by Gill, Tamara
His shoulders sagged in relief, and he pulled her against him, tipping her face up for a kiss. The wanting of the man in her arms left her breathless, even with the ton looking on in awe. The scandalous gasps from the matrons of the ton, the shouts from men faded as the kiss continued.
Iris kissed him with everything she could, all the pent-up emotions she had fought this past week. The terror that she would remain heartbroken for the rest of her days living her life out in Cornwall a mean, old spinster. A woman haunted by the fear she had been played the fool by the man she loved.
"Marry me, Iris. You are my heart and soul. Forgive me and marry me, please." His voice soothed any remaining anxieties, and she nodded, knowing this was what she wanted. What she had always wanted from the very first moment her eyes had taken in the duke. There was only ever the duke.
"I will marry you, my heart."
Josh wrenched her against him again, their kiss, devastatingly slow, a dance of seduction and promise of what was to come in life, what she had to look forward to, days and nights of endless love and adoration. The kiss went on and on. Iris felt the familiar need to be with Josh alone thrum through her veins, and she reveled in it. She disregarded the ton watching them and kissed her husband to be. Soon she would be his, and he would be hers, and there was nothing that anyone or anything could do to change that fact.
"May I escort you home?" he asked her, a question in his stormy blue orbs that she understood.
"Take me back to your mother’s home, Your Grace. I would prefer that."
A wicked grin lifted on his lips, and he started for the stairs. Iris having to run a little to keep up with him. She laughed, knowing they would be the scandal of the Season and the most talked of for many months to come. But she did not mind, for she had her husband to be, and the ton, for all she cared, could go hang their gossiping tongues. She was to be a duchess. There would be no pitying glances now. Nor ever again.
Chapter 32
They snuck away from the ball, and Iris wasn't naive enough not to know that both their families knew they were leaving, and together. They did not raise a brow when both declared they would like to depart, and with two carriages brought around the front of the townhouse, Iris hoped that no one else would notice their disappearance.
The duke's carriage pulled up at the front of the ducal townhouse while hers was taken around back to the mews. The footman guided her through the gardens, and she felt the tension leave her shoulders when Josh came to the terrace doors leading onto the gardens to escort her inside.
"I did not think I would ever see you grace this home again," he declared, wrapping his arm around her waist and giving her a comforting squeeze.
Iris's blood pumped fast through her veins, and she felt her nipples tighten, the longing between her legs increase. Since having been intimate with Josh, when apart from him, her need for him had only increased.
She had wondered if they were to be separated for the remainder of their lives, however would she survive not being with him?
He guided her up the stairs, the house quiet but alight with candles, flowers everywhere just as it always was.
Josh walked them along the long corridor and past her own suite of rooms to come to his. She had not been in his room before and wondered what it was like.
It was unlike anything she had seen in her life. Iris felt her mouth gape at the ornate, painted ceiling. The large, four-poster mahogany bed had three steps leading up to the mattress itself, placing it higher than the rest of the room's furniture. Dark-blue silk bedding covered the bed, the settee before the fire, and the desk chair, all upholstered in the same color. The room sparkled with gold and rich blues and greens. The Aubusson rug underneath her silk slippers, opulent and soft.
This would be her room, too, when she shared his bed. "I cannot help but wonder what my suite of rooms will look like after seeing this one. Your bedroom is the most magnificent room I've ever seen in my life."
He chuckled, throwing his superfine coat over a nearby chair. Josh walked to the door, snipping the lock, and came toward her.
Iris swallowed, nervous for some reason but also excited for what was to come. He was so handsome, his eyes dark pools full of promise and need. She reached for him when he came close enough, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Our bedroom, Duchess. Of course, you do have one of your own through those doors just there," he said, pointing across the room, "but I hope you spend most of your time in here. With me."
She kissed him quickly, needing to taste him again. Remind herself that this was real, and they were engaged again, but this time, without any secrets or hurts that could raise their ugly heads and destroy them.
His lips, soft at first, demanded more, and she was soon swept into a haze of desire. He kissed her hard, almost punishing her with his need, but she met his every want with those of her own. How she had missed him. Had wanted him so very much, even through the pain she endured this past week.
* * *
His fingers worked the buttons of her gown quickly, slipping her dress from her shoulders to pool at her feet. Josh's blood pumped loud in his ears. He needed her, needed to know she was indeed here and his from this day forward.
Her fine shift that sat over her corset was almost transparent, and he could see the outline of her small stomach, the flaring of her hips. He wanted to kiss every inch of her. Mark and learn every part of her, declare that she was his and no one else's.
Josh untied the delicate ribbons on her shift, slipping that too from her body. He turned her about, his hands furiously working the stays. They, too, fell to the floor. Then, wanting to kiss her as much as his need to breathe, he whipped her about, taking her face in his hands and kissing her soundly.
She met his demand, her sweet tongue dancing with his, making his cock stand on end, weep with need for her.
He slid his hands down the soft skin of her back, feeling the small indentation from her stays before cupping her ass. He lifted her, pleased when she wrapped her legs about his hips and pressed against him, her wet cunny, hungry for him as much as he was for her.
He took the few steps to the bed, tumbling them onto the soft mattress and not bothering to pull down the bedding. His need rode him hard, and he could not think straight for want of her.
"You're so beautiful," he declared, settling between her legs and rubbing himself along her slick, hot heat.
She gasped, her teeth pinning her bottom lip as he teased her. "I want you, Josh. Do not make me wait."
He grinned, dipping his head to kiss the sensitive spot just beneath her ear, her neck, and then down to her perfect-handful breasts. He took one into his mouth, laving her nipple, watching it with awe as it puckered farther at his touch.
He rolled her other nipple between his fingers, eliciting a moan from her lips. His cock twitched at the sound, and he knew he had to make her come before he went anywhere near her, or he'd spill before she gained her climax.
A man could only take so much, and he had thought she was lost to him. That never again would he have her in his arms. The knowledge and the realization she was here now, his and only his for the remainder of their lives, drove him to distraction. Made him lose any control he may have held.
"I will not, darling," he said, kissing her flat stomach, working his way out to her hip, nibbling and kissing his way between her thighs. She opened for him, and he marveled that she was so willing to do anything he wanted.
The jagged, red scar from her carriage accident came into view on her thigh, and he kissed his way along it. Iris ran her fingers into his hair, her hand soothing the guilt he would forever feel having written the bet that injured her.
"Josh," she moaned when he kissed the sensitive inner flesh of her thigh. He licked his lips, the sight of her wet, weeping cunny making his head spin. He pushed her legs apart, kissing her where she ached.
She gasped, her fingers spiking against his skull. He worked her flesh, kissed and tasted her need. Sh
e was sweet and musky, perfect in every way. She lifted her ass off the bed, seeking her pleasure. Josh reveled in her freedom, her womanly wiles that took what she wanted from him without fear or shame.
"You taste so sweet, my darling. I'm going to make you come so hard," he declared, his tongue mad against her engorged nubbin. He teased the opening of her sex before pushing two fingers into her hot heat. She shuddered at his intrusion, her body bucking at his touch.
She held his head against her flesh as the first tremors of her climax skittered through her core.
She called out his name, a chant as she took her pleasure. Josh laved at her flesh, wanting more, always wanting more of her.
He came atop her, her gaze luminous and pleased. Her legs wrapped about his hips, pulling him close.
He needed no encouragement. Josh thrust into her, unable to wait for a second longer. She gasped his name, brought him down for a kiss. He took her mouth, owned every part of it, mimicking what his cock was doing with his tongue.
His heart was full, his body alive and teetering on edge. He wanted her to come again but did not know if he could hold off. He pushed, deep, angling himself to tease her in a way he knew worked.
She reared up, grinding herself against him, and he lost his breath. Where had the little hellcat, the siren in his arms, come from? He adored this side of Iris, and that it was all for him, no one else would ever have her in such a way, was an elixir to his soul.
He took her relentlessly, and she shattered beneath him, her fingers scored down his back as she came for the second time in the night.
He promised it would not be her last as he lost himself within her, a small part of him hoping that his seed would take root and they would start their family this evening.
He wanted all of her, forever and even longer than that, if he could negotiate with God. He slumped to her side, pulling her into the crook of his arm. Their breathing ragged, he smiled into the firelit room, content for the first time in what felt like a lifetime.
"I love you," she whispered, kissing his chest before promptly falling into a deep sleep.
Josh chuckled, kissing the top of her head. "I love and adore you, Duchess," he declared, unable to wait until he married her, which, if he could make use of the special license he'd procured, would be tomorrow.
Chapter 33
Their wedding was held in the drawing room the following morning at the London townhouse. The home was theirs now, Josh and Iris's, and Iris could not believe she was now the Duchess of Penworth, a wife and hopefully soon a mother to the duke's children.
He stood with his sisters, the five of them together, laughing and smiling, each different, but all of them the same somehow—the love, especially that they all had for one another evident on their visages if nothing else.
How lovely that her dearest husband came from such a supportive, loving clan. That her mama was a favorite of the dowager duchess also played in her favor, and she could foresee many enjoyable Christmases, Seasons, and birthdays in the future.
"Congratulations, my dearest Iris. If I have not said this before, let me say so again now how very happy I am that you are my son's chosen bride. The love of his life, if my estimation of him is accurate. Which, as his mother, I'm usually right."
Iris chuckled, kissing the dowager's cheeks. "I thank you for welcoming me into your home, for allowing me to have such a successful second Season. I owe you everything, throwing me into the realm of Josh. I would not have met him otherwise."
The dowager shook her head, watching her children across the room. "I do not think that is the case. Soul mates have a way of finding each other. You were destined to be my son's wife, his love. I'm as certain of that as I was certain of my love match all those years ago."
Iris felt her eyes grow damp, and she blinked, not wanting to turn into a watering pot on one of the happiest days of her life. "I must ask for I have not come across her, but did you invite Lady Sophie this morning?"
The duchess pursed her lips as if she had tasted something sour. "We did not. Lady Jane and I laid to rest any inclinations the little minx had in gaining the title of duchess. She is safely stowed back in Hampshire until she can behave herself next year."
Iris laughed, not having known the dowager or her mama could be so commanding in society. Still, they were friends and were from two powerful families, so it was not so unlikely they would remove any impediment to their children's happiness.
"Thank you for your assistance with her. I was uncertain how to, if I'm honest," Iris admitted, having never liked conflict.
"You are most welcome," the dowager said, smiling as Josh walked up to them both. He bussed his mama on her cheek before reaching for Iris.
His large, strong arm wrapped about her waist, and she reveled in the public display of his affection that he had taken a liking to it would seem. Iris glanced about the parlor where the morning wedding breakfast was being hosted and noted several eyes had taken note of his hold. Iris smiled up at him.
"I have asked for Elizabeth to play a waltz on the pianoforte, Duchess. Will you do me the honor?" he asked her, his eyes warm and promising of the wonderful future they would have.
"I would love to dance, Your Grace."
Josh led her over to a part of the room that allowed a little dancing, and Elizabeth started to play. He pulled her into his arms, holding her closer than he ought for propriety's sake. Not that Iris would say anything about it. She adored being in his arms, being his.
"Happy, my darling?" His hand on her hip moved about her back and made little circular motions along the bottom of her spine. She shivered.
"I'm so happy, and you?" she asked him, wanting to hear him say it as well.
He leaned down, kissing her before everyone present. Iris felt heat kiss her cheeks, and she grinned like a debutante at her first ball when he pulled back.
Josh chuckled. "I have never been more so. The thought of a future, a life with you at my side, is a puzzle piece I never knew I was missing. Not until I met you." He kissed her again as he turned them about. "I intend on making you so very happy until I take my last breath, Your Grace."
Iris's eyes smarted, and she blinked, trying to clear her vision, but it was no use. His sweet declaration, the way he looked at her now, as if she were everything to him. His sun and moon, the breath that he breathed, his reason for living were too much to endure. She would never have enough of him.
She sniffed. "I'm pleased that you promise me such things, for I adore you too. So much. I never want to be parted from you ever again. I could not bear it."
Josh swung them to a stop, cupping her face and wiping the stray tears from her cheeks. "We will never be divided again. If it is the one promise I make, know that to be true and steadfast."
Iris nodded, knowing he would hold to his decree. Had she not been so caught up in her husband's love and warmth, she would have noticed the room stood in awe, in envy, and without a dry eye in the room at the love shared by the Duke and Duchess of Penworth.
The devotion.
Epilogue
Three years later
Iris sat on a daybed in their private suite of rooms, staring out at the gardens of Dunsleigh. She watched as her husband walked about the roses with their gardener, gesturing his plans for a new design and layout to the beds.
She smiled, running a hand over her very pregnant belly, the fear that something was wrong never far from her mind. She was uncommonly large and had been from the first moment they found out she was expecting.
At first, Iris had put it down to too much cheese and bacon at breakfast that she had craved, and then followed by turtle soup and soufflé. But she could no longer say such things. Every time any of Josh's sisters visited, each of them exclaimed over her size, happy, but even she could see the concern that clouded their vision.
She rolled to her side, a cushion beneath her stomach for support, and gasped as a rush of fluid spilled from between her legs and onto the daybed.
&
nbsp; Iris shuffled to the side, gaining her feet, and walked carefully to the bellpull, relieved when her lady’s maid bustled in with a fresh pot of tea and biscuits.
"Becky, please have the doctor come immediately and fetch the duke. I think I'm going to have the baby today."
For a moment her maid, wide-eyed, did not move. She merely looked as stunned as Iris was when the fluid gave way before she rallied and all but threw the tray down on a nearby table and bolted out of the room.
Iris smiled, having never seen her move so fast in her life. She made her way over to her bed, ready to settle herself under the blankets when her husband, his face pale but his eyes alight with expectation, stumbled into the room, rushing to her side to assist her.
"Iris darling. Your maid said you think you're in labor?"
She nodded, pointing to a pile of folded cloths on a nearby chair that was standing in wait for this very day. "Those linens, Josh. Grab them quickly. I'm leaking fluid all over the bed."
He glanced at her wet gown and did as she bade, coming back to her with all the linens in hand. "Would you like me to place one under you?" he asked her, ripping the bedding down and out of the way.
"Yes, I think that is best. When the doctor arrives, I'm certain he will help us further."
The maid came into the room, less harried and accompanied by their housekeeper who had birthed many babies over the years, Josh one of those children.
She dipped into a curtsy, coming over to Iris. "Your Graces, it looks as if the day has arrived. The doctor has been sent for by our fastest rider, Jeffrey, but I think it is best if we strip Her Grace of her gown and down to her shift where she will be more comfortable."
Iris nodded, and then a wrenching pain tore through her, stealing her breath. She reached for Josh, the fear in his eyes echoing her own at what she was enduring. The pain grew, her stomach cramped, and she screamed, clasping her body in the hopes that it would stop.