Beauty Tempts the Beast

by Lorraine Heath

  “May you always be just as happy

  “As your ma and I’d wish you always to be.”

  He raised his glass higher. “Slàinte.”

  “Slàinte,” echoed around the room as glasses were lifted and champagne sipped.

  When Beast kissed his wife, cheers erupted.

  Scotland

  One week later

  “I think I’m falling in love with Scotland.”

  Sitting in the bed, with one hand behind his head, Beast smiled at his wife’s words, spoken as she stood nude before the window, gazing out at the early-morning mist blanketing the glen. His parents had stayed in London, giving him and Thea some time alone at the estate before joining them.

  “I’m rather fond of the view myself.”

  With a laugh, she swung around. “I thought by now you’d have grown tired of it. We’ve hardly worn any clothing since we arrived.”

  Because they’d seldom left this chamber. The second day he had taken her riding to see the lochs, hills, and forests. In the early evening they often strolled through the gardens. But he seldom wore more than trousers and a shirt. She didn’t bother with a corset.

  It made it easier to divest their clothing quickly when they returned to the room. They had weeks of abstinence to make up for.

  “Will we live here, do you think?”

  “Part of the year, but we’ll take over another wing. Can’t have my parents hearing your screams of ecstasy.”

  Screams that drove him wild. Here they didn’t have to be quiet, and they weren’t.

  After the first hasty coming together, they’d gone more slowly with the others, exploring each other as though every aspect was new and unfamiliar. In a way it was. Now there was a certainty to things. She was his wife, would always be so.

  With slow, sensual movements, she strolled over, clambered onto the bed, climbed onto him, and straddled his hips. “My fire needs stirring.”

  Laughing, he threaded his fingers through her hair and brought her mouth to his, claiming it with a thrust of his tongue. He still couldn’t keep his bloody mouth off her, which suited her just fine as she seemed unable to keep hers off him. They were perfect together. Their needs equal, their wants similar. Their desire to please the other identical.

  With a moan, she lifted her hips and lowered herself onto his hard shaft. He groaned as she sank deep. He would never grow weary of feeling her muscles clutching him.

  Then she was riding him with the Scottish sun filtering in through the windows, and he wondered briefly if it might kiss her backside and leave freckles there for him to kiss.

  Her gasps began in earnest and he knew pleasure was taking hold of her just as it was him. They were so attuned.

  When her cries began echoing around him, his grunts joined in, creating a melody he hoped to hear until the end of his days.

  She melted over him, and he held her close while their breaths slowed and their bodies cooled.

  It was several minutes before he was able to move and then it was only his voice. “Do you know what I thought the first time I saw you?”

  Lifting herself up slightly, she captured his gaze and shook her head.

  “She doesn’t belong here. But I was wrong, mo chridhe. You belong wherever I am.”

  When she took possession of his mouth with a fervor that matched her love for him, he realized he belonged wherever she was.

  Epilogue

  Scotland

  November 1910

  With his arms crossed over his chest, the Duke of Glasford stood against a wall in the great hall and watched as his duchess began gathering the crowd of nearly fifty children, spouses, and grandchildren into some sort of order in front of the massive fireplace that had warmed the arses of kings. Thea was a miracle worker when it came to organizing the Trewlove clan for a family portrait.

  Beast had been duke for close to two decades. His mother had grown weaker and more frail through the years. He couldn’t help but believe that all she’d endured to protect him had continued to take a toll on her and been responsible for giving him fewer years with her. Wearing a gentle smile, she had passed away with the two men who loved her each holding one of her hands. Beast had watched as his father’s heart broke. So he hadn’t been at all surprised when his father had passed away quietly in his sleep not more than six weeks later. His parents’ love was such that it bound them not only in life but also in death.

  His chest swelling with love and pride at the sight of his firstborn son cradling within his arms his recently arrived firstborn son, Beast did wish his parents had lived long enough to see that the Campbell line was secure for at least two more generations. They’d met his son but not his grandson.

  “I donnae know how she does it, arranging everyone and keeping them in place,” Beast said. These days he sounded more Scottish than English.

  “By terrorizing my grandchildren,” Aiden said.

  “I see nothing wrong with that. They’re terrors, your grandchildren.”

  “They are not. They’re little angels. Every last one of them.”

  With a soft laugh, Gillie shook her head. “Can you believe there are so many of us now?”

  Not all their children had married, but those who had were quick to fill cradles.

  “Does anyone have an accurate count?” Finn asked.

  “Don’t see the point,” Mick said. “By the time you get your tally, someone either gets married or has a babe.”

  “Mum looks like she’s in heaven,” Fancy said, “with all her grandchildren and great-grandchildren surrounding her. She has such a lovely blush in her cheeks.”

  Thea had placed her in a white brocade winged-back chair, the newest babe in her arms, the other wee ones gathered at her feet, the older ones standing behind her.

  “I’m not certain it’s the children causing the blush,” Gillie mused. “I think it might be Mick’s gardener. Of late, I’ve gone to see her a few mornings, quite early, and he’s there having a cuppa.”

  Years ago, when Mick had built himself a manor on land just outside London, he’d also built a lovely cottage for their mum so she could still have her independence but be near. Beast and his siblings contributed toward the upkeep, the servants, and anything else she required. It was going to be a blow when the day came that she was no longer with them.

  “Gil, she has nine decades on her,” Beast reminded his sister.

  “And you have seven. Are you telling me you’ve become a monk?”

  “Well, no, but . . .” He glared at Mick. “He a good man, your gardener?”

  Mick shrugged. “Apparently so if he’s putting a blush in Mum’s cheeks.”

  “How long has this been going on?” Finn asked.

  Mick sighed. “Years?”

  “You bloody well knew and didn’t tell us?” Aiden asked, his tone incensed.

  “I suspected. He spends more time in her garden than he does in mine, and mine is ten times the size of hers.”

  “She’s not alone or lonely. She has someone.” Fancy smiled brightly. “I think it’s wonderful.”

  “Because you’ve always fancied romantic stories,” Aiden said. “When I get back to London, I’ll be having a word with the bloke.”

  “No, you won’t,” Mick said.

  “I’m not going to have him taking advantage of my mum.”

  “Aiden, when I said years . . . I’m talking possibly twenty-five.”

  “That long,” Gillie said. “I wonder why she didn’t tell us.”

  “You know, Mum. She has her secrets.”

  “Maybe she likes feeling a little bit naughty,” Beast said. “But perhaps it wouldn’t be unwarranted for us to let her know that we’d welcome him into the fold.”

  That suggestion was met with a series of serious nods. He glanced over at Robin. He’d been right about the lad’s height. When he was finally done growing, he was only an inch or so shorter than Beast. “You’ve been unusually quiet.”

  The lad shrugged his sl
ender shoulders, although he wasn’t much of a lad any longer. He’d traveled the world capturing animals with his camera. He’d been twelve when he’d told Thorne he thought they should start leaving the animals in their original homes. “I’m just surprised so many of you didn’t know about Gran and the gardener.”

  “You knew?” Aiden asked.

  Robin grinned broadly. “Asked him some years back if he’d kissed her, and he admitted to doing so.”

  Soft laughter sounded among them.

  “You ask that question of everyone?” Aiden asked.

  Robin wiggled his eyebrows. “Want to know who your younger son is kissing these days?”

  Beast could see that Aiden was tempted to ask, but instead he simply shoved playfully on the young man’s shoulder. “Maybe you should focus on kissing your wife.”

  “I kiss Angela more than enough, thank you very much.” Few knew that Angela was Finn’s daughter, taken without his knowledge and raised by another couple. They’d all felt a bit of poetic justice had occurred the day she married Robin and became a Trewlove.

  “No such thing,” Mick told him. “You can always work in another kiss.”

  “All right!” Thea called out, motioning at them. “I’m ready to arrange you lot.”

  As they walked toward the fireplace, Beast glanced at the space above the mantelpiece where the framed canvas that bore the word TREWLOVE in a multitude of colors, the same canvas they’d all painted on a long-ago Christmas Eve, hung. When Robin had left to attend Eton, he’d given it to Beast.

  “Since your last name is no longer Trewlove, I thought you might need the reminder more than I do.”

  He hadn’t needed the reminder. At heart, he would always be and remain a Trewlove, but the lad’s generosity had touched him deeply and so, just as he had with Sally Greene’s coins, he’d accepted the gift graciously.

  He’d continued to publish his novels as Benedict Trewlove. Over the years, he’d written thirty, and while Thea always guessed the butler was the culprit, he’d never had a butler commit a murder until his last book. It was his gift to her. When he had decided to put away his pen, in his final book, at last his detective had married the widow he’d once suspected of killing her husband.

  He and his siblings stepped up onto the deep stone hearth that extended beyond the portion where a fire normally burned and arranged themselves in the order in which Ettie Trewlove had come into their life.

  Mick, Aiden, Finn, Benedict, Gillian, Fancy, Robin.

  Their spouses joined them. He placed his arms around Thea, intertwining his fingers just below her ribs, where her hands joined his. The hearth was tall enough that it gave them enough height, so she’d be seen over the head of their son’s wife.

  Thea’s hair had gone lighter, paler, over the years, was almost silver now. His hair was streaked with white but most of it remained the shade of midnight.

  “All right,” the photographer said, holding up a hand, “look at my finger. Say slàinte!”

  “Slàinte!” echoed through the room five times as five photographs were taken.

  “We’re finished,” he finally declared, and the crowd dispersed with hallelujahs and efficiency.

  Within his arms, Thea turned to face him and sighed. “Well, that’s done for another year.”

  The photograph, yes, but the portraits of the immediate family members that were to be painted in oils remained to be done. He doubted any other generation of Campbells had been documented as well as this one.

  “You’re so skilled at managing things,” he said.

  “I’ve gained a lot of experience from managing you over the years.”

  He scoffed, laughed. “You do keep me from becoming too arrogant.”

  With a great deal of tenderness, he tucked his forefinger beneath her chin and stroked his thumb over her bottom lip. She was still as beautiful to him as she’d been when she’d first approached his table and asked what she could bring him. She still managed to steal his breath. She still owned his heart.

  “Do you have any idea how very much I love you, how grateful I am you’ve been at my side all these years, how much you brighten my world?”

  “As though a thousand tapers had been lit?”

  He’d forgotten how he’d once described to her Sally’s smile in those terms. “So many more than a thousand. Robin once asked me what kissing you was like. I told him it was as vast as the oceans, as infinite as the stars. Even that is a paltry description. Of all the moments in my life, the one for which I am most grateful is the one that first allowed me to catch sight of you.”

  Smiling broadly, with all the love she felt for him shining in her eyes, she wound her arms around his neck. “At our age, I think people will understand if we go upstairs for a wee nap.”

  Which would result in no nap at all, at least not before he made love to her.

  “Knowing how much I adore you, Beauty, and that we’re a good five minutes from our chambers, I think they’ll understand if it’s impossible for me to wait that long to at least have a taste of you.”

  Drawing her in close, he lowered his mouth to hers. As his wife returned his kiss with an enthusiasm that guaranteed they would be heading upstairs in a very short amount of time, he recalled the blessing his father had given them on the day they married. He couldn’t help but believe, through the passing years, that he had always been as happy as his parents had wished him to be.

  Author’s Note

  My dear reader,

  In 1869, the law changed so titles and properties of peers who committed treason would still pass on to their heirs, rather than be reclaimed by the Crown. Unfortunately, I did not discover this law until after the story had already taken hold of me. Altering the timetable made the story clunky, and so since I write fiction and have created a fictional world, I applied literary license. In my world, either the law didn’t exist, it was ignored, or Parliament voted to make an exception for a duke who wanted to kill a queen. You may choose.

  The condition that Beast and his father shared is microtia. There are several variations of it, and it can have an impact on hearing. In approximately 5% of cases, the condition is hereditary.

  Harriette Wilson was an infamous courtesan during the Regency era, who did indeed publish her memoirs, which are now in the public domain and can be downloaded from several sources.

  The Ten Bells pub exists to this day. At least two of Jack the Ripper’s victims frequented the pub and are thought to have been seen leaving it the night they were killed.

  Most of the working class couldn’t afford clocks, and alarm clocks had yet to be invented. Therefore, people hired a knocker-up or knocker-upper to wake them. Beast’s tale of running across a murdered woman is based on an actual account of a knocker-upper who ran across one of Jack the Ripper’s victims.

  If you’re wondering why Finn and Lavinia didn’t simply adopt Robin to give him their name— In Britain, child adoption didn’t become legal until 1926. Prior to that it was informal, usually done in secret, and not legally binding.

  The blessing that the Duke of Glasford bestowed on Beast and Althea is an ancient Scottish blessing that I once heard a dear Scottish friend give as a toast, and I fell in love with it.

  I hope you’ve enjoyed reading about and getting to know the Trewloves. They are bound to make cameos in the next two books as Thea’s brothers search for their own happily-ever-after.

  Happy reading!

  Lorraine

  Announcement

  Coming next

  The first book in the Once Upon a Dukedom duology.

  Scoundrel of My Heart

  The second son of a duke, Griffith Stanwick was the spoiled spare for whom everything came easily. Until his family lost everything, and he lost the woman he loved. Now he will pay any price to have her back in his arms.

  About the Author

  LORRAINE HEATH always dreamed of being a writer. After graduating from the University of Texas, she wrote training manuals, pre
ss releases, articles, and computer code, but something was always missing. When she read a romance novel, she not only became hooked on the genre, but quickly realized what her writing lacked: rebels, scoundrels, and rogues. She’s been writing about them ever since. Her work has been recognized with numerous industry awards, including RWA’s prestigious RITA®. Her novels have appeared on the USA Today and New York Times bestseller lists.

  Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.

  By Lorraine Heath

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  The Duchess in His Bed

  The Scoundrel in Her Bed

  Texas Legacy (novella)

  When a Duke Loves a Woman

  Beyond Scandal and Desire

  Gentlemen Prefer Heiresses (novella)

  An Affair with a Notorious Heiress

  When the Marquess Falls (novella)

  The Viscount and the Vixen

  The Earl Takes All

  Falling into Bed with a Duke

  The Duke and the Lady in Red

  The Last Wicked Scoundrel (novella)

  Once More, My Darling Rogue

  The Gunslinger (novella)

  When the Duke Was Wicked

  Deck the Halls with Love (novella)

  Lord of Wicked Intentions

  Lord of Temptation

  She Tempts the Duke

  Waking Up with the Duke

  Pleasures of a Notorious Gentleman

  Passions of a Wicked Earl

  Midnight Pleasures with a Scoundrel

  Surrender to the Devil

  Between the Devil and Desire

  In Bed with the Devil

  Just Wicked Enough

  A Duke of Her Own

  Promise Me Forever

  A Matter of Temptation

  As an Earl Desires

  An Invitation to Seduction

  Love with a Scandalous Lord

  To Marry an Heiress