by Tamara Gill
“I wanted only to check with you that you’re certain. No matter who was at fault, there have been many hurts between you and Moore. Maybe even more than you’re capable of forgiving entirely. I need to know, before you give yourself to him, that this is what you want. I would hate to see you unhappy in your marriage and be unable to change the situation.”
“Oh, Mama.” Isolde pulled her into an embrace. “Merrick is who I want, who I’ve only ever wanted. I will not be unhappy. If anything, I will be incandescent with joy.”
Her mama’s eyes welled with tears. “As pleased as I am to hear this, the talk about town is very unkind. For some time, maybe even years, you may be seen in a very poor light. Merrick is still in mourning, and you broke an engagement to a very eligible young man. Are you sure this is the path you want to walk along?”
Isolde, with full clarity and sureness, nodded. “I am so very certain. I do not care what Society will say; I know they’re fickle and they will soon move on to some other unfortunate soul. But I will no longer live my life to please anyone but myself and those I love. You may be sure I shall not lose any sleep over what anyone says about our union.”
The duchess smiled, clearly relieved by her words. “Very well, I shall not mention the situation again.” She stood back, looking at her. “You’re so beautiful, my dear. I hope you know how proud of you I am. Perhaps your father acted rashly the night before your wedding, but his main goal was only ever to see you happy. He was always so protective of you all; if his choice to keep you apart from Merrick was wrong, he would be sorry for it. I wish he were here to walk you down the aisle.”
She smiled at her mama, swallowing the lump in her throat at the mention of her dearest father. “Thank you. That means the world to me.”
Alice, who stood silently to the side, watched Isolde with a contemplative look. When her mama and Victoria went to fetch the small posy of flowers, she joined Isolde at the mirror.
“You make a beautiful bride. All of London will be here today to see you marry Moore.” She paused, smiling. “Are you excited?”
Isolde pulled her thoughts back from what the wedding night would entail and how much delight she would have as Merrick tried to get her out of this dress. For the past few weeks, Isolde had made Merrick promise to behave, and he had, damn it. And now, all she could think about was what he had planned for them when they were finally alone.
“You have no idea how thrilled I am that today I marry the man I love. It’s been a long journey for both Merrick and me.” And they deserved their happiness now.
“You must love him very much.”
Isolde met Alice’s gaze before pulling on her ivory silk gloves. “I do. He’s the best of men. The only man for me.”
Alice leaned closer to ensure privacy. “Are you nervous about your wedding night? Moore is even more handsome than he was when you first were betrothed. I should imagine his kisses are most seductive.”
Isolde laughed, feeling heat burst on her cheeks. “That is enough, Alice. You’re teasing is wasted on me, especially as you know I’ve not been the most virtuous fiancée. Now, help with the train of this gown. It’s time to go.”
Victoria came in and passed her a small posy of hydrangeas. “Shall we be off? We don’t want to be late, even though some of the girls this Season have been saying that to arrive at the church late is quite the thing to do.”
Her mama clasped her arms, kissing her quickly, while checking that each of her daughters had all the jewels and required pieces to their gowns to proceed to the church.
“I’m so very happy for you and do believe Moore will treat you well and spoil you as much as you deserve. You will be happy, Isolde. Now, let’s be off.”
“I shall, Mama. I’ll be perfectly content.”
The carriage ride to St James was quick and without incident, which was pleasing. She was determined that nothing would happen that would keep her from marrying Merrick. Not one thing or one person.
Josh greeted them at the steps of the church just as the carriage rocked to a halt. Her little brother grinned down at her as she alighted from the carriage, and taking her hand, placed it on his arm. “You look beautiful, sister.”
Isolde smiled. “Thank you, brother.” They headed toward the double doors that stood closed to the morning sun. From the steps, Isolde could see a few lingering guests entering the church to take their seats, the floating sounds of a piano reached them each time the door opened.
“Is Moore here?”
Josh chuckled, kissing her cheek quickly. “He’s inside and, I might add, looking extremely nervous. You need to put the poor chap out of his misery and say ‘I do’ before he expires of anxiety.”
She chastised herself at the overwhelming relief that Merrick was inside. It had been a quiet fear, that as much as she’d tried to push away, kept niggling at her mind—that something would happen to keep him from being here this day. That he would change his mind, or some entity would step in and steal him away again.
But no one had stopped the wedding, and now no one would, for they were both here, both eager and ready to commit to their love before God.
Making the church’s threshold, Isolde paused for a moment to allow her sisters to set her dress before the long walk down the aisle to Merrick would commence. The pianist started to play and, with a flourish fitting for a duke’s daughter, the double doors were opened and the congregation stood.
The other guests faded in Isolde’s vision, for at the end of the aisle stood Merrick, the radiant affection beaming from his handsome face. Tears welled in her eyes at the sight of him, hands clasped and his attention wholly fixed on her.
Coming up beside Merrick, Josh placed her hand on Moore’s arm, and she smiled, laughing as he pulled her overly close to his side, his hand firmly fixed atop hers.
The reverend smiled at them, clearing his throat and looking toward the congregation. “We are gathered here today in the face of this company, to join together His Grace, the Duke of Moore and Lady Isolde Worthingham in matrimony, which is an honorable and solemn estate and therefore is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently and soberly. Into this estate, these two persons present come now to be joined. If anyone can show just cause why they may not be lawfully joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”
Isolde swallowed, waiting to see if anyone dare yell out that the marriage should not go ahead, but silence reigned and she smiled, relieved beyond reason.
The reverend continued. “Who gives this woman to be married to this man?”
Josh stepped forward, his face of serious concentration. “I do.”
Isolde listened and said the appropriate words as the marriage ceremony moved forward with no difficulty.
“I love you,” Merrick said, leaning down to whisper against her ear.
Tears smarted behind her eyes, and she fought not to let her emotions get the better of her. “And I you, forever and a day.”
“And I now pronounce you man and wife,” the priest declared, smiling.
And because shocking the ton once this Season wasn’t enough, Merrick kissed her thoroughly before them all. And just a little bit scandalously, too.
Epilogue
Isolde walked about the grounds of her sister’s Scottish castle and admired its beauty. Elizabeth, who was in her late stages of pregnancy, had invited them to stay at Muirdeen before heading off on their wedding trip.
Merrick and she had left London and its wagging tongues behind, only a day after saying their vows. The gossipmongers were beyond put out over their marriage so soon after her broken engagement to Wardoor and because Merrick had married during his period of mourning. They had decided to break their journey to the Continent by visiting Scotland and the beautiful Highlands. Isolde wanted Merrick to see Avonmore and all its beauty. Furthermore, she wanted to celebrate their nuptials with her sister Elizabeth, who hadn’t been able to attend the wedding so close to her time.
&
nbsp; The heather was in full bloom as Isolde strolled through it, picking it absently as she made her way back to the castle. Lady Lily lay asleep in her arms, her perfect dark eyelashes sweeping across her rosy cheeks. Little William ran about before her, his own bunch of heather gaining size with each passing moment. Isolde looked out over the lands before Muirdeen Castle, a locale that could, she admitted, rival that of her own Scottish estate.
But here at Muirdeen her sister and her dearest little nephew lived, and so it was probably slightly better than Avonmore.
Merrick came out of the castle and gazed about, seemingly looking for her. She made her way over to him, inwardly thanking providence that he was now hers.
“Are you looking for me, Your Grace?” A gust of wind lifted her skirts, and she had to hold them down with her hand lest he see her unmentionables…again. She blushed. “I thought you were tasting whisky today with Henry.” Isolde pulled the knitted blanket about Lily’s face to keep the wind away.
“I’ve partaken in all the whisky I can handle,” he replied, grinning, before he kissed his daughter’s head.
“Really?” That certainly didn’t sound like him.
“No.” He laughed, taking her hand. He lifted it slowly and kissed her palm with a lingering look. His face had day-old stubble around his jaw, and handsome didn’t come close to how he appeared.
“I came to seek you all out. I missed you.”
She went into his arms, reaching up to place a small kiss on his cheek. “We missed you, too. But it’s been only about three hours since I saw you last, and William has been keeping me company. Haven’t you,” she stated, catching her son’s eye.
“I have, Father, and look,” William said, foisting a posy of heather toward his papa. “I have heather for Lily. I’m going to have Nanny put it in her room until you return from your trip.”
Isolde noted Merrick’s proud stare. “You’re a good boy, and I hope you behave for Auntie Elizabeth and Uncle Henry. If you do, we shall bring lots of presents back for you both.”
William started to hop on the spot, his eyes bright with excitement. “Will you, Papa? Oh, can I have a toy theater? I read about one, or at least Nanny did in one of your papers, and I would love to put on a play for you all.”
“You’ll have to wait and see,” Merrick said, ruffling his son’s hair, who went back to picking heather, a smile breaking across his delightful face.
Isolde caught Merrick’s gaze, and they stood looking at each other for a moment before Beth waddled out of the castle doors, waving them over.
“Your Grace, how very kind of you to leave my husband asleep and snoring in the library. And that he smells of liquor tells me you enjoyed your visit to the distillery.”
Isolde laughed as Merrick tried to look contrite. “Do forgive me, Lady Muir. I did try to curtail our partaking of the drink, but it really is very good whisky. The best I’ve ever tasted, in fact.”
Beth laughed and gestured for them to come inside. “Come, dinner will be served in the next hour, and we should get changed. Nanny has a bath ready for the children, also. And if I’m not in the dining room on time, please come looking in the library, for I’m surely still trying to wake my husband.”
Isolde laughed and taking Merrick’s hand, proceeded indoors and headed toward their room upstairs. They bade the children good night, but not before undressing William and depositing him into the bath. Isolde kissed both children before making her way to her room. The castle’s old stone staircase circled about, and coming to the second floor, they walked along the long passageway, both quiet with their own thoughts.
Isolde’s maid, Fanny, dipped into a curtsy when Isolde dismissed her for the night, smiling at Merrick as the young woman’s face lit up at the kind gesture.
Merrick stood beside the dressing table, slowly undoing his cravat when his gaze lifted and their eyes met in the mirror.
Pleasure spiked through her as she watched him. Watched as he looked at her like a lion looked at its prey. Ravenous and without remorse.
“Do you need help with your cravat, Your Grace?”
His eyes darkened with passion and butterflies took flight in Isolde’s stomach. “I’ve got this.” He turned and strode over to her but not touching her, just stood there, undressing himself before her and teasing her senses.
“I’ve thought about having you to myself in this room all day.” His whispered words sent spirals of desire coursing through her blood.
The room was shadowed in the afternoon light, twilight upon them in this part of the world and, with the small windows that the rooms had, shadows danced in every corner.
Merrick’s lips came down hard on hers, and she clutched at his shoulders, wanting, needing to be as close as she could.
His tongue swirled with hers, and need, hot and heavy, buckled her knees. “We have only an hour, my love,” she gasped as he ground against her.
He groaned. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”
…
Merrick had to have her. Now. Pain tore through his body at the thought of stopping. It was too late for that. He picked her up, and she wrapped her legs about his hips. Her heat scorched him. Her body, open and willing, made him wild with need.
He strode toward the door, the closest purchase he could find, and pushed her up against the wood paneling. She fumbled with the front falls of his breeches until they were together, skin on delicious skin, body against aching body. He slid against her center, feeling her readiness and inflaming his own.
“You’re so beautiful. I want you so badly it hurts.”
Their gazes met, and it slammed into him how much she was enjoying herself. The wild urgency he read in her gaze drove him to distraction, and he had to take a deep breath lest he lose control and disgrace himself against her slick heat.
“I have to have you, too.”
Merrick took her with little finesse. She gasped, her eyes closing slowly in ecstasy. His hands slipped about her ass, holding her against him as he relentlessly pumped into her hot core. The door creaked behind them, their labored breaths forgotten as they lost themselves in each other.
“Oh yes. Merrick,” Isolde gasped, her hands wrapping about his neck and holding him close. “Don’t stop.”
He couldn’t. She was the perfect fit for him. The moment she came, her body clamping around him and pulling him toward his own pleasure, was too much. He didn’t stop, just took her again and again as she climaxed in his arms, her moans muffled by a kiss.
“Would you be averse to eating in our room this evening?” He nibbled her neck and steadied her when she wobbled in his arms.
She met his gaze, grinning. “Not at all. That sounds perfect.”
He slid his hand about her breast, and she shivered in his arms. Always so willing, so loving and responsive to his touch. How he loved her and all that she was. “What will your sister think of us missing dinner? You’re turning into a scandalous wench.”
She kissed him, her hand sliding down his stomach to his nether region, helping him place it back into his pants. He gritted his teeth, enjoying the moment far more than she’d ever know. “Careful love, or I’ll not allow you to leave this room ever.”
Again she drove him to distraction, her soft kisses against his neck sending delectable shivers down his spine. “Then my work here is done.” She smiled up at him. “I do believe I’ll enjoy being locked up in this castle room with you. How long do you think we could remain just so?”
“Forever, if I had my way, but alas, I received word that our ship to France will dock next week and so I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but we’ll be leaving the delightful Highlands for the Continent sooner than you thought.”
Her eyes widened with surprise and excitement. “France. I cannot wait even that long.”
“And Switzerland, followed by Italy. I want to explore the world with you, make up for the time we lost.”
She reached up, hugging him close. “Oh, thank you, Merrick, for fighti
ng for me, for loving me as much as you do. I cannot imagine my life without you, William, or Lily now.”
Merrick picked her up and strolled over to the bed. “Nor I, and you’re most welcome, the pleasure is all mine.”
She threw him an impish grin. “And mine, too,” she said as he kissed her soundly. They did not make the dinner, as planned.
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Acknowledgments
First and foremost, I’d like to thank my family, who, through the edits of this book suffered a sleep deprived mother and wife, and terrible, terrible meals some days. Thank you guys for supporting me and putting up with your weird mum and wife. I love you.
I’d also like to thank a group of women who support and offer friendship every day, my Unicorns. You guys are my writing world rock and I don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes.
Also, my editor Erin Molta, who I’m so fortunate to be working with now. I’ve learnt so much already from you in the last few months, which I’m so grateful for. I love that you’re supportive and always there to help or answer questions. I look forward to working with you and Entangled in my publishing journey.
Lastly, but certainly not least, my readers—your support, reviews, and social media interaction keep me going and push me each and every day of the year. I hope you enjoy Only a Duke Will Do as much as I loved writing Isolde and Merrick’s story.
About the Author
Tamara is an Australian author who grew up in an old mining town in South Australia, where her love of history was founded. So much so, she made her darling husband travel to the UK for their honeymoon, where she dragged him from one historical monument and castle to another. A mother of three: her two little gentlemen in the making, a future lady (she hopes), and a part-time job keep her busy in the real world, but whenever she gets a moment’s peace she loves to write romance novels in an array of genres, including regency, medieval, and time travel. Tamara loves hearing from readers and writers alike. You can contact her through her website, and sign up to follow her blog or newsletter.
