Epilogue
Two months later
“I’m tired of London,” Nathan told Georgy. They were lying in bed, the spring dawn light spilling over them.
“We said we’d stay until May,” Georgy pointed out, idly tracing his nipple with her fingertip.
“Harry doesn’t need us. He’s fitted into society much more easily than I’d have thought possible. He’s invited everywhere. All the mamas are pushing their daughters at him and the young bucks are tripping over themselves to be his friend.”
“Well, it’s irresistible, isn’t it?” Georgy smiled. “The handsome prince, swindled out of his inheritance and now restored. The perfect fairy tale.”
“Well, since he’s got his happy ending now, may we go back to Camberley and enjoy ours?”
Georgy didn’t answer. Her hair was growing fast. Nathan played with the silky strands, admiring the way they glinted in the sunlight.
“Peter will be gone now,” she said. “His boat was leaving at first tide.”
“Hmm.”
“Do you think he’ll be all right?” Her voice was light but she was staring at the ceiling in a fixed way.
Nathan turned on his side to gaze at her serious profile. “He’ll be fine. Osborne’s with him.”
“It’s silly of me,” she said. “But I feel awful for him, losing the estate and title like that. I think I always will.”
It was silly. And kind, and human. And very Georgy. Nathan lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm.
“Don’t feel bad,” he said. “You needn’t.”
She turned and smiled. What a smile. Its curve, its shape, its unique sweetness, the fact that she gave it to him every day.
“Let’s go to Camberley,” he said again. “It’s time I took its new mistress home.”
“All right. You can teach me how to use your telescope. I like the idea of stargazing with you.”
“I like the idea of doing anything with you,” he replied.
She turned over, folding her arms over his chest and resting her chin on them. “Do you? What else shall we do, then?”
“Lots of things. I’ll teach you to ride, for one thing.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not wild about learning to ride.”
“You’ll enjoy it,” he assured her. “Especially if I teach you to ride properly—like a man, I mean. Sidesaddles are such a fiddle-faddle.”
She looked dubious at that. “What else?”
“I’ll take you out on my river, fishing.”
She frowned. “Fishing? Isn’t that rather a masculine pastime?”
“Mm. And maybe we could…climb some trees?”
“Climb some—?” She laughed, eyes bright, and sat up. He admired the bounce of her pretty breasts, and raised one thumb to graze a perky nipple.
“What are you talking about it, Nathan?”
He pretended reluctance to answer. “It’s just that…much as I love you in your gowns, I do have the occasional urge to see you in breeches again.”
“Ah, now we’re getting to truth, I see.” She smiled even more widely, happy and trustful. His wife. His love. He smiled back, helpless to do otherwise and not wishing to, just giving himself up to the marvellous silly joy of it. Happiness, he was discovering, was better than fine wines, excellent tailoring and the very best horseflesh. And happiness was easy with Georgy.
“You have found me out,” he said, sitting up to bring his naked chest against hers, wrapping his arms around her body and leaning forward until their noses touched. “I am nothing but a lecher. Lusting after your perfect …bottom.”
Their laughter-breath mingled as their mouths came together in a soft, soft kiss.
“I think I know how we shall be spending our time at Camberley,” she said when she broke away. “And it won’t be riding. Or fishing. Or even climbing trees.”
“Maybe not,” he murmured, bearing her back down to the mattress. “But make sure you pack your breeches, just the same. There’s a good chap.”
About the Author
Joanna Chambers studied law, became a litigator, married and had two sons before she began writing. She knew she wanted to write since she was eight years old but never seemed to get beyond buying notebooks and sharpening pencils. Fortunately, after about twenty-five years of sharpening pencils, Joanna found her muse when she rediscovered her love of the romance genre.
Joanna lives in Scotland with her family. When not working, cooking, cleaning, packing schoolbags or writing, she can be found with her nose buried in an ebook.
Where no great story goes untold.
The variety you want to read, the stories authors have always wanted to write.
With new releases every week, your next great read is just a download away!
Keep in touch with Carina Press:
Read our blog: www.CarinaPress.com/blog
Follow us on Twitter: www.twitter.com/CarinaPress
Become a fan on Facebook: www.facebook.com/CarinaPress
ISBN: 978-1-4268-9257-8
Copyright © 2011 by Joanna Clark
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.CarinaPress.com
The Lady’s Secret Page 30
