by Aston, Alexa
Then he turned his gaze down the long aisle to the closed doors. His heart sped up as they opened and Phoebe entered on her brother-in-law’s arm. He watched her come to him, joy on her face. She arrived at the altar and the sweet smile she bestowed upon him made him the happiest man in all of England. He took her gloved hand in his. The rest of the world faded from view. There was only the two of them.
They spoke their vows and he heard the words that they were now man and wife. Andrew kissed her, hoping the promise in his kiss spoke as loudly as the words he had pledged to her. He broke the kiss and they beamed at one another.
“Shall we, Your Grace?” he asked, tucking her hand through his arm.
They quickly went and signed their registry and then reentered the chapel. They marched down the aisle to thunderous applause, gazing at one another the entire time. When they came through the double doors into the sunshine of the June day, Robbie Jones stood by the carriage, grinning from ear to ear. Andrew remembered how the driver had been so kind to him that day Andrew returned to England after so many years abroad and how faithful a servant he’d been ever since.
“Good morning, Your Graces,” Robbie said, signaling the footman to open the door. “May I be the first to congratulate you on your marriage.”
“Thank you, Robbie,” Andrew said.
“Straight to Viscount Burton’s?” he asked.
“It’s a beautiful day,” he said to Phoebe. “Why don’t we drive through Hyde Park on our way there?”
She nodded and he helped her into the carriage. Once he sat beside her, she asked, “Are we taking a detour because you want to see the park in its glory—or do you plan to thoroughly kiss me, Your Grace?”
He slipped an arm around her. “Why, I hadn’t thought of that at all, Your Grace. I find it a delightful idea, however. I hope you will be full of them for the next fifty years or so.”
With that, Andrew enfolded her in his arms and pressed a kiss against her lips.
*
Phoebe awoke, cocooned by a warm man. Not just any man.
Her husband . . .
They had been wed for a month now. What had to be the most wonderful month of her life. After their wedding, they’d gone to honeymoon in Surrey. It was only four hours outside London and one of many properties owned by the Duke of Windham. It was smaller than most of his estates and they had spent many hours walking, talking, and making love.
Afterward, their idyllic time continued when Andrew took her west to Devon and Windowmere, the country seat of his family. They had ridden together every day. He had wanted her to see every inch of the property and meet his tenants. She’d been pleased at how many of them pulled her aside and told her what a good landlord Andrew was. How diligent he was about addressing their problems and how involved he was regarding the estate. Phoebe already knew many of their names and looked forward to spending a majority of their time at Windowmere.
Andrew had insisted on holding a country ball. Though most of his neighbors were still in London for the Season, several of the locals came out from the nearby village. She met the doctor and mayor, a solicitor and veterinarian, and all of the shopkeepers. Not only had local residents been invited to the ball but her husband had also issued invitations to all of his tenants and everyone who worked at Windowmere, from the blacksmith to the bottler. She’d never experienced such an event and thoroughly enjoyed herself, dancing with grooms and footmen and even their butler. Her favorite partner had been Robbie, their coachman, who had more energy and enthusiasm than ten men combined and twirled her about so many times that she grew dizzy.
It was a happy life she was settling into. Andrew wanted her to make her own mark on Windowmere and had told her he wanted their rooms refurbished so that they reflected her style. She’d spent the past few days meeting with tradesmen and today would be the start of the renovations. New carpet would be laid and fresh paint would go on the walls. She’d chosen draperies and a few new pieces of furniture. Because of the work that would go on, they would need to move to another chamber for a week or more.
Andrew’s breathing changed and she knew he was awake. Now would come the favorite part of her day.
Warm lips caressed her nape. “Good morning, Your Grace,” Andrew said huskily, his fingers splayed against her bare belly. She’d given up wearing night rails entirely.
“And a good morning to you, Your Grace,” Phoebe replied.
He turned her so they faced one another. “How did I ever manage to wake up without you in my bed?”
“It’s our bed, Your Grace,” she said saucily.
“You have a smart mouth on you, Duchess.”
“Do I?”
He kissed her, a long, lingering kiss. His hands began to wander and, soon, he had her panting, begging for him to enter her. When he did, Phoebe soared as high as the seagulls she loved.
Afterward, she lay in his arms, her ear against where his heart beat. Slowly, it returned to normal as her fingers smoothed the hair on his chest. What they did together in no way resembled what she and Borwick had done when they coupled. She was glad of that. She hadn’t wanted her previous marriage to haunt this one.
“We should rise,” she told him. “They’re going to begin work on our rooms today. We’ll need to move elsewhere.”
“I’ve given that some thought.”
“You’ve thought about curtains?” she teased.
“We’ll go to a new place I’ve recently bought,” he informed her.
“Oh? Where is this estate? Why did you purchase it?”
Andrew kissed her. “I think it will be a surprise.” He rose and took her hand, pulling her from the bed and into his arms. “I hope you’ll think it’s a wise investment.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know anything about those things. I’m sure I’ll like it just fine.”
He released her and retrieved her dressing gown, helping her into it.
“Go get ready. We’ll leave immediately.”
Phoebe wondered what the rush was but returned to her room. She didn’t have to ring for her maid because the servant was already there with a breakfast tray.
“His Grace wanted you to eat a quick meal,” she informed her mistress.
Her curiosity grew. They always breakfasted together in a small, sunny room downstairs. She also noticed traveling clothes spread out across her bed.
“Do you know where we are going?” she asked.
“I haven’t a clue, Your Grace. His Grace said to pack a trunk for you with simple clothes and have you downstairs early this morning.”
She supposed they wouldn’t do any entertaining at this new property since nothing fancy was being packed for her. Obviously, Andrew hadn’t met anyone in the area yet. She wondered where they were going and how long it would take before they arrived. Uncovering the dish that covered her breakfast plate, Phoebe ate quickly as her maid bustled about the room, slipping items into a trunk. Once Phoebe finished, she washed and dressed and went downstairs.
Her husband exited his study, a small case in his hand.
“What do you have?”
“It’s the chessboard and pieces. I thought we could play some.”
She’d never played the game before marrying Andrew. He’d begun to teach her about it once they’d come to Windowmere. Though she had a long way to go before she mastered chess, she was starting to understand the subtleties that went into strategizing. It surprised her, though, that the new residence wouldn’t have a board. Unless Andrew meant they were going to play in the carriage. She didn’t think that wise with all the bumps along the road that might disturb the pieces on the board.
He took her elbow and escorted her outside. She saw a footman loading her trunk onto the carriage. It surprised her that only one vehicle stood waiting.
“Where is the other carriage?” she inquired. “For the servants.”
“We’re not taking any with us.”
“No Bagwell? He will be upset to be left behind,” she teased.
His eyes darkened. “Why do I need Bagwell when you’ve become so skilled at undressing me?” he asked, his voice husky.
A frisson of pleasure shot through her.
“Come, Your Grace. Your carriage awaits.”
Andrew helped her into the vehicle and joined her. He placed the case with the chessboard on the seat opposite them. His arm went about her shoulder and he pulled her to him. He smelled wonderful, the spice of his cologne wafting from his warm skin.
The coach began to move and she snuggled close. “Do we have far to go?” she asked.
“We’ll get there today. That’s all you need to know,” he said mysteriously.
They stopped to change horses and again to dine at an inn. Phoebe napped after that, curled up in her husband’s lap. She was having the most marvelous dream when he nudged her awake. As she opened her eyes, the immediate scent of salt in the air greeted her. The door opened and Andrew got out, helping her. She glanced about and was dumbfounded.
They were at Falmouth Cottage.
“This is the property you bought?”
His smiled warmed her to her soul. “Yes. I thought it could be our special place. Where only the two of us come, every now and then, to escape the rest of the world.”
Phoebe threw herself at him, kissing him enthusiastically.
“I love it,” she proclaimed. “I love you.”
Robbie carried in both their trunks, as well as several baskets.
“I had Cook pack some supplies for us so we don’t have to go into Falmouth right away,” he told her. Then to Robbie, he said, “Wait at Moreland Hall for us. Come back in a week.”
“Very good, Your Grace.” The driver grinned cheekily at them and then returned to his seat.
They watched him pull away and then looked at one another.
“Now, the real honeymoon begins,” her husband said.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Phoebe turned in a circle, taking in the place that had meant so much to her.
“Thank you,” she said. “I can’t believe you thought to buy it.”
Andrew came behind her and slipped his arms around her. She leaned into him and closed her eyes, thinking miracles do occur.
“After I chased Francis back to Windowmere and he fled, I came back here. I had high hopes of finding you via your leasing agent. Unfortunately, he perished in a fire and all the documents regarding his rental agreements were destroyed.”
She placed her hands atop his. “I’m so sorry that Mr. Booth passed and that we were lost to each other all those months.”
He chuckled, his breath warm against her ear. “I was so desperate that I even went to see Mrs. Butler.”
“You didn’t!”
“I most certainly did. She fainted when I told her who I was.”
Phoebe laughed. “The dead duke come back to life. I’m sure that gave her something to gossip about with her customers for weeks.”
He leaned his chin against her shoulder. “When she came to, thanks to smelling salts I found, I pumped her for information. I was subtle but all she knew is that you hadn’t come in for over a week and that there was a possibility of you returning the following summer.”
Phoebe reached up and stroked his face. “I did tell her that. It’s so peaceful here and I’d learned to be content. I found who I was as a person during my time here.”
She turned so she could face him. “I had hopes that my new husband could be persuaded to bring me here after we wed.”
Andrew kissed her. “Thankfully, he did. I bought Falmouth Cottage and told the new leasing agent it was only to be let if Mrs. Smith were to be the occupant. He thought me foolish, turning down paying tenants.”
“As if the Duke of Windham needed the extra income.”
His gaze held hers. “The Duke of Windham desperately needed his Mrs. Smith.”
She cradled his cheek. “Mrs. Smith urgently needed her smuggler. Or duke. Whatever name he chooses to go by.”
Andrew kissed her again, so tenderly she thought she might dissolve into tears. Then he broke the kiss and swept her into his arms.
“I never carried you over any threshold after we wed. I think it appropriate this be the one. This is where we found our happiness. I hope we’ll return to Falmouth Cottage for years to come. Just the two of us.”
“If you told me you wanted for us to live here, I’d be content with that decision.”
As they entered the cottage, he said, “No, this will always be our special hideaway. We’ll come here to escape the world every now and then.” Easing her to her feet, he added, “With the number of children we plan to make, a two-room cottage isn’t feasible for raising a large family.”
Tears filled her eyes. “You really do want a lot of children?”
“As many as we can have. I want Windowmere to be filled with the sound of children’s laughter.”
“It’s not always laughter,” she warned. “There are tears and shouts. Babies cry an awful lot.”
He nuzzled her neck. “They’ll be our babies, though. I suppose that’s easier to tolerate when they’re your own and screaming at the top of their lungs.”
He glanced around. “I had my housekeeper at Moreland Hall send maids to clean the place once a week. I wrote her and had her stock the larder for us. That, along with the items we brought from Windowmere should be sufficient. We’ll only go into Falmouth if you wish to.”
“I’m sure it would delight Mrs. Butler if we did drop by. She might even faint again when she discovers plain Mrs. Smith caught herself a duke.”
“Actually, I just remembered something. I told her the next time I was at Moreland Hall, I would have her and Mr. Butler for tea.”
“Then perhaps when Robbie comes to pick us up, we can return to Moreland Hall and have tea with them before we go home to Windowmere.” She paused. “For now, I’d like to walk on the beach with my duke.”
“An excellent idea, Your Grace.”
They left the cottage and made their way down the familiar path to the beach. She remembered finding him half-dead on the shore and how long it had taken her to get him back to the cottage, worried the entire time that he might die on her. Andrew climbed up the rocks and reached out a hand, helping her over them.
“Sit here. I’ll remove your shoes and stockings.”
Memories flooded her as she recalled him doing the same thing months ago. That was the day they’d returned to the cottage and made love for the first time. As he bent, Phoebe ran her fingers through his hair, still amazed this man was all hers.
He looked up, a gleam in his eyes. “If you keep doing that, Your Grace, you’ll not get in your walk.”
“Why is that?” she asked coyly.
His hands caressed her thigh as he loosened the ribbon and pulled her stocking down her leg and over her foot.
“Because I will throw you over my shoulder like some caveman and return to our cottage and toss you upon our bed.”
She bit her lip, fighting a smile. “Is that all you would do, Your Grace?”
“Don’t tempt me, you little minx,” he warned, laughing. “As it is, this may be the shortest stroll along the shore you’ve ever taken.”
Andrew stripped her other stocking away and sat beside her. His hand captured hers, lacing their fingers together. He raised it and kissed it several times.
“Allow me,” Phoebe said, pushing herself to her feet. “You could easily get your work boots off before. This time, wearing those Hessians, you’ll need my help.”
She tugged and managed to remove both, though it wasn’t easy. While she set them aside, he pulled off his own stockings and wriggled his toes in the sand.
Leaping to his feet, he grabbed her hand. “Come on!” he said and they ran down to where the waves washed in and out along the shore.
“Look! Two gulls,” she exclaimed.
They watched the birds at play. Andrew slipped his arm around her waist and she leaned into his warmth. The seagulls finall
y flew off and they turned away.
After a quarter-mile, he said, “Let’s see if it’s still here.” He started leading her away from the water.
“What are we looking for?” she asked, curiosity filling her.
“You’ll see. I placed it far enough up so it wouldn’t wash away. I don’t think many people frequent this stretch of beach.”
Phoebe spied a grouping of shells and found that’s the direction her husband pulled her. As they came closer, she saw the shells were in the shape of a heart. Inside the heart more shells had been placed. She read the message and tears sprang to her eyes.
“Will you marry me?” she said aloud. “This is why you came down to the beach that last day.”
Andrew nodded. He slipped his arms about her waist. “It took much longer than I thought to find enough shells to spell out my question. I’d realized that I loved you and that’s why I wanted the words surrounded by a heart.”
“Oh, Andrew.” Her mouth trembled. “I broke your heart that day by leaving without a goodbye.”
She reached up and cradled his face in her palms. “I don’t know how to make it up to you.”
“No one is keeping score, Phoebe. What happened, happened. What matters now is it’s in our past. Our separation only proved to me how much I truly love you.”
“I loved you even before we parted,” she said softly. “I will love you until the end of time.”
She pulled him toward her, his lips touching hers. The kiss went on for some time. When they finally parted, breathless, he said, “You’ve seen my handiwork and had your stroll. I say since it’s getting late and the sun is setting that we return so I can ravish you repeatedly.”
“You think to ravish me, Your Grace? What if I plan to do that to you?”
Andrew beamed. “You may try, Your Grace. I think I will enjoy your efforts.” He took her hand in his. “Time to go.”
They returned and claimed their possessions and then hurried toward the cottage.
“At least we’ll have the bed to ourselves,” he noted. “No having to watch for hissing cats whose sleep has been disturbed by our romping about.”
