Extended Epilogue

One Year Later

The Duke of Wyld watched the woman nestled into him with a look of adoration. Her brown hair fell free over her face and shoulders and her rosebud pink mouth was parted slightly. She was in a snowy white rail which she insisted on wearing to bed each night even though she knew he would just divest her of it the second she woke up.

He dragged the back of his fingers over the silky skin of her arms and face then brushed the pad of his thumb across that plump lower lip.

Her face scrunched up into a frown and she batted his hands away. Finally, her lashes fluttered open, green eyes peering up at him grumpily.

"Good morning, wife."

"Hm," she murmured, "why do you look so excited?"

He pulled her closer to him till she was laying over him, head tucked under his jaw, "Mornings are my favorite part of the day because I wake up and you are in my arms."

"How poetic," there was a smile in her voice.

"Are you up for a ride?"

Lavinia raised her head, eyes shining with naughty intent, "depends on the type of ride you mean."

"Naughty minx," he laughed, "I mean the kind you do with all your clothes on."

Her bottom lip poked out in an adorable pout, "I find that I prefer the other kind."

The Duke snorted, "you are far too greedy to settle for one and leave the other, or have you forgotten how you almost got us thrown into a ditch a few days ago."

"If I recall correctly, you were a willing participant. I did not hear a single complaint or protest."

"Why, Your Grace," he said with mock offence, "I promised to grant you all your heart desires, did I not? How then can I refuse my lovely wife?"

The Duchess had been feeling poorly and so he had had them ride together on Whisper. Halfway into the ride, she had turned around in the horse and kissed him, which had led to them almost getting into an accident.

"All my heart desires, you say?" And then she began to crawl up his body till her mouth was just a hairsbreadth from him.

He brushed his mouth over hers, nipping at them.

She was the one who pressed closer, slanting their mouths together. Each kiss still felt like an experience, like something new and wonderful. It still made a shiver move through him. He wrapped his arm about her waist and then moved his hands down to cup her bottom.

The kiss wasn't deep enough for him and so he spun them till she was lying under him. She laughed into his mouth, fingers digging into his hair as he deepened the kiss.

One hand cupped her breast through the thin cotton night dress and he squeezed, palming the soft flesh. His other hand pushed her dress up her thighs till it was bunched around her waist.

He could never get tired of this woman.

Victor kissed down her chest, undoing the tie that held the collar of the dress together with his teeth. She giggled as he dragged the rope open.

He began to slide her dress down her body with a smile, but she suddenly stilled.

"What is the matter?" he asked worriedly.

Her only response was to push him off and hurriedly right her dress before slipping out of bed and rushing out of the room. The Duke immediately got to his feet after her and followed her to the bathing room where he found her kneeling over the chamber pot and casting up her accounts.

Panicked, he rushed toward her and gathered her long tresses away from her face, rubbing her back soothingly.

"Is it something you ate? How are you feeling?" He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead and then her neck, at a loss. "Come back to bed and I will go call for the doctor. Shall I have them get you some tea? Or broth perhaps? A cool cloth?"

She glanced up at him and smiled, "you are adorable."

He gaped at her, wondering how she could still smile in her current condition, "it must have been the fish from dinner."

She rose to her feet and he was immediately by her side, steadying her. "It is not the fish, Victor. As a matter of fact, I do not believe it is anything I ate at all."

He led her back to the room and rang for the maid.

"The doctor will know better when he arrives."

She grabbed his arm and turned to face him with a smile, her eyes filled with tears. His stomach clenched painfully at the sight of her wet eyes and his mind had already begun to race with thoughts of how to fix everything.

"I believe, Your Grace, that I am with child."

His thoughts immediately came to a startling halt. "W-with child? What do you mean with child?"

She laughed, "it means that the next Duke of Wyld is growing inside of me," a pause, "or perhaps it could be a girl."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

She nodded happily, "I have been sick a lot in the mornings and Mrs. Tremaine said it is a clear sign, along with- er-" she trailed off blushing.

Well, if there was anyone who would be knowledgeable about pregnancies, it was Mrs. Tremaine, the housekeeper and a mother of eight.

"We are going to be parents," he whispered with such wonder and then he grabbed her around the waist and twirled her around the room. He loved her so much and he would love all the children she gave him. He decided that he wanted children with her vivid green eyes and her humor.

"What would you like it to be? I think I shall like for it to be a boy," she mused.

He shook his head resolutely, "it has to be a girl, she will be just as stubborn and opinionated as you."

Lavinia rolled her eyes, "only if you agree that you will not fill my ears with complaints about her behavior for the next few years."

He thought about it for a moment, "I make no promises."

There was a soft rap at the door and the Duke called for the maid to come in.

"Draw a bath for the Duchess," he ordered. "Have someone send for the doctor and get her a pitcher of water."

"Your Grace," she bowed and the door shut behind her as she went off to carry out the instructions.

"There is no need for a doctor," she grumbled.

"Indulge me," he pressed a kiss to her temple and she melted into him.

"I have some idea about baby names, " the Duchess finally said, "And we shall have to tell the family after the doctor confirms the news of course. And I was wondering which of our friends or acquaintances would make a wonderful godparent."

"Patrick, most certainly."

She made a face, "he will already be the child's uncle. What about Lord Forsythe?"

The Duke narrowed his eyes at her, "no."

She giggled, "what do you think of Miss Mallory?"

"What do you think of spending the rest of day in bed with me?" he asked instead.

"Why, Your Grace," she batted her lashes at him, "that sounds positively delightful."

The End