“The world,” she answered suddenly, “I demand the world.”A smile spread across her face as she pressed her upturned lips to his.“I want a home, a family, a purpose.I want a life of consequence and the duties of a duchess, which I believe I can fulfill admirably.”She kissed him again and again until there was no doubt what she meant when she said, “Oh, I wantyou, Selwyn.”
As the Duchess of Brantingham, Aurelia Goldsworthy would be a busy, benevolent, important lady.He didn’t care if she never hosted society balls or attended Court receptions, for she would be a leading figure in Yorkshire, and a delight to everyone who knew her.
They would be together—living, working, and loving—for the rest of their lives.Selwyn couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.
He drew the woman of his dreams into his arms and cradled her against his chest.Her hands clutched at his sleeves, and the stiff boning of her bodice pressed into the soft silk of his waistcoat.Their mouths met in a tangle of lips, teeth, and tongues, as this was no chaste embrace in the carriage, no stolen kisses by the staircase.They werein love, and they wanted to share in that love, physically as well as emotionally.
Selwyn felt as if his heart would burst in his chest as Miss Goldsworthy—his beloved Aurelia—snaked her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers into his hair.She was, it seemed, as desperate as he to transform their love into a tangible thing.
“I never dreamed…”she whispered as his mouth burned a trail up and down her throat, nibbling her neck and pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the pale peaks of her bare shoulders.“I never dreamed…”
He smiled against her bosom.“I know, my love, it’s too good.Too good to be true.I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you, but I’m grateful for the chance to be yours.”
“But itistrue, Selwyn.If anyone deserves happiness, it’s you—and me, I suppose.”Aurelia laughed as she stroked her fingernails across his scalp.“We can be greedy in this.There’s no shame in it.”
He lifted his chin and claimed her mouth in a hungry kiss.“I am not ashamed.”
She angled in his lap, deepening their embrace.Nimble fingers searched his arms, his chest, beneath the starched points of his shirt collar.She unfastened the tiny, gold buttons and freed his throat, which she boldly kissed.
“I’m not ashamed either,” she said.
He was glad to hear it.Selwyn eased her from his lap, unrepentant in his rather apparent desire for her.He was a big man, that was true, but he would be tender and gentle, and sought only to treasure her with his touch.
“Will you come to bed with me, Aurelia, as my friend, my lover?My equal?”He offered her his hand.
She placed her fingers into his palm and rose to her feet.“I will come.”
For the first time, Selwyn Charlton, the Duke of Brantingham, was about to put a foot perilously wrong—at least in the worst sticklers of proprieties’ eyes—yet he had never felt so free or so right.Yes, good things came to those who waited, and he had undoubtedly been patient, dutiful, and noble, but thebestthings came to risk takers like Aurelia who refused to settle for anything less than what they wanted.
He scooped her into his arms and carried her over the threshold of his own bedchamber.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
A fire had been lit in the Duke’s bedroom, for even on Christmas Eve, a servant’s work was never done.His Grace took the formal jacket from around her shoulders, explaining, “I told my valet I could undress myself this evening, but the poor fellow lives in fear of a chill nipping at my ducal toes.”
Aurelia laughed.She wasn’t nervous exactly, but she felt relieved that they could talk, laugh, and flirt together.She’d be a duchess in the New Year, and she worried that their dynamic would be…altered somehow.She understood now that she’d been foolish, for Selwyn loved her no matter what.
“Your staff is devoted to you,” she said, wrapping her arms about his waist.He was such a burly, strapping man, and she felt utterly safe in his presence.“I think it’s sweet that he slipped up here during the festivities to light a fire.”
“I’m a good employer.”Selwyn bent his head to kiss her.“I pay by the toe.”
Again, she laughed, and he said, “There, that’s better.Tonight is important, Aurelia, but it mustn’t be a serious occasion.”His large hands cradled her face.His thumbs stroked her cheeks.“We can have as much fun as we like tonight—and every night afterward, for you’ll be my wife, I shall be your husband.”
Aurelia could scarcely imagine that he was to be hers, and they would be togetherlike thisfor the rest of their lives.The Duke was a man of great strength, but with a gentle hand.She marveled at his graceful movement as he carefully undressed her.
A warm flush stained her cheeks.Aurelia felt heat from her nose to her toes, and everywhere in between.She slipped from her silver-and-gold brocade evening gown and allowed him to drape the glimmering mass of skirts over a nearby settee.
She watched as he placed his waistcoat, white cravat, braces, and trousers atop her clothes.Selwyn stood before her clad in only his dress shirt and drawers.Firelight played off his bare flesh, for he was all long legs and firm thighs, and when—at last—he hauled his shirt over his head and dragged his underclothes down his hips, Aurelia gasped audibly.His chest, arms, and torso rippled with muscles that she’d only ever seen on statues and in works of art.As for the rest of him…
Heavens!
He was a country gentleman, a brawny Yorkshireman, who’d grown up hale and hearty out of doors.He was no lean, lithe Londoner, and she was glad!She loved him just as he was.
Aurelia placed the flats of her palms on his chest, feeling his heart beat.She drew closer, allowing him to unlace and unhook her corset, petticoats, and bustle paddings.
To her surprise, the Duke dropped to his knees before her.He kissed each delicate patch of skin between the lace edges of her drawers and the tops of her garters, and then he deftly rolled her stockings down her calves.
His hands were strong as he massaged her ankles and cupped her heels, stripping off both lengths of embroidered silk and depositing them on the carpet upon which he knelt.It was erotic, this slow seduction, this heart-pounding prelude to their lovemaking.
