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Selene couldn’t help the wave of admiration for her husband. She thought as everybody left. In one swift move, he gave Charles an occupation to divert his attention from gambling and enough penalty if he went back to it. He had to be the most passionately smart man in England. And the most infuriatingly inescapable man in the whole glorious world.
She stood in front of the window watching as the carriage drove away. Two strong arms embraced her from behind. She sighed and leaned on him as he enfolded her in his large strong body.
“Happy?” His silky rich voice murmured in her ear.
“To bursting point.” She smiled. She turned to him and snaked her arms about his manly neck. “Did I ever tell you how much I love you?
Their eyes met. “Yes.” He lowered his forehead to touch hers. “Did I?”
“Several times.” She leaned her head on his broad chest, closing her eyes to revel in the feel of him.
Epilogue
One Year Later
John Philip Robert Rockfield was three months of healthy lungs, Selene observed, as she took her son from the wet nurse. Displaying rich brown hair and clove eyes, the boy showed signs that he’d provoke many a women’s sighs.
At that time, ladies of the ton didn’t breastfeed their children, hiring other women to do that, as they hired people to do everything else.
In the months that followed that meeting in the manor’s study, her relationship with her family improved tenfold. Baron Drawbridge tried to make amends by rekindling his connection with Selene. He’d been present, offering help and comfort whenever needed. As for Charles, Selene and he hadn’t fully re-established their bond, as it’d been during their childhood. They seemed to be on the right track however. Charles appeared to be thriving in the house for gambling addicts, often talking about the people there and how he’d been helping them and himself in the process. As far as anybody knew, he’d kept away from cards and demonstrated interest in other areas, like the study of addiction and even love. Selene knew he’d been courting recently. All indications the lady in question being none other than the widow who ran the house for gambling addicts.
The ton had to put up with the Duke and Duchess of Crompton. After all, they were one of the pillars of their society. In time, the gossip had faded away, giving opportunity for Selene to go back to society and resume her due place in it. She never again talked to her ex-best friends, thinking it unworthy to be near people who’d betray her trust so easily. Having given birth to the heir of the dukedom, she consolidated her position, becoming the reference of the latest fashion in London.
Lovingly, she placed her son in the cradle. She’d stole some moments to come and give him a quick good-night kiss. She climbed down the steps, her water-green gauzy dress flowing around her, as she went back to the ball she was hosting. Her duke waited for her at the foot of the sweeping stairs of Crompton house, looking adoringly up at her.
The Duke and the Duchess of Crompton had become famous for their romantic displays. Not worried to hide their love, they touched in public, danced several times in every ball – it was considered impolite for a husband and wife dance more than one, – changed passionate stares and remained faithful to each other. The couple elicited sighs from romantic debutantes and envy from jaded lords
Philip took her hand, when she approached him, kissing it without hurry. “Is he alright?” He asked in her ear with his silky rich voice that never failed to arouse her.
“Yes, gone to sleep now.” She spoke back in his ear, coming nearer than necessary.
“Good.” His thumb caressed her palm enticingly, while she blushed. The first notes of the orchestra filled the air. “Will my duchess give me the honour of this dance?” He asked as he bowed in front of her.
“Gladly.” She smiled at him, accepting his arm.
In the dance floor, she lifted her eyes to him and he lowered his to her in a lustful communication all the guests struggled to witness. The couple, however, seemed oblivious to everything around them.
The charge between them so hot and intense, she wondered how they didn’t catch fire on the spot. Her breasts pebbled, as liquid fire ran through her. She blushed, her pupils dilating. He revelled in the signs of her desire. As the music ceased, they curtsied to each other and separated.
She entered and locked the door to his study.
“What took you so long?” Philip asked, impatient.
“Lady Cunningham stopped me to inquire about father.” She used to delay a little to keep him…eager.
Whenever they felt this…inexorable craving, they had a secret signal to meet somewhere quiet. Philip would press her forefinger trice, they’d separate and meet in a private place they’d spotted earlier, if somewhere else. The signal always meant the study if they entertained in Crompton house or the manor.
“She’s decided to drag him to the altar, I gather.” He commented knowingly, while pulling her to him.
“It’ll be good for him.” She let herself go willingly.
He lay her on the desk, his deft hands pulling her skirts up to discover her secrets. “Selene?” He murmured mouth on her neck.
“Hm.” Her arms and legs embraced him.
“Where are your drawers?” His hand palming her bare buttock.
“Oh, dear!” She smiled naughtily. “I forgot to put them on.
