Page 47 of The Duke of My Desire

Justina grinned up at him. “Whatever my darling duke desires.”

EPILOGUE

One year later

Justina sank lower into the bathtub and released a soft sigh as steaming, lavender-scented water engulfed her entirely from the tip of her chin down to the tips of her toes.

Well, almost entirely.

She peered down at her rounded belly sticking up out of the water and a smile curved her lips.

Quite a lot had happened over the past year. She and Gregory were married by special license last November here in the Paxton family townhouse with a very small party of family and friends as their witnesses.

Lizzie was not able to attend the wedding, but Justina and Gregory made the trip to Cheshire in April and spent a fortnight with her and her family, which had been surprisingly lovely. She’d enjoyed spending time with her sister, and getting to know her nieces and nephews, whom she’d only met twice before. Even Lizzie’s husband hadn’t seemed as tiresome as she remembered, which either meant he had grown less annoying, or she had grown more tolerant.

Truth be told, it was probably the latter. Happiness could do that to a person. And she was very happy, indeed.

She’d settled into her new life remarkably well, considering she’d gone from an independent widow to a married woman again, and a duchess at that. Such a title came with its own freedoms, of course, but with those freedoms came responsibilities and duties and that had taken a bit of time to accept.

Being married to Gregory had certainly made the transition easier. He was a wonderful husband, sweet and supportive, and she loved their life together. Meetings, social events and charitable functions filled their days, interspersed with leisurely walks through the park or a quiet hour in the garden—simple, ordinary rituals that had become so dear to her.

The dowager duchess was a part of their daily lives, as well. Justina had insisted Araminta should reside with them if she wished to, and her mother-in-law had accepted. The two of them butted heads on occasion, but usually got on well together, except on those days when Araminta was too opinionated for her own good and Justina, who never had been very good at holding her tongue, would tell her so.

These differences of opinion were infrequent, though—even more so now with a baby on the way. Araminta fussed over Justina nearly as much as Gregory did, and her obvious excitement at being a grandmother was as surprising as it was endearing.

A contented sigh escaped Justina’s lips as she cradled her belly in her hands, her heart swelling with joy and anticipation. She was going to have a child. She was finally going to be a mother.

Before she met Gregory, she hadn’t entirely given up on the idea of motherhood, but very nearly. She’d had no interest in marrying again unless it was for love, and she couldn’t fathom ever loving anyone but Phillip.

And yet, here she was, married to a wonderful man whom she loved and who loved her and they were expecting their first child. Phillip would be so happy for her. He knew how much she’d wanted to be a mother and now her wish was finally coming true.

“That is quite the dreamy smile you’re wearing, love.”

Gregory’s voice filled the room and Justina looked up to find her husband walking towards her, so handsome he made her heart skip a beat.

“Thinking about me again?” he teased, as he knelt beside the tub, his brown eyes sparkling with affection.

Justina shook her head, suppressing a smile. “I was thinking of Phillip, actually.”

He arched a playful eyebrow. “I’m not a jealous man, darling, but I really must insist on being the only husband you think of when you’re naked.”

She laughed. “I was only thinking about how happy Phillip would be that I found you.”

The teasing light in Gregory’s eyes faded, replaced by a look that stole her breath—tender and fierce and just for her. “I'm happy you found me, too,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Justina lingered in the bath until the water grew too cold for comfort then Gregory helped her from the tub and dried her off before wrapping her up in her warmest dressing gown.

They stood together at the window, her back to his chest, his hands resting protectively over her belly. Outside, the wind played amongst the trees, sending a flurry of gold and amber leaves tumbling across the garden below.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Justina said, resting her head against his chest.

Gregory hummed his agreement. “Autumn is my favorite time of year.” He nuzzled her cheek. “It was autumn when we met.”

She smiled. “And when we fell in love.”

She turned in the strong circle of his arms and angled her chin up for a kiss. His mouth captured hers, tender and sweet, and they kissed for long moments there in the quiet with the fire crackling and the scent of lavender all around.

They were still kissing when the baby kicked, as if tired of being ignored, and Justina drew back with a laugh.