Regency Romance: The Duke’s Ever Burning Passion (Fire and Smoke: CLEAN Historical Romance)

by Charlotte Stone

  She lifted her head from his chest to look him in the eye. “Of course I can be.” When he grinned, she continued, “Just because I have not been patient with you in the past does not mean I am incapable of it. Besides, this is different. This is real.”

  “So, if you become pregnant and I am overprotective and anxious and nervous?” he asked, looking quite vulnerable.

  “I shall tell you that it will be all right.” She paused and reached for his hands. “And when I am nervous, Shep…because I will be nervous too…you shall tell me that it will all be all right.”

  “Yes,” he agreed and leaned forward to kiss her.

  She lifted a finger to stop him. “You still have not asked me.”

  He laughed and picked her up around the waist. “Nothing gets past you. Will you marry me, Jules? Will you be my wife?”

  “Is this real?” she asked as his lips trailed down her neck. “I feel like I must be dreaming.”

  “It is unfair for me to pressure you,” he said with a strained voice. “But please, Julia, after all these years. Give me an answer. And let it be yes.”

  “Yes,” she whispered against his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck. She kissed him as she had always wanted to, knowing that they would have a lifetime to go on kissing one another, a lifetime to build something good and true and solid between them. “Yes!”

  * * *

  Epilogue

  .

  Cunningham, Kent

  Cunningham

  Julia closed the door of the nursery and sighed deeply, leaning against her husband. “I am exhausted.”

  Shep took her waist in his hands, bringing her back to his front. “How exhausted?” He placed a lingering kiss on her neck as she wrapped her arms around the ones that hugged her middle.

  “When Cat had George, she seemed to do it all without breaking a sweat,” Julia continued once they were in the privacy of their room. “I thought well…I could make it look that easy too.”

  “Well, Cat never had twins,” he told her. “Since you decided to have two at once…”

  She arched a brow at him. “I decided?”

  He hummed in the back of his throat as his hands spanned her waist and he moved closer to her. “Well, perhaps it was a joint effort.”

  In all honesty, however exhausted they were, it had been the happiest eighteen months of both of their lives. It was not that those months had been perfect or seamless, but they had been joyful because they were together. He had realized he had never been so happy lying beside her after their wedding and the wedding breakfast, wrapped in her arms, her hair spread across the pillow. It was like discovering a new color he had not known existed. He had pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. “I love you. I cannot believe we waited so long to be together. But I am so…so beyond glad we are together now.” He knew now that his purpose in life was to be her husband.

  Her finger had drawn shapes on his back. “You know, it’s funny…” she sighed lazily with such contentment. “I used to keep the letters you wrote me beneath my bed. I never thought I would actually be in your bed.”

  He had kissed her swollen lips, and she had hummed in the back of her throat, her energy back up. “Our bed.” But her comment had gotten him thinking, now that they were officially man and wife and now that they were officially one. “Do you still have the letters?”

  She had finally opened her eyes to look at him, smiling. “I suppose I do. I should probably get rid of them. Honestly, I just have not thought about them. It has been quite the whirlwind engagement.”

  Kissing her shoulder, he had murmured, “I should have written you a dozen letters during our engagement to replace them.”

  “I do not believe our engagement was long enough for a dozen,” she had teased and she played with the hair, a bit wet with sweat, on the back of his neck. “And besides, they go back to when we were children, to the first letter I ever received from you, so there are far more than a dozen.”

  “You kept them all?” He had brushed her hair back from her face. “Well, then…Perhaps we should not throw them away.” Before she had been able to question his logic, he had kissed her deeply and all thought went from her head.

  But the next morning, her first official one as a wife, she had reached for him and found the sheets empty but for a piece of paper. She was a bit miffed until she had taken the letter in hand and read it.

  My Beloved Wife,

  To tell you that I love you does not seem enough after last night, now that we are finally together, now that we are finally, and at last, husband and wife. After you fell asleep, I could not stop thinking about the letters and how you have kept them all these years. To think that you kept every letter I have written you is humbling. Until I remember the last letter I wrote to you from Oxford. You said it was time to get rid of them and lying beside you, your dark hair spread between us, I was glad for a moment.

  But then I realized that was all wrong. I know we agreed to start afresh and anew and I believe that we have. I know and trust you believe this too. But we also cannot deny that it took us a long time to get here. It took hard work on both our parts, and plenty of mistakes as well. But I have to believe that God had it planned all along and you have the proof of it in the form of those letters.

  I cannot let my shame over that last Oxford letter destroy our history, because it is so much more than that one moment in time. We have known each other since we were so young. Your words were some of the only ones to comfort me after Reg. I would never have admitted it at the time, but when I was at Eaton, I loved getting a letter from you because I knew you would make me laugh. And later, at Oxford, your letters meant everything to me.

  And we cannot throw that all away. Especially because I know you have forgiven me for the Oxford letter and my behavior during and after that time.

  So what are we to do? I can picture you asking this, even as I write this by candlelight, watching you sleep in what is now our bed. (The thought that we will spend the rest of our days sharing this bed makes me so delirious with pleasure it could easily distract me from my point).

  I think the only thing to do is to keep the letters. But there is a caveat. There is always a caveat when it comes to us. And that is this: I must fill your life with real love letters, to add to the letters you already kept. I will write these for the rest of my life, out of love for you and devotion to the path God has had us on. Think of how fortunate we are to have our history written down. It would be a shame not to finish the story. So I shall write to you as often as I can. I shall write on special occasions and regular days because those are just as important now that we are together.

  So today, I write to you marking our first day as man and wife. I want you to know how very much I love you and I suppose this is where even the letters fall short. I do not have the words to tell you how completely I love you and so I will have to show you, because actions are important, too. I have never been happier in all of my life, nor have I ever felt so complete. I know our lives will not be perfect and that neither you nor I will be perfect because that would be impossible. But there is no one I would rather have by my side.

  I hope your box of letters has room for a lifetime more of my words, even if they fail to articulate the extent my adoration for you.

  Love,

  Your Husband

  He had kept his word after that. He had written on her birthday and their anniversary but also on regular days. Some were short and others were long. But they kept coming, until the wooden box was filled to bursting.

  Dear Jules,

  I came to bed late tonight or I was going to, after going over some of the estate’s accounts. You were curled beneath the covers but you still held a book in your hands, a candle guttering out, as if you were trying to wait for me. I find that every day, I love you more.

  The smallest of things, making the effort to try and wait for me, though I was so late coming to bed, makes my heart beat like I am a schoolboy (and I should know, sin
ce I once was a schoolboy longing for you to smile at me).

  They are things I never imagined you would do or want to do, which shows the lack in me and not in you. It humbles me all the more.

  I am exhausted from all the numbers and figures so before this letter becomes senseless, I must end it. I love you, and I am thankful for you. You know me as no one else in the world does. And as I sat at my desk, watching the hours tick by, toiling over my work that has to do with this house and the surrounding land, I realized I never knew this place could be so happy until you. You have done that. What a treasure you are.

  I love you endlessly.

  Shep

  J,

  Do not even think of moving from this bed when you wake, if you dare to wake before I return. I have a surprise for you.

  S.

  Dear Jules,

  Tomorrow we set out for Pritchford Place to see Cat and Ben’s new baby, and I know we are both excited to see everyone. But for the first time ever in the whole of my life, I will be sad to part from Cunningham.

  That is thanks to you, of course. You have made it a home full of love and laughter and hope. When I think of the halls, I no longer imagine my parents yelling but rather the times I’ve convinced you, leading you by the hand, to come to our bedroom in the middle of the day. I do not hear their yelling in the drawing room anymore but your voice as you read aloud. You have changed everything; you know that, don’t you?

  So as always, I am glad to be going to Pritchford Place. But I will also be glad to return home. And that is because wherever I go, wherever I am, I want you to be with me and I know you want the same. And that changes everything too.

  Shep

  She had kept them all, agreeing with him that they had a duty borne out of love to continue to chronicle their life together now that they were finally together. On the night she told him she was with child, he had drawn her into his arms as quickly as possible. “Are you sure?” he had asked into her hair.

  She could barely breathe in the embrace, but she knew he was as scared as he was happy so she did not complain. “Quite sure and quite healthy. Shep…” She had leaned back to look at his face. “You know everything will be all right.”

  He had pressed kisses to every part of her face and neck he could reach, trying to convince himself of her words. He had begun praying right then and there, asking God to make sure she would survive the pregnancy and for the baby as well. In turn, she had not expected him to be effusive, because she had known of his worries. He had always been honest about them. That night she had held and comforted him, even if his worries went unsaid.

  But the next day, she had found a new wooden box on her vanity with a single letter inside of it.

  Jules,

  I realized something this morning when I woke. I planned to write an apology for my reaction last night, though I know you will say it is unnecessary. But it suddenly occurred to me that our box of letters has grown quite stuffed. It warms my heart to think of it that way, full of our love. And I thought, today, the morning after you have told me the news that you are with child, would be the perfect time to start the first letter of a new box as we begin a new chapter of our lives.

  Last night, you told me that you are with child and I…I am afraid my reaction was not the right one. I am so happy. Please know that. But I am worried too. There is nothing I want more than to have a family with you. I only fear that in between time when so many things can go wrong, things I have seen with my very own eyes. You assured me last night that my reaction was not incorrect. You comforted me when I should have been the one to comfort you! But then we have always promised to comfort one another whenever it was needed.

  So here is the promise I make to God and to you and to myself. I will not worry. I will pray and hold you close and take care of you and wait expectantly for this baby. I will be joyful, not fearful. Sometimes I think the reason it took us so long to make our way to each other was so that God could teach me about the power and the truth in second chances. And he has.

  You will be the best mother. I know this in the same way I could trace your features in the dark, the same way I know the exact color of your eyes, and where to find that freckle on your hip. I want to be a good father. You will have to help me. But we will be all right. I am certain of this.

  Do you know what else I realized? Someday, when we are ninety years old and gray, and pass from this world to the next, asleep in each other’s arms, our children will go through our things. And you know what they shall find? Our love story, written down. It shall be the good and the bad but it shall be truthful. Our children will read it and treasure it and our children’s children. It’s a legacy.

  Thank God for you, Julia.

  Love,

  Shep

  To the Strongest Woman I Know,

  I am writing this as you sleep, our son and daughter tucked into their cradles right beside you. I cannot believe there are two of them! And yet I am glad it was a surprise because I do not think I could have kept my promise not to worry if I had known you were expecting twins. But now they are here and they are perfect and beautiful and you are safe and well and all is right in the world. I cannot express how grateful I am to God and to you for giving me a family.

  I have always known you were strong. Even when we were very young and I tried to tease you to get a rise out of you, I knew it. The truth is, you are much stronger than me. I have known that too. Well, yesterday you proved it. You were an Amazon, a warrior. Thank you for doing the hard work in bringing our children into the world.

  I do not know if you will remember this moment I shall recount now, but I will remember it the rest of my days. I was holding Reggie as you nursed Elizabeth. And Reggie made this little cooing sound. I have never heard anything like it before and he snuggled into my chest. You looked at me, smiling, and you said, “Look at that, Lizzie. Your brother already knows his papa.”

  To think I have a lifetime of moments such as this ahead of me, is an overwhelming ecstasy. And it is you who have given them to me. Thank God for you and thank God for these babies. My love for you is unwavering.

  Thank you,

  Shep

  They stood in their bedroom in Cunningham, wrapped in each other’s arms, baffled that they were parents to twins, yet filled with joy. It felt like the world’s best joke and the best surprise when the midwife had told her she had a son and another baby was still coming. When they had each taken turns holding their son and daughter, she had smiled at him with such contentment and he had returned that smile, just as he did now.

  “I cannot believe how fast they are growing,” she murmured.

  “It is how that happens,” he teased as he kissed her throat. “You feed them and they grow.”

  “Oh, Shep.” She pinched his side as she had since they themselves were children. “In a few months, they will be a whole year old.”

  “Are you crying?” he asked.

  “No,” she sniffled.

  He pressed a kiss to her hair. “They adore their mama.”

  “And their papa, too.” She moved out of his arms to walk toward the bed and turn down the covers. “Did I tell you Jane talked about coming for a visit?” she asked as they readied for bed. They were comfortable with one another and she did not call for a lady’s maid and he did not call for his valet.

  “Did I tell you that John Christopherson wrote to me? He is much come up in the world.”

  “How so?” she asked curiously.

  He yawned. The twins had worn them both out. “I will show you the letter in the morning. You will hardly believe it. I can hardly believe it myself.”

  Julia whistled as they both snuggled beneath the covers and then moved to the middle of the bed toward one another. “Well. I wonder if Jane knows. The last time I asked her about him, she did not want to speak of him. I do not believe she has heard from him in sometime. Though it is obvious she has feelings for him.” She shrugged then grinned up at him. “Are you glad we are
old and married and settled?”

  “I’ll show you old,” he quipped as he drew her into his arms. “And give John some credit. Sometimes it takes us men longer than you women to figure everything out.”

  “If you say so,” she whispered as she pressed a hand to his heart. “As long as you know that I knew we would be happy long before you did.”

  He did not admit anything. He was too busy kissing his wife.

  In the morning when he woke, there was a letter on the pillow beside him.

  Dear Shep,

  I heard the twins were a terror last night and that you relieved Nanny. She said you did not need to do such a thing and I know you did not. You also could have woken me up, but I also know you will say that I deserved the rest as you always do, which hardly seems fair but I will not argue about it with you because that is not the point of this note…or should I say, letter.

  That you are the kind of man who would relieve Nanny, who would want to rock his children himself, fills me with such an overwhelming love. I have never doubted your goodness. But dear me, Your Grace, you have surely gone above and beyond any of my expectations as both a husband and a father. I only wanted to tell you because I realized you are always the one doing the telling. I never knew I could be loved so completely by someone, let alone by you, and you make sure there is never a doubt in my mind. I want you to feel that same certainty of my love. I hope you do.