“It’s not?”
“No. What we did here was…exceptional.”
Emily sat up, extremely interested in this news. “Really?”
Duncan met her eyes. “Yes.”
Emily lay back down. “Oh.”
She put her head on Duncan’s shoulders snuggling close to him. “I’m glad,” she whispered.
Duncan reached for her, pulling her even closer and kissed her forehead. “Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Duncan woke from sleep and for a moment he wondered why he felt so happy. Then he registered the warmth at his side and turned his head to see Emily, still asleep, long dark lashes fanning her cheeks. He stared, reaching out to brush her hair away from her face.
He smiled, before sighing happily and turning so that he was facing her completely and just watched her sleep.
His eyes ran over her porcelain skin, still unable to believe that he was free to touch as he pleased. He frowned as he noted the duvet, concealing most of her from his sight. The fire had burned down to embers otherwise he might have been tempted to push the covering off her and expose her to his hungry gaze.
He slid out of bed, padding naked to the living room to get the food he remembered being there. He carried the tray of food and the bottle of wine to the bed chamber, placing it on the bedside table before slipping back under the blankets.
He stared at Emily, contemplated waking her up. It was still very early but they’d also gone to sleep quite early in the night.
“Emily?” he whispered.
She stirred as if she heard his voice in her dreams.
“Emily, wake up.”
She turned her head, eyes flickering open. She blinked up at him a few times and then smiled, as if recognizing him for the first time. “Good morning,” she said softly.
“Good morning, my love.” He reached for the plate and offered her a sandwich. “You must be hungry, won’t you sit up and eat?”
Her eyes dropped to the sandwich and her smile widened. She pulled off the duvet and sat up, exposing herself to him without shame. “Yes, I think I can eat.” She took the sandwich from him and took a bite, not breaking eye contact with him.
He leaned in, and pressed his lips to hers.
The End?
Extended Epilogue
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Preview: For the Lust of a Rogue
Chapter 1
The carriage rumbled forward, every now and then bumping harshly from unevenness in the country road. Lady Caroline Beauchamp, the daughter of the Earl of Brighney, moved in her seat, feeling nauseous from this seemingly endless journey.
She had made the mistake of trying to read for the remainder of the trip to London, which had caused her stomach to turn violently. Caroline brought her muslin handkerchief to her delicate face, her pallor even paler than her usually lily-white complexion.
"Caroline, whatever is the matter, child?" Philip Beauchamp, the Earl of Brighney, observed his daughter over his reading spectacles, holding a folded letter in his right hand.
"It's nothing, Father," she said, mustering a smile. "I do wish we arrive in London soon." She pulled the small burgundy curtain back and peered out of the carriage window. The sunshine blinded her eyes, but she could clearly see the outlines of the countryside. The ride was still far from over.
How long will I be trapped inside here?
Caroline groaned softly, causing her father to chuckle good-naturedly.
"Cheer up, poppet. I'll read you the latest development from Her Grace’s predicament with the ton." Her father shook his head and began reading the letter his sister, the Dowager Duchess of Winfair, had sent them prior to their journey. Caroline giggled, pulled back the curtain, and enjoyed the soft timbre of her father's voice. Inevitably, this journey would end.
Caroline was returning to London for the Season, after a quiet and uneventful winter. Unlike many other young ladies, Caroline had never been interested in marriage. During the last Season, she had turned down several hopeful suitors, much to her father’s chagrin. She was sure her Aunt would be overbearing once they finally arrived.
The Dowager Duchess lost her husband from a sudden illness three years ago, and as she had never had any children, she always treated Caroline as her own daughter.
The carriage halted, startling Caroline. She sat up straight and could hear the hustle and bustle outside their carriage. Lord Brighney folded the letter he had been writing.
I must have fallen asleep. Goodness, I must look an absolute mess!
One of the footmen opened the carriage door and assisted her father out. She was still disoriented from her slumber and half-blinded by the stark contrast from the brightness outside and the dark interior of the carriage.
"Lady Caroline?" The timid voice of Caroline's young lady's maid, Madeleine, was barely audible.
"I'm coming," Caroline responded as she stepped out, inhaling the scent of the city. There really was no other place like London.
Brighney Manor was filled with life once more. All around were footmen and housemaids carrying luggage, disappearing through the service quarters. Caroline sat in the parlor with her Aunt, who was pouring her tea.
"How was the journey, dear?" the Dowager Duchess asked. "You look rather pale," she added sternly. The Dowager Duchess was very concerned about appearance, and Caroline often felt that nothing she did was quite right.
"Come now, let the child be." Lord Brighney had just entered the parlor, looking far more awake and energetic than Caroline felt. The Dowager Duchess looked irritated, but she did not let it bother her. "We will go over to the linen draper tomorrow," she said casually, then added with a pointed glance at Caroline. "I desperately require a new ball gown, and judging by the state of your travel gown, the same goes for you, My Lady."
"Certainly, Your Grace." Caroline dreaded it already. Now, if her aunt would have said, “We should spend tomorrow perusing the vast library,” that would have been ideal. Yet the idea was almost ludicrous. How Caroline could lose herself when surrounded by books. She had been fortunate to have been educated well, her father saw to that.
Caroline was well-versed in French and literature, as was expected of young ladies of her stature. However, she held a keen interest in law and politics, but was careful never to make that apparent. It was not fit for a lady to study such things, as the purpose of a young lady’s education was to prepare her for married life.
The Earl of Brighney was the Lord Chief Justice, and Caroline had been sneaking into his office to read his law books for as long as she could remember. It fascinated her immensely, and her thirst for knowledge was unquenchable. The mere idea of marriage was enough to make her insides twist.
None of the suitors she had met during the previous year had sparked the slightest interest with her. Some had been rather polite, young sons of Earls and Barons, others—to her horror—were widowers who were around the same age as her father. Caroline was sure she would not be permitted to reject all the suitors during this Season, not with the constant emphasis on marriage from both her aunt and her father.
The following morning, Caroline lay in her four-poster bed, her blonde locks surrounding her head like a halo. She turned to her side as she contemplated the night's dream. It had been a strange one—she had been standing at the altar in a bridal gown, which was made out of pages from books.
As she turned to see who she was marrying, she saw no one, but had been certain someone had been there before. Caroline sat up and the book she had been reading before she fell asleep fell to the ground. She knew she'd better not let the Dowager D
uchess see what she'd been doing.
Heaven forbid that I find some true solace around here. This endless discussion of courting and marriage is making my head hurt!
The dinner last night had been not so much a family meal, as a prolonged monologue from her aunt about the upcoming ball at Almack’s, which was supposedly going to be much grander than the previous one. The Dowager Duchess was one of the Patronesses of Almack's, the committee which consisted of a few of the most distinguished ladies of the ton.
A soft knock on the door made her turn around. "My Lady, are you ready?" The soft-spoken lady's maid stood in front of her bedroom door, and Caroline wondered whether she was ever going to stop quivering around her. Madeleine had been in her service for only a few months now, recently emigrated from France.
Caroline supposed she was a good lady's maid, but she did not feel close to her, not like her previous maid, Emma, who had turned in her notice rather unexpectedly the past year. Emma had been a wonderful companion, loyal and faithful through and through.
"Lady Caroline?" Another knock.
"I'm ready," called Caroline.
The sooner this day starts, the sooner it will be over. At least I hope so!
Caroline sat at the breakfast table and had barely finished her egg and bread roll when her aunt snapped her fingers, and a maid scurried forward to remove her plate, her head bowed.
"A lady must be mindful of her waist," the Dowager Duchess said sternly. "It would be a great shame if you would gain too much weight during this most important time in your life. Even you, with your slim figure, need to be careful."
Caroline stared at her aunt, biting her tongue to stop her retort. Instead, she smiled sweetly, "You're right, Your Grace, of course."
"Mrs. Wilson," the Duchess called.
"Your Grace." The housekeeper of Brighney Manor stepped forward. Mrs. Wilson was rather short, with a round figure and a kind smile. She was a gentle and warmhearted woman, who had been Caroline's confidant and supporter all her life.
As usual, she had her flaming red hair, which was now speckled with gray, tied in an elegant knot at the back, two unruly curls framing her face. The sight of her helped quell Caroline's frustration. Mrs. Wilson often seemed to be the only one that truly understood her.
"Tell the coachmen to have the barouche ready." The Dowager Duchess stood up gracefully.
"Of course, Madam."
"Luckily, we are to see the tailor, my sweet Caroline. You cannot be seen wearing these out-of-date gowns." At that, the Duchess left the room. Caroline sighed loudly.
"Don't you fret, Lady Caroline," Mrs. Wilson said softly. "Her Grace cares about you a great deal. You know she's only concerned for your well-being, dear."
"Thank you, Mrs. Wilson." Caroline inhaled deeply before standing up.
Oh, dear, I fear this is going to be a long day.
Thankfully, the carriage ride to the linen draper wasn't long, and with the open compartment, Caroline didn't feel at all queasy. She actually rather enjoyed being back in the hustle and bustle of the city. All around were people walking, chatting on corners, and the sound of horses’ hooves and children playing filled the air. Spring was here!
The Dowager Duchess was droning on and on about the upcoming ball, still, and Caroline had to try her hardest to be polite and proper. Especially when they passed a bakery with the most decadent looking pastries on display in the shop window.
Caroline's mouth watered at the sight. After a short ride, the barouche came to a gentle stop, and the coachman jumped from his raised high box seat to help them down.
What seemed like an eternity later, Caroline stood inside the small dress boutique. Her feet and back ached from standing in front of the seamstress, who had just finished measuring for her new gowns. They had been to the haberdashery to choose trimmings.
At the linen drapers, the Dowager Duchess had picked out for her a pale primrose that suited Caroline's fair complexion very well, and a Pomona green color, which Caroline thought was much too bold. Still, she agreed with her aunt's every choice, lest this day be longer than absolutely necessary.
"You may step down, Lady Caroline," the dressmaker said before turning to the Dowager Duchess to discuss her new ball gown. Caroline walked to the back of the shop, followed by Madeleine. She knew that her aunt would be preoccupied for a while, which gave Caroline an idea.
I should pop by the bakery—I am absolutely famished. I'm sure Her Grace will not notice that I have gone. I need to get away from her fussing, if only for a brief moment.
She looked surreptitiously at her aunt. As she had suspected, all focus was on the Duchess' new gown, with all the shop assistants tittering around her and the seamstress. This was Caroline's opportunity. Very carefully, she opened the shop door and slipped outside. Madeleine followed her looking shocked, but thankfully did not utter a word. Caroline looked at her lady's maid curiously and then hurried forward.
The bakery was not far away, but Caroline would need to be quick. Heaven knows what would happen if her aunt realized that she was gone. Although she could have spent half a day just perusing and inhaling the sweet scent inside the shop, Caroline quickly chose her pastry and left the shop.
Just as she was debating whether she ought to engulf the sweet now or wait until she returned home, something knocked into her, causing her pastry to fly away, and her to fall to the ground. Madeleine shrieked, and Caroline was utterly confused about what happened. The next thing she noticed was a figure in front of her with an outstretched hand, and eyes of such a breathtaking shade of hazel-green that she felt her breath quicken.
The man helped her stand up with ease, and as Caroline stood, to her surprise, she felt her cheeks burn crimson, staring at the handsome stranger in front of her.
Chapter 2
"Are you all right? That was quite the stumble." The tall man looked with concern at Caroline. He had a neatly trimmed beard, which was a shade lighter than his chestnut brown hair, which had fallen slightly over his eyes as he bent down to help her.
He had a chiseled jaw, and his strong arms were clearly visible through his fitted, deep green tailcoat. Caroline didn't know what was happening. Her heart was racing, and she didn't seem to be able to look away from this man.
"Are you hurt?" The question brought her back to her senses, and at once, it was as if the volume of the surroundings had been amplified.
"Oh, no, I’m all right," Caroline mumbled, looking around her. "I'm just confused about what happened."
"I'm afraid the pickpocket that I saw running down the street did not see you," the man said.
"Pickpocket?" Caroline gasped, and immediately her hand shot to her neck. Her necklace was still there, and everything seemed to be in place. As she relaxed, she noticed that she was still holding his hand from when he helped her up. She let go of it, immediately missing his warmth.
"I do beg your pardon," the man apologized, taking a small step back, "I haven't even introduced myself." He bowed his head, not looking away from her.
"Langley. Jasper Langley." Caroline felt a strange warmth fill her insides, as his name echoed over and over in her heart.
Mr. Langley.
"Lady Caroline Beauchamp," she finally replied. Caroline noticed Madeleine looking at her sharply, no doubt judging her improper introduction and their prolonged eye contact, which was on the border of indecent.
"Pleased to meet you." Mr. Langley seemed to feel Madeleine's stare. He looked away from Caroline, seeing the now filthy pastry on the ground.
"Allow me to buy you a new one, and perhaps a coffee as well?" He gestured at the bakery she had just vacated, with a hopeful smile. Caroline wanted to scream, “Yes,” but Madeleine took a step closer to her, looking anxious.
I really ought to hurry back to the boutique. How strange it is that I wish that I could simply stand here, being in Mr. Langley's company, if only for a short while.
Before she managed to inform him that she must go back, he rummaged in
his coat pocket. "Perhaps it would be better to arrange our rendezvous at another time," he said, handing her a small business card.
"Thank you again for your help. I am ever so grateful." Caroline accepted the card, placing it carefully in her reticule.
"I pray we will meet again." He bowed low before turning away from her and walked away. Caroline stood still, watching him leave, feeling inexplicably somber at the sight.
"My Lady..." Madeleine's voice was so high and nervous that she sounded like a bird.
"All right, let's hurry back." Caroline walked back toward the boutique, and once they had arrived, she thought for one horrible moment that the Dowager Duchess was no longer inside. Thankfully, she was still inside, trying on a new gown. Caroline was about to push open the door when Madeleine stopped her.
"Please, My Lady," Madeleine said, fetching a small brush from a pocket in her skirt. "Allow me." She began to brush off the dirt from Caroline's fall, which would no doubt have aroused questions from the Duchess.
"Thank you," Caroline said sincerely. They managed to slip back inside without anyone noticing. In the carriage ride back home, Caroline read the inscription on the card Mr. Langley had given her.
Jasper Langley - Langley Legal Practice
Jasper entered his office, his mind replaying his short moment with Lady Caroline. Suddenly, he couldn't remember why he had left the office in the first place. All he could think of were her eyes—as blue and deep as the ocean. He didn't hear Malcolm Holmes, his assistant, calling his name.
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