A restless ache between her legs began to grow, making her gasp with astonishment.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded, her hands reaching the curve of his back. “It’s all very … new.”
“Give in to what you’re feeling,” he whispered, gently. “Don’t hold back.”
His hands cupped her breasts and, unable to help herself, Polly moaned aloud, her back arching. She would not hold herself back, would not restrain herself in any way. The sound brought a flush to her cheeks but, as pleasure began to course through her veins, she found that it escaped from her mouth yet again.
“Polly,” Sebastian whispered, his head lowering to her breasts. “You are so beautiful.”
She wanted to reply, wanted to tell him just how much he meant to her, but as his mouth ran across her breast, Polly found she could only gasp in response. Her body arched upwards as he remained there, her hands grasping Sebastian’s shoulders as he continued his gentle exploration of her body.
She thought she might explode.
“Don’t be afraid of this,” Sebastian whispered, his mouth lowering farther still along her stomach, his lips teasing her skin as he ran his hands down the length of her thighs. Polly’s core seemed to ignite as her body began to writhe of its own accord as she drowned in the sensations he brought her.
He was gentle and calm, touching her most intimate folds with such tenderness and care. She had never been touched in such a way before, and she cried out as a wave of desire crashed through her, taking her breath from her body.
“Let yourself go,” Sebastian murmured, as though she was meant to know what to do. “Don’t fight this feeling, Polly.”
He remained where he was, bringing her gently to a crescendo and, as Polly felt her body twist helplessly under his ministrations, he was right there beside her, whispering words of love as her body began to pulse wildly.
And then, something was pressed against her center, there was a sharp pain – and she cried out in surprise and fright.
“It’s all right,” Sebastian said, cradling her face in his hands as he stayed exactly where he was, unmoving. “This will pass. It is the first time, that is all.”
Polly opened her eyes and looked up at him, his expression of love caught by the candlelight. The pain began to ebb away, her body softening beneath his as she realized what had happened.
“This is the ultimate expression of our love,” he said, quietly, beginning to move within her. “I swear that I will love you until the end of my days, Polly.”
She closed her eyes and arched back against the pillow, feeling desire burn within her again as he thrust a little faster. To be this intimate, to be this exposed, meant more to her than she could ever express.
Her body went taut, her eyes slamming closed as she groaned aloud and an explicable feeling cascaded over her. Sebastian went over the edge with her, throwing his head back as he convulsed with passion. She held onto him, their bodies still joined, heat burning deep within her core.
“I love you, Sebastian,” she whispered, as he slowly lowered himself, his lips nipping and kissing her neck, her cheek, her mouth.
“I love you, Polly,” he replied, his breathing still hard. “I do not think I can ever bring myself to be separated from you again.”
She smiled then, her heart lifting. “Good. I do not intend to be parted from you for the rest of my days, Sebastian. You are the only man in the world for me and I will hold you in my heart forever.”
Epilogue
Sebastian had suggested their wedding be a small, private affair, and Polly and her mother had agreed.
Then the two women had planned the wedding of Polly’s dreams, and Sebastian could do nothing but shake his head and smile at the lively spirit of his wife. Her entire family had come to witness the event, as had his parents and older brother, who made the journey from their various estates. They were wed at his own country estate, not so far from the Greville’s, much to Polly’s delight when she found out it was less than a half day’s ride to see her sister.
Sebastian leaned back against a column in his ballroom as he watched dancers flit around the floor. His new bride was resplendent as he watched her laughing with Violet and their sisters-in-law. They were a rather lovely bunch of women, although none could come close to matching Polly.
“Taylor,” came a gravelly voice in his ear, and he turned to find his face level with a broad chest. He looked up to find the stern countenance of a man somewhat familiar. He looked like the Duke of Ware, although less heavyset and with far fewer wrinkles. He also lacked the jovial countenance of the man who had sired him.
“Lord Harrington,” he said with a bit of a bow to Polly’s eldest brother. “I am pleased to meet your acquaintance.”
He had seen the man before, at Greville’s wedding, but had not taken the opportunity to speak with him. Daniel Harrington was a rather intimidating sort, that was for certain.
There were stories of the man that Sebastian and Greville had heard through the Runners after Greville married Violet. Stories that this man had powerful connections, and one did not want to cross him. It was all rumor, however, and Sebastian now knew better than anyone to not take everything one heard as truth.
“I heard what you did for my family, for my sister,” said the man. “I’ve been told this man, Yardley, has retired to his country estate, where I am certain he shall stay for the foreseeable future. Word has it that families in the area have been well informed of his past reputation. Anyway, Taylor, I am in your debt.”
“I have all I need,” Sebastian replied with a nod of thanks. “Though I do appreciate the offer.”
The future duke took a sip of his drink. “Be that as it may, if you ever need anything, you have but to ask. Do ensure you keep my sister happy and protected.”
With that, he stepped away, melting into the crowd of people, some from London and some from the area about Sebastian’s country estate. Polly had wanted to meet them all, to make them feel welcome, as she noted they would soon be her neighbors as well.
Harrington’s place beside him was soon replaced by Greville, who placed a hand on his shoulder.
“What do you suppose that was about?” Sebastian asked his friend, who was staring after the man. Greville shrugged. “One never knows with such a man,” he said. “But I believe we should feel rather fortunate that we are now part of his family and not opposing him in any way.”
Sebastian nodded with a bit of a laugh, and Greville clinked his glass with his. “And will you continue with the constabulary?”
Sebastian shrugged. “Polly would like me to. I think she rather enjoys the idea of helping with their work. Now that she knows the full story of what happened to Violet, she finds her own role in my particular investigation rather dull.”
Greville shook his head. “Dull is rather preferred when it comes to the safety of one’s wife.”
“Fair enough,” Sebastian said with a nod. “I believe I will take it case by case. If it’s something that would not threaten her safety, so be it. But my priorities have changed.”
Greville nodded in agreement.
“I am rather pleased with the conclusion of this story,” said Greville with a grin. “It is about time you left the past behind you and moved on with your life. I recall you being rather jovial when I found my own wedded bliss. Well, I am happy to now reciprocate. And, I can certainly see that you’ll be kept on your toes.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” Sebastian said with a laugh as Polly and Violet began approaching. “Yes, I did show a bit of glee at your own fall into matrimony, didn’t I?”
“You did,” said Greville, and Violet joined them with eyebrows raised.
“Whatever is so humorous?”
“Nothing,” Greville said. “We were merely discussing how happy the two of you have made us.”
Violet rolled her eyes, but Polly only smiled happily at her husband as she took his hands in hers, looking at him as if it were
only the two of them in the room, despite the fact that it was filled with multitudes of people.
“Dance with me, Sebastian?” she asked, and he realized he would never be able to say no to the open, eager face that looked up at him. Nor would his life ever be the same. He knew he would continually be challenged by his spitfire of a wife, the woman who had changed everything he had every planned for his future. He looked down at that smiling face, the one that had captivated him ever since he had laid eyes on it.
“Always,” he replied.
THE END
* * *
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PROMISE OF REDEMPTION
Prologue
“So, how is that son of yours?”
“Which one?”
“The future duke, of course.”
The current Duke of Ware sighed, looking upward, hopeful that God would hear his silent prayers. “Daniel is just the same as always. Hard, angry, bitter, alone — as he has been for years now.”
The Marquess of Burrton nodded sagely, his wispy gray hair bobbing as he did so. “Still keeping himself closeted away?”
Heaviness settled over the duke’s heart when he thought of his son, though he would never reveal such emotion to his friend. “I do not know what he does with his days, nor what he intends to do with his life. I have taught him all I can, of course, so he is more than ready to take on the title when the time comes, but he shows no enthusiasm for it.”
“And he is not married.”
“No.”
“He will need an heir — and I can see that troubles you,” Lord Burrton said, inclining his head. “I understand that. I went through the same thing with my boy.”
A chuckle worked itself free as the duke remembered how Lord Burrton had often complained about his son doing nothing but throwing money away in London. One year later, however, and the young man was now married with a child on the way. “I suppose it means that, in time, all will be well if we put our trust in our children.”
Lord Burrton snorted. “As you did with your other children?”
Recalling the measures he and his wife had taken to try to push their children to find matches, the duke shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It had all worked out wonderfully, however, with his children now not only married but happy. With one exception.
“And do not think that I waited for Henderson to make the right decision on his own, either,” Lord Burrton replied, with a wide grin of self-satisfaction. “It is my own doing that brought about his married state. I threw the two of them together, I did.”
Frowning, the duke sat up a little straighter and sharpened his gaze, regarding his friend carefully. “You did?”
“Of course I did!” the marquess exclaimed, as though Ware should have known. “You did not think I would let my son continue in his foolish ways without doing something about it, did you?”
A little surprised, the duke sat back in his chair and studied his friend. They had been companions for over two decades, and he considered Burrton to be one of his closest friends. They’d shared much of their lives with one another, although apparently, he did not know everything that Burrton had been up to lately.
“So, you found your son a bride,” Ware murmured, thoughtfully. “Did you find any difficulty in securing his agreement?”
“None whatsoever,” Burrton replied, with a glint in his eye. “I simply threatened to take away a great deal of his fortune if he did not.”
Ware frowned, rolling his glass between his fingers. “I do not think I could do that to Daniel. The lad has been through enough.”
Lord Burrton chuckled, lifting his brandy glass with a wink for the duke. “Of course you could. You can do whatever you need to in order to secure the future of your line. Sure, Daniel has had his trials, but it has been years now. Where is that second son of yours, anyway? He is not the kind of gentleman who could take over the line if Daniel fails to do so, I don’t think.”
A slight nudge of regret tugged at the duke as he thought of Thomas, but he brushed it away quickly. The boy — the man, he should say — was happy now. Ware had pushed him to the sea, and Thomas had turned around and made a life for himself. Burrton was just being blunt and direct, as usual, although the duke didn’t think he ever intended to be either rude or condescending.
“My second son did well for himself in the navy,” he now said, slowly, “but he has chosen his own path for a time. I know he would step up to the task if it was required of him, however.”
“A free spirit, eh?” Lord Burrton grinned, waggling one finger in Ware’s direction. “Always a little trickier to manage, that kind of son. However, your eldest son appears not to be that way, although I will confess that I do not quite know what to make of a gentleman who likes to remain at his remote estate and very rarely attend any kind of social gathering.”
“I think that is the problem,” the duke agreed, somewhat sadly. “I do not know much about my son either any longer. I cannot tell you why he shuns society and why he insists on remaining at his estate for the Season. He did attend before, some years ago, but has not done so for some time now.”
That had always weighed rather heavily on his soul, the fact that he had lost such touch with his eldest son when they had once been so close. They had spent a great deal of time together when Daniel was growing up, in between his stints at Eton. It was important that a duke’s son learn his role for when the time came for him to take his place. However, while Ware was certain that Daniel knew what was expected of him and he could put it all into practice when required — evident by the fact Daniel ran his own, smaller estate very well — a coldness had formed between them.
Ever since the death of the woman Daniel was courting, it was as if he had built a wall of ice around himself, keeping to his own home and very rarely venturing from it. At least, he did not think that Daniel often took himself away, for there was rarely news that his son had been seen in London or Bath, or any other of his once-frequent haunts.
“You are aware that I have a daughter.”
Lord Burrton’s voice broke into the duke’s thoughts, and he stared up at his friend in surprise while the marquess poured himself another brandy.
“She is not remarkably pretty, that I will say, but she is as accomplished as you would expect any young lady to be,” Burrton continued, regarding the duke with an almost serene expression on his face. “She is well mannered, genteel, quiet, and with a decent brain in her head.” He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. “I must say she is actually altogether too practical, but one cannot stop one’s daughter from reading, and that is all she appears to do!”
“She does not enjoy society?”
Lord Burrton appeared to grow a little uncomfortable, his eyes darting away as he shifted in his seat. “Truth be told, old friend, I have not encouraged her in the way I ought to have done. She has no mother, as you know, and so I put all my energies into finding my son a bride before thinking of her.” He shrugged slightly, as though the death of his wife some years ago was an excuse for ignoring his daughter’s future.
“I have always intended to take her to London, but I can hardly stomach the idea of having to take her about places in the hope that she will find a suitable gentleman. She has a decent dowry, of course, but I know what the gentlemen of the ton are like. They will not care for a bluestocking who fills her head with knowledge, regardless of how amiable she is. I always feared she would be something of a wallflower, and I did not wish that upon her.” He shrugged again, looking back at the duke. “As I said, she is not a diamond of the first water or anything close to it, but I am sure she would do. Now I myself have … prospects, and I realize it would be much easier to take a new wife if my daugh
ter were married.”
“Ah, so you are serious about Lady Aster,” the duke said, grinning at his friend, who nodded back at him with a satisfied smile. “And you are thinking that my son could marry your daughter.”
Lord Burrton nodded, his eyes alight with hope. “I think that would be a marvelous idea,” he said, as though Ware had come up with the plan himself. “It would save me having to fret about whom Christina is to marry, and it means that your son will finally have himself a wife and, hopefully in time, an heir.”
The duke nodded slowly, considering things carefully. The rest of his children had all married and were now happy and settled — which meant that Daniel’s lack of interest in the matrimonial state was now all the more evident. Even his wife had nearly given up hope, and she was as stubborn as they came.
“It would be a good match,” Lord Burrton continued, eagerly. “Joining our families together, eh? You know that I would not present her if I did not think her capable of being a duchess one day, do you not?”
“I do,” the duke replied. “Do you think your daughter would agree to it?”
Burrton grinned, his eyes shining with delight at the duke’s acceptance of his proposal. “I think she will do what she is told,” he exclaimed, chuckling. “What of your son?”
Hesitating, Ware looked back at his old friend and pursed his lips. “Daniel may take a little … persuading, but I will do what I have to. Typically, it's my wife meddling in our children’s affairs, but Daniel will be duke one day, so I suppose I ought to see to him. It is far past time he takes a bride.”
“Of course he must!” Lord Burrton exclaimed. “He is the heir to the dukedom. He ought to have been the first to marry.”
Searching Hearts Box Set: Books 1-5 Page 58