She looked to where his wife was now standing, saying goodbye to the children. “I think she no longer has a need to run.”
“Only into my arms.”
She chuckled softly at that. “I have no doubt, Mr. Trewlove, that your mother is incredibly proud of the man you are.”
And for the first time in a little over thirty-one years, she knew a true measure of peace.
He took her to the Trewlove Hotel. Since he had family connections, he was able to get them a rather lavishly appointed room, with lacy white curtains flowing down from the canopy. As she stepped over the threshold, Lavinia thought perhaps this room had been decorated with newly married couples in mind. It was rather romantic with a low fire burning on the hearth and flickering candles positioned strategically to relegate shadows to the corners while illuminating the large four-poster bed.
She thought she should be nervous on her wedding night. But she was with Finn and had always been comfortable with him, so she merely was anticipating the night—anticipating the remainder of their days and nights together.
“Are you pleased with the room?” her husband asked as he came up behind her and wound his arms around her.
“Extremely so.” Spinning around within his embrace, she faced him, lifted her heels off the floor, and nipped at his chin. “Much more pleased to be your wife.”
“Eight years ago, I wouldn’t have been able to bring you here. While I regret and oft resent the years we were apart, we’d have had a lot more challenges awaiting us. While we will still face challenges, I don’t think they’ll be as difficult to overcome.”
“I’m letting go of the night we were to run away together, Finn. I’m not going to allow my father to haunt me. I’ll have naught to do with my mother any longer. I fear she is a toxic woman and I refuse to be poisoned by her. We have your family. We have my brother and his family. We have each other. That’s all that matters.”
“Too many times to count I have thought of having you as my wife.” He pressed a kiss to one corner of her mouth, then to the other. “Lady Lavinia Trewlove.”
“I don’t want to be addressed as ‘lady,’ Finn.” Except as the moniker she would use in articles and publications. “Mrs. Trewlove will suffice.”
“But you are a lady, Vivi. You shouldn’t give up what is yours by birth and by right. Our children will benefit from your place in Society.”
“Our place. I shan’t move about in circles that won’t include you. I shall set an example and perhaps there will come a time when even the royals will dare to marry commoners. When someone will be judged by neither the origins or the legitimacy of his birth.”
“We’re probably a long way off from that happening, sweetheart.”
“Perhaps not after they see how happy my commoner has made me.” Once more, rising up on her toes, she claimed his mouth as hers. Before the night was done, she intended to claim every aspect of him as hers. She would touch, mark, and brand. Never again would he be taken from her.
He returned her kiss with fervor and a low groan as though he’d never before had the taste of her, could never get enough of tasting her. She savored the dark flavor of his mouth, noting the champagne they’d enjoyed during the wedding breakfast, the whisky with which they’d toasted all their plans finally coming to fruition. The brandy he’d shared with his brothers later as they wished him well before she and Finn had taken their leave.
Tonight was about making a fresh start, of fulfilling a dream they’d both held for years. Of holding and cherishing, of loving and caring for, of building a life that suited them and brought them joy.
With the greatest of care and small steps, he backed her up until her legs hit the bed. All the while she never released the hold she had on his shoulders. Broad shoulders she’d always admired.
Sliding her hands beneath the lapels, she coaxed off his jacket and let it fall to the floor. It was as though she’d fired a gun to signal the start of a race, because their clothes came off hurriedly until they were both standing there with no cloth to separate their skin. When she would have moved to press the length of her body against his, he stalled her with a hand on her ribs, before lowering himself to his knees. He pressed his lips to her navel, then circled it with a series of kisses like a stone being thrown into a pond creating ever widening circles.
“One of our children has grown here.” His tone was at once melancholy but awed. “Hopefully another will, and I’ll be able to watch you increasing. And you’ll have an easier time of it because you won’t be forced into hiding to prevent the world from seeing your shame.”
“I was never ashamed, Finn. Perhaps a bit embarrassed at having gotten caught doing something I shouldn’t have. But I wanted the child, because it was yours. I never considered giving her away. I do worry that I might not be able to give you more children. The birth was hard.”
“Vivi, if we have other children, it will be a blessing. And if not, we’ll still have hundreds to take care of. We will have children in our lives.” After unfolding his body, he cradled her face between his hands. “As I learned growing up, it is not blood that creates a family. It’s love. And I do love you. I have for a good bit of my adult life and that will never change. You are what makes me whole.”
“Oh, Finn. I love you so much.”
As his mouth reclaimed hers, he tumbled her down onto the bed, covering her body with his. She would never tire of the glorious sensations that fluttered through her when they were touching skin to skin, head to toe. She loved every aspect of his fine, honed body. The way his muscles bunched and flowed as he caressed her. The entire length of him. So warm and inviting. Moving beneath her fingertips with incredible purpose. To claim, to hold dear, to pleasure and treasure.
She’d waited a lifetime to become his wife, to be taken fully and completely, with her conscience no longer whispering,This is a sin.
She’d wanted him, always wanted him, in her bed, nestled between her thighs. No matter how right it felt, her conscience had never left her alone in order to feel no guilt. But now it was pure bliss. To have and to hold from this day forward.
It was imperative he understand she was free at last to love him, to make love with him. No guilt nagged at her. All the little voices that had always questioned her were now silent.
Because this man was finally hers—heart, body, and soul.
With her hands gliding over his firm muscles, his taut buttocks, his broad shoulders, relishing the outlining of the dips, curves, and flat expanses. Claiming his body as hers.
