And true to form, his fearless wife scooped the tiny alligator right up, snuggling him close to her chest.
Fitz tightened his arms around the two of them. He couldn’t imagine feeling happier than he did in this moment.
52
Epilogue - Georgiana
A few days later
Chesterfield Ball
London, England
GEORGIANA SIDLED UP next to the Duke of Ironcrest where he stood like a stone gargoyle with his back against the wall of the Chesterfield ballroom. He slowly perused her figure from head to toe, his dark gaze molten. Perfect. This would do splendidly. She nearly giggled. His expression was unreadable, his scar stark against his cheek, but he seemed…curious.
“Mrs. Jennings,” he murmured, looking back out at the ballroom. “Have you reconsidered my and Lord Dunmore’s offer?”
She flicked open her fan and covered her mouth. “Apologies, Your Grace, but my answer remains firmly in the negative.” She scanned the crowd, searching for a head of disorderly amber curls. “Plus, I happen to know you already have an assignation with Lady Camoys tonight.” She winked at the Duke, and he blinked. He clearly had no idea what to do with her.
“But considering our…history,” she continued. “I was hoping you could stand there with your ducal smolder on full display. You know—the one where you look as though you’re going to devour a woman without even touching her.”
His black brows lifted incrementally.
“I am aiming to make Mr. Jennings jealous,” she said in a hushed voice. “Like back at the brothel, if you recall. You, in particular, will—let us say—light a fire in him.” She nearly moaned, thinking back to that night.
Since that night, they’d been exploring each other’s desires quite thoroughly. No seeking outside help—just communication and experimentation. Though she couldn’t deny the pamphlets he’d gotten from his ex-mistress had been enlightening, even for Georgiana. Which was saying something.
She fluttered her fan and leaned closer to the Duke. “It is a game we play, you see. I am sure you understand the appeal of punishment.”
That was one of the first discoveries they’d made together. After Georgiana nearly expired in a pile of lust when Fitz had burst into the brothel in a fit of jealous rage, she knew she needed more ofthat. More of angry mongoose Fitz. Feral Fitz. PossessiveI’m going to punish youFitz. And her adorable, bumbling husband? He liked to punish her. Something about the jealousy made his stumbling disappear, something primal took over him. And once he learned her limits—which were essentially non-existent—he lost all reservations.
The Duke’s eyebrows were nearly at the hairline of his short, cropped locks. “You would like to use me in some sort of sex game with your husband?”
“Yes, exactly!” She bounced on her toes. “I knew you would understand. And, of course, it would be unkind of me to ask you to do so without recompense.”
He tilted his head, his lips twitching ever so slightly. His eyes didn’t seem as dark as usual. Was sheamusingthe Iron Duke?
“Recompense…” he questioned.
“I may have shared a few tricks with Lady Camoys.” A saucy smile curved her lips. As she had said, she had learned someveryinteresting things in those pamphlets. “I think you’ll be quite pleased.”
His eyes widened in pure shock. He shook his head, sliding his expressionless mask back in place. “You surprise me, Mrs. Jennings. It would appear I missed quite the opportunity when you propositioned me last year.”
“That you did,” she said with a cheeky smile. “Oh! He’s heading this way now. Hurry, seduce me!”
She blinked up at him, channeling every ounce of innocent, impressionable maiden. His lips twitched again, and he nearly—nearly!—broke into a smile. She fluttered her eyelashes and shot him her bestcome now, make hastelook.
He cleared his throat and reached for her gloved hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles as he bowed over it. “You are an absolute spitfire, Mrs. Jennings,” he murmured huskily, his lips coasting over the back of hand.
She tittered, her gaze darting to Fitz. Who was mutinous. Yes! She met the Duke’s gaze, and he ever so slightly tilted his head in question.
“Perfect,” she whispered. “You are an utter angel.”
He straightened, his furrowed eyebrows the height of disbelief.
“Fine, you are an utter devil. Thank you, Your Grace.”
A hand fisted the back of her skirts, giving it a powerful tug that nearly had her stumbling. Georgiana sucked in a breath and then nearly squealed in delight.
