body is rather telling me the same,” she said as she cupped his hardness through his trousers. “Come now, undress. I wish to see my delightful husband in all his glory.”
Their love making was at first frantic and passionate. They could not keep their hands from one another, nor from any part of their body. Her fingers roved all over his body, desperate, needy, not knowing which part to touch next.
While his, they held first her face as he kissed her, pushing himself against her, his tongue into her mouth. Then, they moved to her breast, her stomach, the gentle curve of her back.
“The bed,” she said, his mouth on hers, and together, as one, they stumbled towards the bed.
She laid back, a fire within her, and he towered above her, holding himself up so that he could view her completely.
“Kiss me,” she said, and he did.
He kissed her, and as he did he bit down on her bottom lip and she yelped, then laughed and pushed her tongue further into his mouth. His hand moved down to her breast, cupping it gently at first and then, with swift and sudden movement, he grabbed at it, squeezing hard. She cried out, the pleasure and pain causing waves within her, sending her mad with desire.
She moaned at him, and he looked back at her with an eyebrow raised.
“Tell me how much you want me,” he said.
“I want you,” she said breathlessly. “My God, how I want you.”
“Not good enough,” he said. “Tell me more. Tell me what you want.”
“I want to feel you inside me,” she said, her cheeks flushing gently at the improper words but flushing fiercely for the fire of want that rushed through her. “I want you to push into me and make me cry out like a wild animal.”
She reached down and cupped his manhood, hard and thick and ready for her, and she grinned at him. He wanted it as much as she did, she knew. She let her fingertips stroke him until she felt him shiver in the same way he had made her.
“You are a temptress, Duchess,” he said, glaring down at her.
“And you are a tease, Duke,” she said, raising her eyebrows at him. “Are you not going to give me what I most desire?”
“Perhaps,” he said, shrugging. And then he bent his head, flicking his tongue across her nipple until it stood erect.
“Bite it,” she said.
He looked up at her in surprise.
“Bite it,” she repeated. And so he did. He bit it, softly at first, gradually building the pressure until she yelped and cried out.
“Yes,” she said. “That’s—”
But she couldn’t finish the words, but at the same moment she felt his manhood search her out, and then the swift push inside her. She gasped, the size of him such a surprise inside her, and although she felt a split second of pain, it was quickly replaced with longing and pleasure.
“You were ready for me,” he said, looking down at her.
“I’ve been ready for you for months,” she said. “Every time I think of you my thighs become moist with yearning.”
He smiled and she smiled back, and then he began to move, thrusting into her again and again. He moved slowly at first, and then he sped up, moving faster and more frantically and she did, indeed, cry out like the wild animal she wanted to be.
She clutched his back, digging her nails into him, and he groaned with the delight of it. Then she let her hands drift down to his buttocks, so taut and strong, the muscle thick and knotted, and she grabbed hold of him, pulling him deeper into her.
“Yes,” she moaned. “Yes.”
He leaned down and kissed her, his mouth hard against hers, his tongue intrusive, and she sucked on it, enjoying the taste of him, the sensation of him.
The more he moved, the more the tension built within her, building, building. It grew into this thing that needed release. She craved to let go, to feel the relief and satisfaction of it. And then he shuddered, groaning loudly, and she felt him grow and throb inside her.
And that tipped her over the edge. It was his pulse that pushed the tension in her to breaking point, and a fire exploded in her body. She screamed, loud and free, her arms around his back, slick with sweat, and pulling him down to her so every part of her body touched every part of his.
As the waves died down and she regained her breath, his lessening hardness still inside her, still on top of her, but no longer moving, no longer throbbing, she whispered into his ear.
“I love you, my Dearest Husband,” she said.
“And I you, my Duchess.”
With a sigh of true contentedness, they pulled themselves from each other, their sweat sticky but a product of their love. They lay spent, panting and breathless, neither moving again nor saying a word as they re-energized.
Finally, Diana found her way into the crook of Isaac’s shoulder and they lay there, he with his arm around her and she holding his hand with a looseness that spoke of their confidence together, of their happiness and security.
They lay like that, perfectly still and in perfect silence, for a long time, both enjoying the simple sensation of being together and knowing it was forever, in the eyes of God.
It was just as Diana’s eyes were closing to drift off to sleep that Isaac finally spoke.
“You have made me the happiest man alive, today,” he said. “And I am eternally grateful that you have accepted me into your life.”
“And I you, Isaac,” she said sleepily. “More than you’ll ever know.”
The End?
Extended Epilogue
Eager to know more on how Diana and Isaac’s relationship evolved? Then enjoy this free complimentary short story featuring the beloved couple.
Games of Desire for Lady Hellion: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 28