Epilogue

EPILOGUE

“Prepared for this?” Henry asked as he took Isabella’s hand and helped her out of the carriage.

“You seem certain.”

Isabella chewed the inside of her mouth as she stepped down. Rather than letting go of her hand, Henry entwined their gloved fingers together and led her towards the Marquess of Paulbridge’s house. She stared at it uncertainly, not sure what to think of what was now to pass.

The night before, she and Henry had stayed up for hours. They had not lost themselves to passion, but only tenderness. They’d laid in each other’s arms in her bed and talked openly to one another. Henry had told her he loved her again, confessing that, for a while, he just hadn’t been sure what that truly meant. But when she had pulled away from him, he had learnt the truth of it.

“I missed you. So much,” he had whispered.

Isabella felt closer to him now than she had ever been before. She’d apologized repeatedly for distancing herself from him, and he had told her he’d forgiven her without needing to hear her apology. He understood why she did it and was only sorry that he hadn’t proved himself trustworthy enough for her to come to him with the truth at once.

He vowed to change that from now on so there would never be a secret between them. That was why he had brought her to the Marquess of Paulbridge’s house, to see the conversation that was to take place between him and Mary.

“Will she see you?” Isabella asked him as they stood on the front step. “After your last conversation?”

“I somehow don’t doubt she will.”

He knocked on the door, and they were soon shown inside. With hurried bows, they were welcomed into a vast parlor that was decorated so sharply in white that it hurt Isabella’s eyes.

“I think I’ll take Lady Paulbridge’s comments about my own decorating with a pinch of salt,” she whispered.

The Duke laughed deeply and nodded in agreement.

“Henry? Henry, you’re here?” Mary’s voice reached the room.

Isabella turned just as Henry released her hand. They both faced the doorway as Mary stepped inside.

The excitement in her manner disappeared instantly. With her hands pressed against the doorframe, her bright blue eyes darted between Henry and Isabella.

“Oh,” she gasped, then her eyes narrowed at Isabella. The hatred was plain to see.

“If looks could kill,” Isabella said slowly, earning a smile from Henry.

“Then we’d both be dead,” he finished for her.

“Do you think she’s heard yet of my sister’s betrothal?” Isabella continued to speak to him, enjoying watching the shift in Mary’s expression, for it had darkened even further.

“Shall we tell her?”

“You can have the pleasure.”

“A pleasure indeed.” Henry shifted his focus to Mary and cleared his throat. “It has been announced today that Lord Burton and Lady Irene are betrothed. Is that not wonderful news, Mary?” he said, raising his eyebrows. “Surely you will be seconding us on sending our congratulations to the couple.”

Mary said nothing. She stepped into the room, letting her hands drop to her sides. She seemed unsteady on her feet and reached for the nearest chair, clinging to the back, with her fingers turning white.

“They’re to be married,” Isabella emphasized. “So, none of your rumors can hurt my sister now.”

“But…” Mary looked between them. “You told him.” She pointed towards Henry. “That was not the deal.”

“She didn’t tell me, but fortunately, another did. Thank God!” Henry said with loud emphasis, making Mary flinch. “The scales have fallen away from my eyes. I’m beginning to wonder if you ever were a true friend, or if you only wished to manipulate me.” He glared at her openly.

Isabella could see a twitch in Henry’s eyes. It betrayed the depth of his anger and disappointment. Someone he’d thought was a friend turned out to be anything but.

“Henry, please.” Mary adopted a sickly-sweet countenance and rounded the chair, coming towards him.

“As sweet as sugar,” Isabella muttered wryly.

“Just so.” Henry smiled at her words.

“She has poisoned you against me. Can’t you see what this is?” Mary asked.

She went to touch him, but he backed up before she could.

“Don’t touch me,” he snapped. “Enough of your games, your pretenses, all of it. This is the end.”

“End? What end?” Mary looked at Isabella, her manner abruptly shifting. “You did this. Can you not see what you have done? You have driven him away from a true friend!”

“Some true friend,” Henry drawled.

“If that were the case, then I’m glad,” Isabella said, lifting her chin a little higher. “You were not the friend he deserved.”

“I can still harm your sister.” Mary stepped towards her. “Their betrothal may be announced, but no one will take kindly to hearing they rushed things, will they? Especially if I tell them—”

“No more!” Isabella surprised herself with her sharp tone. She’d reached her limit of listening to Mary threatening her sister. “You will not say a word against my sister.”

“Why not?” Mary crossed her arms and lifted her head so high, Isabella thought it a wonder she stayed standing at all and didn’t fall backwards.

“Because if you do, I will talk to your husband.” Henry’s threat cast silence in the room. Mary looked at him, her lips flattening together. “I do not imagine Lord Paulbridge would take kindly to hearing his wife has been trying to seduce me, nor that she involves herself with trying to destroy the reputations of the Earl of Sinclair’s daughters.”

“He wouldn’t believe you,” Mary said so quietly, it was plain she didn’t believe her own words.

“He would.” Henry was firm. “You forget Lord Paulbridge and I used to know each other well. We were friends. We’ve drifted apart, moved on, but I could persuade him to believe me. I do not doubt it.” He strode forwards and offered his hand to Isabella, who took it in an instant, smiling at him. “Leave London, Mary. I think it is wise to do so. Maybe you should follow your husband on his travels for a while or go to his country estate. You’re certainly not welcome here anymore.”

Leading Isabella away, Henry walked to the door. They didn’t give Mary a chance to answer, but Isabella glanced back. She caught a glimpse of Mary’s spine slumping and her body crumpling down into the nearest chair.

She has given up.

The thought filled Isabella with relief. As she and Henry walked out of the Marchioness’s house, a laugh bubbled out of her lips.

“I cannot believe it is at an end,” she murmured. “Do you think she’ll go? Leave London, I mean.”

“I truly hope so.” Henry gestured towards the carriage. “Let’s go home, Bella. I’ve missed you for too long and wish to be alone with you again.” He raised her hand and kissed the back of it.

Isabella found herself nodding eagerly, longing to be alone with him too.

* * *

“Has she gone?” Henry asked, leaning across the settee towards Isabella.

The Duchess tried to hold back her smile but couldn’t.

“Impatient?” she teased him.

He laid a quick peck on her neck. “You have no idea how much.”

She giggled and angled her head, checking that she could no longer see Mrs. Walters through the doorway. They had just finished their tea and discussed some new changes for the house with their housekeeper. As Mrs. Walters left, though, they were alone at last.

“She’s gone.”

“At last.” Henry stood to his feet and pulled her towards him.

“Ah!” Isabella yelped in surprise, but he didn’t hold up. He continued to pull her out of the room, drawing her towards the staircase. “I’m surprised you didn’t take me to the bedchamber the moment we got home.”

“Had Mrs. Walters not been standing on the doorstep waiting for our return, I probably would have.” Henry’s tease had Isabella racing up the stairs after him.

On the landing, they became distracted. Henry pushed her against a wall, parting her lips and caressing her tongue with his own. Reaching up behind his back, Isabella clung to his shoulder blades, holding him down. When he brushed his hips against hers, she moaned into their kiss.

“Now who’s the impatient one?” he teased as he pulled back from their kiss.

“Then… why are we still out here?”

Her question had him reaching for her hand and pulling her off the wall. They sped across the landing again, and Henry took her to his chamber.

They rushed in through the door, and Henry kicked it shut behind them. Isabella backed up, pulling him towards the bed, but they didn’t get that far. Her hands became entangled in his tailcoat, trying to pull it off him. It dropped to the floor, just as he reached for her gown, trying to undo the laces.

“Why are there so many laces on this thing?” he complained.

He spun her round, breaking their kissing so he could see what he was doing.

“To build the anticipation?”

“Such a tease.”

He at last undid the laces and dropped her gown to the floor. She stepped out of it, moving back round to face him, and he collided with her.

They ended up tumbling down to the floor, with Isabella beneath him. They laughed together, his lips moving over hers, stealing kisses in between.

“Well, the night we met again, you fell on top of me,” he whispered. “Seems apt, does it not?” He placed soft kisses on her neck.

“That was an accident!” she protested.

“A happy accident, it turns out.” Sliding an arm under her waist, he rolled the two of them over so he was on his back. Isabella ended up on top of him, straddling him. “Much like this, wasn’t it?” he asked with a wink.

“You are wishing to relive that night?”

“Something like it.”

His voice had become deeper with such huskiness that Isabella reached towards him. Her hands tangled in his waistcoat, pulling at the buttons to release him as he reached beneath the hem of her chemise, pulling it up around her hips. Grabbing her thighs, he adjusted her position a little so she was completely straddling his center.

When she brushed against him, she released a breathy moan, feeling his length beneath his trousers. He went to help her, removing his waistcoat and his shirt. They were tossed to the side, exposing his torso completely.

As she trailed her fingers down his chest and towards his stomach, he reached one hand across her bare thigh and pressed it to her core. The touch was sudden, with a passion that was so instant that she bucked against his hand in surprise. He smiled, clearly knowing the control he had over her and loving that power.

“I think you should be in control today,” he said with mischief, rocking his hips upwards so it moved his hand against her, mimicking what their bodies would soon be doing.

“Me?” she asked in surprise, looking down at him again.

“If you like.”

He moved his hand from her core and laid his hands down on the rug on either side of him, showing she had complete control.

Isabella leaned down and kissed him. His lips moved fast against hers as she reached down, trying to get hold of his trousers flap. She found it and unbuttoned it, then reached beneath and released his length. The first touch had him growling into their kiss. She experimented with a few strokes before she felt him smiling into their kisses, and pulled back.

“You’re rather good at that,” he said as he tipped his head back on the rug, his eyes half-lidded.

She adjusted herself. She’d missed this feeling of being with Henry, and now, knowing the truth of what was between them, that he loved her as she loved him, she didn’t want to hold back.

Releasing his length, she sank on him. As she rolled her hips tentatively, his hands lifted from the rug. His fingers splayed around her corseted waist as if he could not stop touching her. Feeling the power she had, she began to rock her hips back and forth. His lips parted as his eyes opened. They looked at one another the entire time as she moved over him.

Isabella slid her hands down his chest and towards his stomach again, using the support to move faster. The rocking motion of her hips made her core throb in pleasure inside out.

Her movements became frantic, rocking faster, for she just wanted more of that feeling. When she reached the edge, she stilled above Henry. Her body was unable to move anymore, for she was so overwhelmed with a tingling feeling that spread from her core, engulfing her entire body.

Tilting her head back, she whispered Henry’s name before his hands took a firmer hold of her waist. Henry rolled her on her back while still inside her. Taking hold of her knees, he raised them high around his hips and resumed thrusting inside her.

When he neared his climax, Isabella clung to the rug beneath her. She was still tingling from her climax but was now focusing on Henry, thinking of the way he was bucking against her, with his cheeks reddening and his lips parting. She readied herself for him to pull out of her, yet he didn’t. He bucked his hips against her one last time and stilled.

Isabella leaned forwards in amazement, her face coming closer to Henry’s. Not only the sensation of him finishing inside her had startled her, but the act itself surprised her. She stared at him, her eyes running over his face and figure as he came down from his climax. There was sweat beading on the center of his chest, and his eyes found hers as his movements stopped completely.

Placing his hands on either side of her, he leaned down, prompting her to rest her head back on the rug again.

“Surprised you?” he whispered playfully, then pressed his lips to hers.

Intoxicated by that kiss, Isabella raised her hands and buried them in his hair, holding him to her. Their kiss lasted for a good minute before they parted from one another, both still panting as they tried to catch their breath.

“Henry, I don’t understand,” she murmured, shaking her head.

He raised a hand and pushed the loose strands of her dark hair from her forehead. Her hair had become entangled across her face in their lovemaking, and he seemed to take his time with the task, wrapping the tendrils around his fingers before he released them.

“You said… you said you did not wish to have a child. Yet… what just happened—”

“I know.” His smile was so great that she was left tongue-tied. “It was what I wished to talk to you about before, back at the lake, but we ended up speaking of other things instead,” he whispered. “These last few days, I have thought much about what you said in the study, that I was letting my father cast a shadow over my life.”

He lowered himself down a little, resting his elbows on either side of her head to hold himself up. Isabella lowered her hands so she could trail her fingers up and down his back. At the movement, he rocked against her just once. Their connection had her gasping.

“I don’t want that shadow anymore.” Henry shook his head firmly. “None of it. You were right, all that you said. I had my justice, I let him think he had lost what he wanted most in this world, but there’s no reason to continue to carry it with me.”

“You are sure of this?” she asked, needing to hear the words again. “Completely certain?”

“I am.” He nodded. “John is to have a child,” he revealed softly. “Something about hearing those words filled me with contentment I had not known before. I was excited for him. Now, perhaps I long for that excitement myself. That is of course if you’re excited by the prospect too?”

“Can’t you tell?” She wound her hands around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. When they parted, they were both smiling ridiculously at one another. “So, we are going to try for a child?”

“We just tried once, but I’ll happily try again if you like.”

He rolled the two of them together again so Isabella was on top, with her knees on either side of Henry’s hips. As he tilted his hips upwards, rocking their bodies together, Isabella lost all sense of time and thought only of Henry.

Somehow, falling on top of him in that garden had brought her to this moment. If she could go back, despite all the humiliation and embarrassment that had followed, she wouldn’t undo it, not for the world.

She wouldn’t know the happiness she knew now without it.

The End?