“I beg your pardon!”
Charles reluctantly pulled away at the sound of Ariel’s brother’s shocked, incensed voice. He turned his attention to the man, noted the crumbs on the front of his coat, the red tinge of both embarrassment and rage coloring his complexion. “I don’t know how things are done in America—in fact, I’d wager this is still highly inappropriate in distinguished, civilized circles in the Colonies—but the least I can do is demand an explanation,” he blustered.
Not to be outdone, Charles stood as well and was pleased to realize he was a good several inches taller and much broader than the other man. He wasn’t usually one to promote physical violence, but he would to protect Ariel. He’d do a great many things outside of his usual character for her.
Charles cleared his throat and wove his fingers with Ariel’s, bolstered when she gripped him tightly. “Why, I’m quite desperate to marry your sister.” His heart pounded joyfully against the inside of his ribcage when she smiled up at him. She rose to stand beside him with just a gentle tug of her hand.
The earl scoffed disbelievingly, “With all due respect, I find that difficult to believe.”
A muscle in Charles’ jaw flexed so hard it was a miracle his teeth didn’t shatter. “There is nothing respectful about what you just said,” he snapped. “Why is it so difficult to comprehend that I would want to have Ariel as my wife?” Her brother sputtered, not quite sure how to respond without wounding her. “Because I am a duke?” Charles snarled. “Do you forget that I was no more than a businessman of only comfortable means mere months ago? That the sole reason you feel I have any worth to me is a name I have been unwittingly given and a title I’ve been unwillingly forced to accept?
“All we are are men. Our blood runs red no matter if we are born in a palace or a slum. And, when I look at your sister, I do not see a spinster with few options or my entree into anotherancient family, or whatever it is your English tongues feel is appropriate to brand her with; I see a woman.Thewoman with whom I need to spend the rest of my life. No other woman will do. Only her. Always her.” Charles turned back to Ariel, his voice softening along with his eyes. “And so, I am simply a man asking a woman if she will accept his offer of a lifetime of his company, his unwavering fidelity, his heart, and his self-important, obese feline.”
“Yes!” All heads snapped to face the marchioness, tears streaming down her cheeks and her hands clasped against her heart. “What? Of course, she’s going to say yes!” She looked at Ariel. “Youlovehim!” The marquess slipped an arm around his wife’s slim waist and tugged her close, an unspoken request for silence. There was no disguising the amused smile threatening to break out upon his lips, though.
Charles turned back to Ariel. She stepped closer to him and wound her arms around his neck, not caring who watched them.
“I most certainly do.” She tugged his head down for a kiss and, for the first time, Charles looked forward to the future.
Epilogue
One Year Later
It had been a relatively uneventful crossing, but Ariel was still relieved when the English shoreline came into view. The hazy green line lying atop the horizon was a welcome sight after so many months away. While the bracing, briny sea air was pleasant, her heart longed for the familiar scents of London and the countryside.
A strong arm slipped around to hold her beneath her breasts and warm lips pressed a tender kiss to the side of her neck. She leaned back into her husband’s embrace, allowing herself to melt against him, knowing he would hold her steady.
“Are you looking forward to returning home?” Charles’ low voice rumbled through her back, making every inch of her hum with awareness. This hadn’t stopped for a single day of their year-long marriage, and she doubted it ever would.
“Boston is home now,” she replied truthfully with a contented sigh.
It had been difficult and the adjustment hadn’t been effortless, but she’d managed with Charles’ love and support to carve out a place for herself in America.
At first, Society and the local papers had taken an unnerving amount of interest in the American duke and his unconventional English duchess. Though Charles was struggling to adapt to fit his new title into his old life, he took great pains to ensure Ariel was as comfortable and confident as possible. Not once did she ever doubt that she’d made the right decision in accepting his offer of marriage and embarkment upon a new life across the Atlantic.
Gradually, the stories shifted from one of sensationalized wonderment and highly critical assessments of everything Ariel did, wore, said, and how she looked to flowery accounts of the American duke’s unabashed adoration of his wife. Coming from a man who had once been a child beaten for too frank a show of emotion, Ariel never took Charles’ love for granted and she returned it with as much open affection as she was capable of displaying without causing a scandal.
As he’d anticipated, Charles’ partners at the firm requested he take on a less prominent role in the company. His presence had attracted attention- and story-seeking clients rather than the earnest business they required to stay afloat. Though it had pained Charles, he’d transi- tioned to a less public-facing role. It wasn’t that he needed to work any longer—the Ryton duchy had surprisingly deep pockets—just that he’d always had to do so. To go without the constant bustle of employment left him a bit aimless.
Ariel immediately recognized her husband’s distress and, at her urging, he decided to promote the business by hosting events and promoting fundraising efforts in the company’s name. Using her experience from being raised in London’s upper class, Ariel assisted him in creating foundations and charitable endeavors. They discovered new passions and set about creating a more conscious Boston.
With Charles at her side, Ariel had finally found her niche. Not a day went by that her heart wasn’t full to bursting, and her soul glowed with happiness.
“It’ll be a few hours yet until we’re docked,” Charles murmured against her hair. “We should go below so you can rest a bit.”
“You mean, you want to get me alone before we’re inundated by friends and callers,” she replied with a smile.
“Is that so wrong of me?” Ariel could hear the smile in his voice.
Ariel turned in his embrace and wound her arms around his neck. “Not at all.” Her voice was sultry with promise.
Hardly five minutes had elapsed before Charles and Ariel tumbled into their cabin, mouths meeting greedily and fingers working furiously at buttons and ties.
Twin hissed breaths of relief filled the small chamber when their flesh finally met. Hands skimmed familiar hills and valleys and ridges, the places where they knew the other ached to be touched.
Charles reclined on the bunk and pulled her to straddle his hips. Bracing herself on his chest dusted in crisp dark hair, she rocked her hips to caress the underside of his turgid cock with her already wet and needy sex. Her arousal came swiftly and powerfully as of late, and both of them were pleased to take advantage of it.
“God, Ariel…” Charles groaned, sinking his fingers into the flesh of her full hips and thighs, rocking her harder and pressing her body more fully to his.
