by Tracy Sumner
Stepping back, he wiggled the velvet box from his waistcoat pocket. It squealed when he opened it, a sound drowned out by Georgie’s gasp. The ring, an emerald surrounded by a circle of diamonds, had been in the Munro family for centuries. He’d never expected to love anyone enough to ask them to wear it. “If Anthony were alive, I would have gone to him first. As it is, it’s only us now.” He blew out a nervous breath, shuffled from one glossy Hessian to the other. “Will you be my duchess, my best friend, my geological assistant, my partner?”
Throwing herself into his arms, Georgiana said yes to all.
Just like that, the Ice Countess melted.
And a new duchess was born.
Epilogue
Hartshire Castle, County Galway, Ireland
May 1821
Georgiana lifted her face to the briny afternoon breeze, deciding she never wanted to leave Ireland. She loved Hartshire more than she would have believed possible. Almost as much as she loved Derbyshire. They’d arrived one month after Dex’s father died and were hesitant to leave. Walking the farmland each morning, gathering eggs and vegetables and wildflowers, racing horses over golden fields, making love in every location on the estate they could dream of, had brought a tiding swell of joy to her heart and a cleansing calmness to her soul.
In the distance, she observed the blue-black shimmer and shift of the Kilcolgan River. Merlin, Hartshire’s resident cat, looped through her legs, then left to terrorize a hen who strutted by. Georgiana placed her book of poetry by her side and settled back on the blanket, sunlight dancing over her eyelids and warming her skin. Just one dreamy moment to sleep.
The air caught the teasing scent of sandalwood and leather before her husband slid in beside her. Dex wound his arm around her waist, pulling her close. “Another nap, darling? I’ve got to quit keeping you up at night. Or you’ve got to quit keeping me up at night. I know one of those is the solution.”
She turned to face him, her gaze finding his and holding. Today, his eyes were a shade lighter than the lush soil she’d planted carrots and peas in this morning. She wanted to stay long enough to see her paltry crops flourish. See everything flourish. “About that…”
Her tone must have frightened him. He stiffened, his cheeks leaking color. “Dear God, Georgie, are you unwell?”
Propping her head on her bent arm, she smiled. “I’m well, but we may want to stay another seven months or so. Until the baby arrives. Which will give you time for your survey of the Cliffs of Moher and me time to watch my garden prosper and finish assembling the Duchess Society’s Irish delegation. And nap, oh yes, nap. Make love in all the places we haven’t found yet. That, too. I’m imagining a midnight picnic on the riverbank this summer, wrapped around each other while moonlight streams over us. Sounds poetic, to match my love of Keats, doesn’t it?”
Dex tipped her chin high with a trembling hand. He blinked, his lips parting, closing, parting again. “How long have you known?” he finally asked in a throaty whisper. “Are you sure? When, I mean…what…”
“I’ve suspected for two weeks.” She plucked a stalk of grass and trailed it across his jaw. “Fairly sure, yes. It’s why I’m sleepy all the time.”
“Well, I’m woozy. Give me a moment.” Dex flopped to his back, throwing his arm over his eyes. His chest rose and fell in a halting rhythm. “You’ve known and…we raced horses this morning, dammit!”
She laughed and all but climbed atop him, kissing his nose, his cheek. “And I won,” she murmured, sinking her teeth into his earlobe.
“No more, Georgie. Please, I beg of you. Lord, I’m having trouble catching my breath as it is.” Though he caught her by the back of the neck and hauled her into a kiss, which left them both breathless. Goosebumps erupted on her skin as the sensitive area between her thighs began to pulse. Dex’s touch was like lightning, a vivid flash to her senses.
Releasing his lips, she scooted down his body, crossed her arms on his chest, and stacked her chin on them. “If it’s a boy, I’d like to name him Anthony.”
Dex’s lids lowered, dusting his sun-bronzed skin. When he opened them, the irises were a blazing apple-green filled with wonder and joy. He touched her stomach once, gently, as if she and the baby were made of glass. “If it’s a girl?”
“You get to choose.” She shrugged. “Only fair.”
“A daughter. Me, with a daughter I have to name. Or a son.” He gripped her shoulders and rolled her over, staring into her face. His heartbeat pulsed against her breast, his warm breath striking her cheek. His eyes were glassy, busy contemplating the future. “Definitely dizzy. I won’t be able to make it back to the house, not for months. Bring the pony cart for me.” But he smiled, a gradual, wondrous, jubilant tilt of his lips. “I’m delighted. And terrified. Mostly terrified. But also thrilled.”
Georgiana grinned, drawing her hand along his back and into his hair. He loved it when she tugged on the strands and lightly scratched his scalp. Maybe, with encouragement, she could get him to make love to her, right here, right now. They were outside, but the sunset wasn’t far off, and they’d found darkness to be a marvelous cloak. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’ll be a wonderful father. Trust me. You’re the gentlest man I’ve ever known, Dex.”
“Easy for you to say. If I love the babe as much as I love you, I’ll worry every day, every hour, every second.”
“Sounds like being a parent.”
“Georgie…” Dex cupped her cheek, secured her gaze on his. He had the bookish, serious expression on his face that twisted her heart into a devoted knot. “You know you’re my world, don’t you? That I’m profoundly grateful we found each other again. That I love you more than anything, will love this baby more than anything.”
She chewed on her bottom lip, smiling as his pupils did the crafty enlargement that meant his designs were getting devious, and her clothes might soon come off. “More than fossils?”
He captured her mouth, the molten kiss dissolving the world around them. “More than, duchess of mine. Can you believe it?”
The most significant change in her life?
She did believe it.
She believed in love.
THE END
Thank you for reading THE ICE DUCHESS!
This was the prequel to the soon-to-be-released Duchess Society series. Are you eager to read Hildy’s story? Her story will be told in the first installment, THE BRAZEN BLUESTOCKING.
Come along for a scandalous ride with the incorrigible ladies of the Duchess Society as they tame the wicked rogues of London!
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Also by Tracy Sumner
The Duchess Society Series
The Ice Duchess (Prequel)
The Brazen Bluestocking (coming September 2021)
The Scandalous Vixen (coming 2021)
The Wicked Wallflower (coming 2022)
League of Lords Series
The Lady is Trouble
The Rake is Taken
The Duke is Wicked
The Hellion is Tamed
Garrett Brothers Series
Tides of Love
Tides of Passion
Tides of Desire: A Christmas Romance
Southern Heat Series
To Seduce a Rogue
To Desire a Scoundrel: A Christmas Seduction
Standalone Regency romances
Tempting the Scoundrel
Chasing the Duke
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About Tracy Sumner
Award-winning author Tracy Sumner’s storytelling career began when she pi
cked up a historical romance on a college beach trip, and she fondly blames LaVyrle Spencer for her obsession with the genre. She’s a recipient of the National Reader’s Choice, and her novels have been translated into Dutch, German, Portuguese and Spanish. She lived in New York, Paris and Taipei before finding her way back to the Lowcountry of South Carolina.
When not writing sizzling love stories about feisty heroines and their temperamental-but-entirely-lovable heroes, Tracy enjoys reading, snowboarding, college football (Go Tigers!), yoga, and travel. She loves to hear from romance readers!
Connect with Tracy:
www.tracy-sumner.com