Page 30 of The Gift of a Christmas Scandal

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Epilogue

Selina drifted out of sleep slowly. The curtains were still closed, but light filtered between them. Lisbet had left her to sleep late again. Then her mind caught up with everything, and she sat up, eager to rise and move on with the day. For today, she would be married. Today, she would become the Duchess of Southolton, a title she was happy to carry, for it meant that her life would be spent with Alex.

He had returned the previous morning, the special licence in hand, and promptly scandalised everyone again by kissing her by way of greeting. She did not care in the least about their disapproval – she would bear far worse for his kiss.

She had chosen to wear the rich dark gold gown she had worn, that day so long ago now when she had first seen Alex at the Chaterwood soiree, and Lisbet had cleverly added some extra lace and beading to it. It was beautiful, and she was happy, so happy, to wear it – for it was to be her wedding dress.

The vicar had agreed to perform the marriage at Fortescue Grange – it was to be done in the ballroom, before all of the house guests, and she had been told, a number of the local landed gentry and persons of importance. None of the details mattered, beyond the fact that she would marry Alex.

~~~~~

The vicar had raised an eyebrow when presented with the special licence, bearing the name of a woman other than Lady Phyllida, but had wisely not asked Alex for any information – although Alex was quite certain that he had asked others, as soon as he might. Now, the man stood calmly before him as Alex waited for Selina to arrive.

The ballroom had been decorated for Christmas and further ribbons and drapes added in honour of the wedding. The guests milled about on one side, the quiet susurrus of their conversation filling the room. Then the sound stopped. Alex turned.

Selina stood in the doorway, her hand on her father’s arm. The sight of her took his breath away. She was beautiful. The gold of her hair was set off by the deep gold of her gown, which was, like so much about her, richly opulent, and somewhat more daring than might be seen to be proper, which fact only made him love her more. A fact which he had not been able to tell her of, yet.

Her eyes met his, and his awareness of all else faded away. She came to stand beside him, and the ceremony began. Later, he remembered nothing of it, except the warmth of her hand as he slipped the ring, that had been his grandmother’s, onto it.

Finally, the words were said, and it was done. He was married – something he had not expected to be, for some time, when he had returned to England. But where the thought of it had filled him with horror when it had seemed that he had no choice but to marry Lady Phyllida, now, with Selina at his side… his wife… he was filled with joy.

People came forward to congratulate them, all with the expression which said that they wished to know more of the scandal that had brought the marriage about, and he took pleasure in being as blandly polite as possible, refusing to satisfy the tiniest bit of their curiosity. As he was swept, with Selina, away to the parlour, where everyone would wait whilst the staff set up the wedding breakfast in the ballroom, he noticed Lady Phyllida. She stood with Lord Hockingmoor, almost leaning on him, whilst he hovered over her, looking most solicitous.

It might have been uncharitable of him, but he could not help but think that her assessment of the world had shifted – perhaps now, with the title of Duchess not an option, becoming a Countess seemed acceptable to her. If that was the case, he wished her well of it.

The rest of the day passed with unbearable slowness, made worse by the fact that Selina was by his side, yet he could do no more than touch her hand, when what he wanted to do was far, far more. At first, she was quiet, but then, as the day wore on, she relaxed – so much so that, when they sat to eat, her hand had slipped under the table, to touch and tease until he felt that he might explode. There had been dancing, and holding her in his arms was a joy. She had held his gaze, and whispered to him.

“This time, I have no need of a note…”

His words had been even softer.

“This time, we will have time, and comfort. I promise you, I will give you the pleasure you deserve, not the paltry taste of it that our assignation permitted.”

She had licked her lips and nodded. Nothing more was needed – just that action left him aching to carry her from the room on the instant. But he did not. Propriety had to be served, if people were ever to get past the scandal and treat her well as his Duchess. He wanted her to be happy – whatever it took for him to give her that gift.

It was late in the evening when they were finally able to slip away to his chambers. As they stepped through the door, he was pleased to see a good fire in the grate, and a tray with a decanter of brandy and two glasses resting on the side table. But before that, before anything, he would do what he had wanted to do all day.

He swept her into his arms, spinning her around, bringing his lips to hers in a kiss which held back nothing of the passion and love that he felt for her. She clung to him, returning his passion in kind. Long minutes passed, as his hands roamed over her shape, caressing her through the gown, bringing small moans of pleasure from her lips. After some time, she drew back from him a little, her cheeks flushed, and her breath coming fast. Her eyes sparkled, richly green in the warm light from the fire and candles.

“Alex…”

She hesitated, and he gently brushed his lips over hers again.

“Yes, my love?”

Her breath caught at his words.

“Love… is not something that we have spoken of. But I must, now, before you remove my ability to think, as I know you can do. Alex… I love you. I did not expect… but, somehow, it has come to be. Can you… can you care for me that way, beyond the pleasure that we can bring each other, with our bodies?”

His heart seemed to pause in its thunder in his chest. He had hoped… but he had not been sure. His heart surged again, and a mad wildness ran through his veins. She loved him!

She was still watching him, uncertainty and almost fear in her eyes.

“Selina… I can… I already do… I love you Selina, and I had not dared to hope…”

Tears shone in her eyes, and she reached for him again, pulling his head down into a kiss. This time, it was deeper, the expression of all that they had both been afraid to voice, all that they hoped for, in the future. His fingers found the tiny buttons on the back of her gown, and he began, one by one, to undo them, to unwrap the present that her gift of a Christmas scandal had granted him.

He lifted his lips from hers a moment.