Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Jane stoodnext to Richard in front of a priest dressed in a long white robe embroidered with gold and silver threads. The sun streamed through the stained glass windows, casting brilliant colors over the congregation. Behind Jane and Richard, the men wore long dark coats, and the women were dressed in white or pale-colored gowns, their bonnets decorated with lace, white flowers, and feathers.

White roses, sweet peas, and peonies filled the church with a sweet fragrance mixed with the deeper notes of incense. Bouquets were placed at the end of each pew, and the women wore corsages, the men boutonnieres. Even the altar had been decorated with flowers.

Jane’s side of the church was a collage of familiar faces, touched by life’s hardships but resilient and vibrant in their shared joy. Her brother, Thorne, broad and imposing, wore a smile that softened his stern features, his companions, Brace, Tristan, and Morgan, sharing in his uncharacteristic merriment.

Atticus, Reuben, and Ruby each carried the humble authenticity of their Whitechapel roots, their patched and mended clothes contrasting with the grandeur of the church but not diminishing their spirits. Jane’s pupils, including Alfie, Lily, and Peter, attending with their parents, all wore sweet smiles, excitement and amazement coloring their faces.

On Richard’s side, the ornate grandeur of London’s high society was on full display. The shimmering fabrics and exquisite tailoring of their attire reflected their privileged lifestyle. Richard’s family—Preston with his perfectly tailored tailcoat, Penelope and Calliope in their beautiful gowns, and Grandmama in one of Mrs. Newman’s stunning creations that respected her age while complementing her features—wore smiles of joy and approval.

Sebastian and Emma, amid other impeccably dressed ladies and gentlemen, presented an elegant picture. The sparkling jewels, embroidered shawls, and artfully arranged coiffures vied for attention, creating a dazzling display of wealth and status.

Yet, despite the stark contrast between Jane’s and Richard’s worlds, there was an unmistakable harmony in the air. A sense of mutual respect bridged the gap, threads of love and curiosity weaving both sides together. Grand ladies exchanged warm smiles with Whitechapel mothers. Richly dressed gentlemen nodded to Thorne and his men. The affluent and the modest alike basked in the joyous union of Jane and Richard. An unexpected camaraderie was blossoming, paving the way for friendly interactions and shared laughter.

Reverend Philips coughed and asked Jane and Richard to repeat their vows after him. Jane knew hers by heart.

With her hands shaking, she turned to Richard and met his wonderful blue eyes. He was so handsome in his black coat with its high-standing collar and the crisp, intricately knotted cravat at his neck. He had a boutonniere of a white rose that resembled the corsage on her dress.

His eyes practically glowed as he watched her, and she was sinking into them, knowing no one else existed for him in this moment but her. And she felt the same.

“I, Jane Grant,” she said, staring into his eyes, the words coming easily from her heart, “do take thee, Richard Seaton, to be my wedded husband. I hereby make a solemn promise to love and honor you until death do us part.”

The guests had become so quiet that even the shuffling of feet and rustling of clothing sounded loud in her ears. Her heart beat fast and steady in her chest, as, against all norms of behavior and under the disapproving glare of the reverend, Richard reached out and took her hands in his. A jolt of awareness and warmth spread through her at his touch, and she beamed up at him. She had gotten addicted to the feel of him against her body. As long as he touched her, she felt peaceful and calm.

That was what it felt like to belong.

His eyes glistened as he looked deeply into hers and replied softly, “I, Richard Seaton, do take thee, Jane Grant, to be my wedded wife. I hereby make a solemn promise to love and honor you until death do us part.”

Jane smiled, her eyes blurring with tears.

The priest raised his hands. “The scripture tells us that ‘Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.’ May this divine love always guide your paths. May the Lord bless you and protect you. May the Lord smile upon you and be gracious to you. May the Lord show you his favor and give you his peace. From this day forward, you walk together. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, I bless your union. I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

The congregation erupted in cheers, Hercules barking joyfully at Thorne’s feet. Richard’s grin made her smile from ear to ear. Through the cacophony of bellowing and shouts, Richard leaned to her and whispered, “I love you.”

“And I love you,” she replied.

“Heavens, I want to kiss you,” he murmured.

“Me, too.” She quickly glanced at the priest. “But don’t. Or you will give Reverend Philips a palsy.”

He chuckled. Soon, Jane and Richard walked out of the church, hand in hand, and into fresh London air. Green parks were visible across the bustling street full of horse-drawn carriages, with lines of brown and red brick buildings on both sides. Their guests stood in two rows and showered them with rose petals. Jane squealed happily, leaning into Richard’s strong shoulder.

When they returned to Sumhall, where their wedding breakfast was to be held, the guests followed them promptly. The dining room was lit up brightly with the sun. Jane and Richard greeted their guests as they arrived, thanking them for coming. The food was plentiful, with the finest delicacies having been prepared for the wedding.

The huge wooden buffet table stood in the middle of the grand dining room. Thin slices of ham and bacon, omelets, different types of bread, five varieties of jam, smoked salmon, fried codfish, and a plate full of fruit—apples, oranges, peaches, and cherries, most of them, no doubt, imported—were arranged in a ring around fresh-baked pies. A brown-and-yellow pear tart was flanked by cherry tarts with their lattice crusts covered in powdered sugar. There were also cold cuts of roast beef and chicken breast.

Jane’s and Richard’s things were already packed for them to leave right after the reception for their honeymoon in Grandhampton Court. Hercules, of course, would come with them. Like Richard had said in the beginning, the dog needed fresh air and to run around in nature chasing squirrels and rabbits. After they returned, they would move into Richard’s house, which his papa had left him for when he would marry and start a family.

All the Seatons were present, as well as Penelope’s papa and her cousin Alexandria.

And Jane could barely stop smiling. This was the family she’d always ached for. Completeness washed over her with a warm, tingly wave. She felt vast and light, as if she could hug the whole world.

When Richard talked to Thorne and Preston, the conversation seemed to flow quite easily and peacefully…as if they hadn’t almost shot at each other just two days ago. Relieved that her new husband and her brother seemed to be on better terms, Jane stood next to the window with Calliope and Sebastian.

“Sebastian, perhaps you have some connections with the navy?” asked Calliope. “I tried asking around but am getting nowhere. Time is passing quickly, and we must do something to find Spencer.”

Sebastian chuckled as he threw a quick glance at Richard and Preston. “Preston told me about the press-gang. I am sure your brothers are in a much better position to lead this kind of investigation. Besides, I’m quite certain they wouldn’t want me to do anything to encourage you.”

Jane and Calliope exchanged a glance. Of course Sebastian wouldn’t want to.

“Calliope already knows a gentleman,” said Jane to Sebastian. “She can just go and find him. She doesn’t need her brothers’ approval for that.”

Sebastian’s face fell. “What gentleman?”

“The Duke of Kelford,” said Calliope with a glint in her eye.

“The Duke of— Is that who you danced with at the royal ball? No, Calliope. Your brothers will put him in an early grave. He’s a scoundrel!”

Calliope shrugged. “All I care about is getting information.”

Sebastian shook his head. “All right. But you must promise to call on him with Preston or me present.”

Calliope nodded. “I promise.”

Sebastian sighed. “You’re in luck. I know Kelford and have, indeed, heard through mutual acquaintances he is assigned to the Conscription Office.”

A mischievous smile spread on Calliope’s face. “Well, isn’t that a marvelous coincidence…”

Jane stared at her. The dashing blond gentleman had pretty much swept Calliope off her feet, while she was usually calm and collected. A twitch of worry for her new friend churned in her stomach.

“Calliope, you will go with Preston or Sebastian, won’t you?” asked Jane. “Please?”

“Certainly!” Calliope gave a dismissive shrug of her shoulder.

But that didn’t ease Jane’s concerns at all for some reason.

A wonderfully warm and heavy hand landed on the small of her back.

“May I steal you, love?” Richard’s silky voice brushed against her ear.

“You most certainly may,” she said as she turned to him. “Husband.”

He chuckled and looked at Calliope and Sebastian. “Excuse us, please.”

Then he took her by the hand and led her out of the dining room and into the sitting room, which was, for now, empty. He closed the door and locked it, then spun her around and brought her to him with a whoosh. The feel of his hard body against hers, the scent of his cologne—sandalwood and pepper—wrapping around her felt like a homecoming.

“Finally, I can kiss you,” he said.

He leaned in, his lips just inches from hers, waiting. She closed her eyes and lifted her face, then their lips touched. The butterflies in her stomach came to life, and her knees buckled, but his strong arms held her.

His kiss was gentle and sweet at first, sending shivers up her spine. His tongue caressed hers, their kiss deepening in intensity.

Jane wrapped her arms around his neck, and he walked her back until she reached the wall. His lips tasted of tea and strawberries. She drew her fingers through his luscious, silky hair as her whole body kept saying yes, yes to him. Yes to his touch. Yes to his soul. Yes to being one.

Then he left her lips and was kissing her jaw, down her neck, to her neckline, and her breasts.

She gasped, unable to think anymore, basking in pure pleasure. How could she have a single thought when he was licking and tugging her breasts out of her dress and out of her corset, and she could feel his lips on her flesh, gentle and reverent?

Then his tongue flicked around her nipple once, twice, sending the most delicious jolts of pure sweetness through her. And how could she do anything but make a surprised, astounded “oh” when he put her nipple right into his mouth and sucked on it?

She melted as a wave of tingling warmth rushed through her body, weakening her whole being, making her as pliable as warm wax.

The apex between her legs felt hot and aching. A small surge of wetness released from her sex, and she squirmed, relieved to know now that this was a sign of her readiness.

Her insides squeezed, wanting for his long, hard erection to enter her, stretch her, take her just like that night.

She hooked her leg around his waist and rubbed herself against him, feeling his length, hard and very hot and pressing against his pantaloons. When she rubbed herself against it, she felt such pleasure, she began whimpering and moaning like an animal. He did also, growling like a wolf, moving his hips up and down, bringing her even more pleasure. Faster…closer…

“Jane…” he growled. “You’ll be my undoing.”

He moved to her other breast and began licking her nipple.

With a glint in his eyes, he left her breasts and sank to his knees.

“Richard?” she asked.

But there was a rustle of her skirts and the feel of her petticoats being lifted and dragged up her legs.

“What are you doing?” she asked, alarmed.

Surely he wasn’t going to…

But he was. His hands went up her inner thighs and spread her hips. He put one of her legs over his shoulder, and she could feel his hot breath on her sex.

“Richard!” she called.

This was something forbidden. Something exciting. Something she had never imagined.

“Shh, love,” he murmured as he spread her folds with his fingers, and she clenched from the pleasure of it, the audacity of it. “I want to bring you the highest pleasure, my wife.”

And then his lips were there…right there! And there was a sweet, intense pleasure that almost made her cry out.

His tongue began to slowly drag between her folds, up and down and around, stroking against every hidden corner of her, every intimate place. She gasped, absorbing it, melting in it.

Pleasure built in her, right there. Her fingers dug into his hard, broad shoulders. She leaned back against the cold wall, but she felt like she was flying, suspended in the air.

And then his tongue found that beautiful spot somewhere in the center of her, which he began to flick…over and over…and then lick and suck again and again…

And then there was something else…a finger that nudged its way inside her, right where she ached and needed it the most. He deepened it, hooked it, and started to stroke inside her over and over in a spot that made her weak and warm.

“Heavens, how tight and sweet you are…” he whispered against her.

And then that finger moved inside her, twirling around and around. Doing something that made her hips move, shamelessly rubbing herself against his finger, against his lips and his tongue as pleasure built within her, higher and higher, hotter and hotter.

Tighter and tighter.

She was moving somewhere, to that beautiful spot, higher, closer, there… Somewhere in the world of explosions of sweet pleasure and contractions and waves rolling over her.

She realized she was gasping, perhaps too loudly, perhaps calling his name, as suddenly, he disappeared from under her and was now covering her with his body, his hand on her mouth, stifling her cries.

And then she went slack against him.

Richard leaned back from her and looked into her eyes, and in that moment, she knew nothing else mattered. It was just the two of them together—basking in this connection—with no one else in sight.

“I love you, Jane,” said Richard, all lightness gone from his eyes. It was as though he was making an oath. A promise. Something he’d never break for the rest of his life. “I cannot wait to wake up every day of the rest of my life with you.”

A flock of butterflies darted through her chest.

“I love you, Richard. For years I didn’t feel like there was anywhere I belonged. But now I know it was because I was always supposed to belong with you.”

* * *

Thanks for reading HER RAKE FIANCÉ. If you enjoyed Richard and Jane’s story, make sure to get your exclusive bonus epilogue here:

https://mariahstone.com/rake-bonus/

Don’t stop here! To find out how our story continues, keep reading book 3 of our DUKES AND SECRETS series: PROJECT DUKE!

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