Epilogue

Monday, 6 November 1826

Kirkstone Abbey, Westmoreland

Dearest Kit,

I was extraordinarily pleased to receive your letter, which wended its way up from London with excruciating slowness, even given the speed of the Royal Mail these days. Some of the problem is that while the year has been unusually warm and dry for most of the summer and autumn, winter has found us early, dropping snows on the fells that melted quickly and turned rivers to mud and roads to slogs. News I am sure you will relish there in the heat and steam of the equator.

I am glad too that you and Beth arrived safely, despite a churning voyage, and I pray Beth will soon be delivered of a healthy child. I did worry about illness and am grateful you have not contracted anything serious as of this writing. Also encouraging is your news that Mattie and Joshua are thriving, adjusting to the new climes with enthusiasm. I do believe Mattie could make a place for herself anywhere on the globe.

As to us finding a place, I know you had doubts about us relocating to Kirkstone Abbey, but Thad has charmed Mother—although I do not know how—and seems to be thrilled with an estate life of animals, mud, and surly tenants. I worried what mood might overtake him once the isolation of winter settled in, but he spends a great deal of time with the ponies and in the library. He has also begun to write during the long evenings by the fire. I tease him about competing with Mr. Wordsworth, which he takes in stride. While his work is not of that caliber—yet—his words have found their way to publication in a few places. His desire to provide a source of income still charms me, despite how well we live on that of this estate.

Mina has grown with astounding strength, and she has begun babbling words and pulling up to walk about, as long as someone holds her hands. Which Thad does often, encouraging her even more than I do, much to the dismay of Mother, who believes such things should be left to Nanny. Although it amuses and pleases her that Mina has begun to call Thad “papa.”

Although he may soon become “papa” to his own child as well. While I have not told him yet, as I have only missed one month, I will have by the time you receive this.

Marrying Thad and leaving London have been the best decisions I have ever made. I know I have made grievous errors before, but these were not the same. Being away from his family, away from being seen as “hopeless,” has allowed Thad to thrive, and I had forgotten how much I love the fells and vales of this place. Our “fondness” for each other has grown into something much deeper and far more satisfying. Thad only misses George, who visited us often at Kirkstone House after you left, and he has come to the Abbey once in late summer. He did not find this place alluring, but he understands why Thad has been so happy here.

I do miss you and Beth. Now that I have your instruction, I will write often to remind you that even the youngest of fools can eventually gain wisdom.

Your ever-loving sister,

Mary

Mary folded the letter, sealed it, and set it aside for the mail, which now came to the Abbey only once a week. She would probably write Kit again before this one went out, but she felt relieved to write out this much of the last few months’ events. Thad had taken almost a month to heal, and they did not consummate their marriage until June, a memory always guaranteed to make Mary smile as well as firing a desire for her husband again.

As it did now.

But she wondered if the six weeks following their wedding did not allow their affection with each other to deepen. They had talked for hours—she had seldom left his bedside as he recovered—learning the most intimate details. And long before he had healed enough for true consummation of the marriage, Mary had discovered how much he enjoyed her touch, her soft caresses. In return, he had explored her body with his hands in ways that made her crave him in ways both startling and thrilling.

And in those six weeks, his parents had not visited once. Nor had they responded to her notes inviting them and providing news of his recovery. His youngest sister came, a wraith of a girl who looked as if a strong wind would put flight to her, but she had been horrified by her brother’s condition—making no secret of it—and had fled after fifteen minutes.

Thad had gone silent, morose, for four days. The abandonment of his sister—his last true tie to his family—had waylaid him in a way more profound than the beating from Bully’s men. He stopped eating, and not even a visit from George had cheered him.

That’s when Mary suggested they move to Kirkstone Abbey. Thad agreed, reluctantly, all enthusiasm having drained from him.

The mere logistics involved in closing the townhouse and moving both their lives to the Abbey had boggled them, and their lives calmed again only after several weeks. They had snipped and hissed at each other, and taking separate bedchambers had allowed each to find their own minds again—although they mostly stayed in hers at this point.

Tapping her note to Kit again, Mary left the front parlor and wandered down the corridor toward the library. Empty. Upstairs, she checked her bedchamber, only to find Raleigh and a chambermaid tidying the room.

“Have you seen Lord Thaddeus?”

Raleigh shook out Mary’s night rail and dressing gown and draped them over one arm. “I believe he went upstairs, my lady.”

Mary thanked her, then paused, gesturing around the room. “Um, will this take much longer?”

Raleigh blinked, then smiled. “Only a few more minutes, my lady.”

Mary returned the grin. “Thank you.”

As expected, Mary found Thad in the nursery, sitting in a rocker with Mina on his lap and a book braced in front of them. Nanny, a lovely woman who had cared for Mina before they had all decamped for London last December, sat in one corner, knitting and occasionally shaking her head at Thad.

As Mary approached, she realized that Thad was reading from Tommy Thumb’s Pretty Song Book , his voice moving through the rhymes with a soft sing-song rhythm. Mina, leaning against his chest with one thumb in her mouth, blinked sleepily, her breathing even and her eyelids drifting lower with each blink. When they finally opened no longer and her lips went slack, Mary carefully lifted the book away, and Thad stood, cradling Mina against his body as he moved to lay her down. He stood, gazing down at her as Mary set the book on a low table, then took Thad’s hand. They both nodded at Nanny, then left the nursery, closing the door softly behind them.

In the hall, Thad let out a deep sigh of relief. “She’s been fussy the last couple of days. Nanny thinks she may be getting more teeth.”

Mary urged Thad toward the staircase. “Could be. And she is probably bored. She misses her pony rides.”

“I still cannot believe you put her on a horse so soon.”

“Father held me in front of him when I could barely sit up.”

“You do not remember that.”

Mary grinned. “No, but Mother has tales galore. You would think he was trying to kill us instead of getting us used to horses.” She pulled on his hand again.

“Where are we going?”

“To my—our bedchamber.”

He stopped, peering down at her. “It is ten o’clock in the morning.”

“Yes. I have something I want to talk about, and I want no one overhearing.”

“You know that the servants hear when we—”

“Oh, I know.” She squeezed his hand, pulling him toward the stairs again. “What was it you said to me that first night you were able to, um, ‘complete’ our marriage? When I was so surprised by what you knew?”

His low laugh thrilled Mary to her core. “I believe I said, ‘I am without experience, not without knowledge.’ And I already knew a great deal about what pleased you.” He paused and kissed her temple.

“And I accused you of only reading about it.” They took the first steps down.

“As opposed to having followed George around for ten years. George, who had plenty of experience and could not stop talking about it. In great detail.”

“Thank you, George.”

Thad paused on the landing and took both her hands. “I had almost convinced myself you would not enjoy it. That your previous—”

Mary put a finger to his lips. “I know. But you washed all that away. Your gentleness, your touch, was like nothing that happened before.”

“Oh, my love.” With a sudden motion, Thad scooped Mary up, holding her tight against his body. She squealed and put her arms around his neck, giggling as he carried her down the stairs, pushing the half-open door open with his foot.

Mary glanced around quickly. They were alone, but she laughed out loud when she realized the bed covers had been turned back, the pillows plumped and braced against the headboard.

Thad followed her gaze. “What—”

“I warned Raleigh.”

He looked down at her. “You warned your maid that you were about to ravish me?”

She giggled again. “Yes. I told you I wanted privacy.”

Thad backed against the door to close it, then he released her knees, letting her feet slide to the floor, and his hands cupped her face, as he always did, a gesture so familiar and tender that it always made Mary’s heart race. From the very first moment he had reached for her, every touch, every caress had been an act of worship, as if nothing existed in his life in this moment but her.

Thad stroked her cheeks, drawing her closer, his lips brushing hers before his tongue pressed against them. Mary parted them, welcoming him in, and Thad pressed her hard against him, his tongue exploring her mouth with a thoroughness that sent fire lacing down her body. She ran her hands up his chest, along his shoulders, and into his hair, her fingers entwining in the curls.

Thad moaned—how he loved her fingers in his hair—and his hands left her face, moving down to cup her breasts. Breaking the kiss, he took her shoulders and turned her away from him. His fingers nimbly moved over the laces on her dress, even as he tilted his head to kiss her neck, his teeth making tiny nips along the skin. As the back of her dress opened, Mary shrugged it forward, pulling the bodice down and releasing the skirt, letting it all flutter down to a puddle on the floor.

Thad stripped off his coat, tossing it on top of the dress, then began to tug on the laces on her stays. As they also slipped free and followed the dress to the floor, Thad traced his fingertips lightly over her shoulders, playing at the edge of her chemise. Mary shivered as her nipples hardened and her stomach tightened as her breathing became ragged.

“Are you cold, my love?” His breath whispered along her spine.

“I am . . . anything . . . but cold.”

Mary could feel his smile on her shoulder. Moisture gathered between her thighs, and Thad’s butterfly touches moved down over her shoulders and back, his hands resting with a warm caress of her bottom. He kissed her neck again, whispering, “I want to see you.”

She turned to face him, her fingers pulling at the ribbon tie of her chemise. As it loosened, she pushed it off her shoulders, letting it shimmer to the floor with the rest of her garments. She stood before him, bare, as his gaze traveled over her, hair to ankles, a long, low moan easing out of him.

She shivered again, but definitely not from a chill.

This had been almost impossibly difficult for Mary in the beginning, this acceptance that he adored looking at her, bereft of clothes. She had always been somewhat ashamed of her form, with its heavy breasts and too round hips. After Mina, her distaste for her body had increased, given the round pouch of her stomach, which had never gone away, and the thickness of her thighs.

Thad, however, had always looked at her with desire and adoration, as if she were a queen, a goddess, a...

“My perfect angel.”

Mary’s eyes blurred with tears. Thad’s expression softened, and he stepped to her, kissing each eye, brushing away the moisture with his thumbs. Only once had she protested this description, and he had scolded her, proceeding to demonstrate exactly how perfect he thought her to be. She had not complained again.

His fingertips roamed over her shoulders and down her breasts, resting for a moment on her taut nipples, rubbing them as they hardened further, her arousal spreading through her like warm wine, mesmerizing and exotic. Then his hands trailed down her belly and her thighs as he bent to kiss and suckle her nipples. Mary groaned, her desire for him now building into a roiling heat that spread through her, tensing her muscles and increasing the wetness in the soft folds of her sex.

Thad touched the top of each thigh, his gesture that she should spread her legs. She did, bracing her hands on his shoulders as his fingers parted her, exploring deep within as his bites on her nipples hardened. Mary gasped for air, her need for him spinning through her, and she let her head fall backwards as he released her breasts, knelt, and lifted one leg and braced her knee over his shoulder.

As he blew soft streams of air over her slit, Mary clutched the cloth of his shirt. “I am going to fall.”

He kissed her mound. “I will not let you.” Then his tongue plunged into those swollen folds, the soft firmness urging her toward euphoria.

“Thad!”

He stood quickly, sliding both arms around the top of her thighs, lifting her. His wiry strength had always astonished Mary. She was not light, but he always lifted her as if she were barely more than one of his hats. He carried her to the bed, letting her ease down on the pillows, his hands tracing over her again, pinching her nipples and massaging the flesh between her thighs with determination and devotion.

Standing up, Thad stripped out of his own clothes, and Mary sighed, then grinned at the sight of his hard cock as it sprang free from his trousers. Thad’s body, with its lean, taut muscles, flat and solid torso, and firm, round buttocks had always captivated her—so different from what she had known before. His movements were efficient and driven, his cock hardening easily. And, to her, it was magnificent, from the glorious reds along its length and tip, to the rigid yet velvety girth when erect.

“Ah,” he whispered. “You like what you see.”

She laughed. “Always. You are beautiful.”

With a mischievous grin, he crawled onto the bed, his arm and legs tight as he held himself over her. “And what do you think I should do with this beauty.”

“Fuck me,” she said, her voice firm. “I need you to fuck me until we both scream to the high heavens.”

His eyes glistened. “No wonder the servants know when we—”

“Fuck me, Thad. Now.” She licked her lower lip. “Please.”

Thad’s expression turned tender. “I will never, ever deny you, my love. Anything.”

And with that, he settled between her legs, guiding the tip of his cock into her cunt, the entrance slow as he spread her, watching her closely as Mary accepted him in, relishing the pressure, the momentary discomfort, the growing pleasure as he penetrated deep. He never, ever looked away from her face as he took her, and in this moment, Mary cherished this more than ever, her fingernails grazing over his back as he thrust into her, slowly at first, then building in speed and depth. She clutched his hair as her peak was building, begging him for more.

Thad shifted abruptly, leaning on one elbow, his other hand cupping her bottom, changing his positions, pulling her tighter into each thrust. Mary’s climax shattered through her as she cried out, clinging to him. After a few more thrusts, Thad groaned, and Mary felt his release as well, the flooding wetness of both of them filling her and overflowing. With a final thrust, he sank into her with a low moan, collapsing, his entire weight pressing her into the bed.

Mary relished this moment, this intimacy, the feel of his body on hers a deep reassurance of his presence, his love. He had been hesitant at first to do this, to—as he put it—squash her—but she had clung to him then as she did now, holding him with all her strength.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I want to give you everything. Every desire.”

After a moment, after he had regained his breath, Thad lifted his head and peered down at her, concern narrowing his eyes. “Are you all right, my love?”

She nodded, brushing his hair away from his face. “I did not know it was possible to care for someone as much as I do you. And you cannot know what it means to me that you have taken me as I am. Taken Mina as your own. But I have always wanted to give you your desires as well.”

He eased out and off of her, settling at her side. He rested one hand on her belly, his thumb stroking the skin. “Mary. Love. You have already—”

“I think I am with child.”

Thad stilled, his gaze frozen on her face. Then, slowly, like a bird spreading its wings to take flight, his hand on her stomach spread, his long fingers covering her almost from hip bone to hip bone. He swallowed hard but remained silent.

“I have only missed one month of my courses. But I feel as I did with Mina, which means I may be sick in the mornings. I did not want you to—”

He kissed her, as thoroughly and passionately as he ever had, lips firm, tongue pushing in hard. He folded her into his arms, as if trying to press every inch of his body against hers. Not a kiss of desire, not a kiss of arousal. This was a kiss of devotion, gratitude, permanence.

Unable to catch her breath, Mary finally pushed against him, pulling back to whisper, “I cannot breathe.”

Thad laughed, a low, joyous sound. “I have waited for this, for you, for so long.”

Mary stroked his face. “Only a few more months, my love, then you will wait no more.”

He pulled her close once more. “Believe me, it was worth the wait. You are worth the wait.”