He kissed her once more and then began to move. At first, the slow, careful movements felt strange to Madeline, but before she knew it, pleasure had started to build up inside her once more, more intensely than anything she had encountered before. Every thrust jerked a breathy gasp of a moan out of her lips, growing louder and louder. Tristan seemed to like that, chuckling at her and kissing her occasionally.
He braced himself on the sofa arm, speeding up, and Madeline had a quick, powerful image of herself on the edge of a canyon, teetering on the brink of something very large indeed. She closed her eyes, digging her fingers into Tristan’s shoulders, and cried out.
Her climax was more powerful than before, making her vision warp a little at the corners. Her mouth fell open, and she gasped for breath.
Tristan leaned down and kissed her, just for a moment—neither of them had breath for much kissing—and growled, low in his throat. His thrusts grew erratic, and he reached out, fumbling between them.
Something hot and sticky spilled down the inside of Madeline’s thigh. Tristan leaned his weight against her, going still.
For a moment, they lay like that, simply breathing, arms and legs tangled around each other.
“That was wonderful,” Madeline managed at last. Her voice had gone faintly hoarse.
Tristan chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to the side of her neck. He withdrew a handkerchief and wiped at her thigh.
“I rather thought you enjoyed it.”
“What was that?” she asked, nodding at the handkerchief. “I thought you had relinquished control.”
“No babies yet, that was what you said,” he responded, propping himself up on his elbow and eyeing her curiously. “Unless, of course, you have changed your mind?”
She bit her lip, reaching up to push his hair back from his forehead.
“I think I might,” she confessed. “Perhaps next time we could… could do things differently?”
He tilted his head. “Perhaps we might. Since you are now myproperwife, there are many things we might do differently.”
She giggled, pushing up to kiss him on the mouth.
“I should like that,husband. Oh, and there is something I forgot to tell you.”
“Oh?” He lifted an eyebrow.
She beamed up at him. “I love you, Tristan.”
His eyes softened, and he leaned down to kiss her once more.
“And I love you, Madeline. Now, let’s put your spectacles back on your face, shall we? I adore how you look with them.”
“Oh, please do,” she answered fervently. “Frankly, I cannot see athing.”
EPILOGUE
TWO WEEKS LATER
“You are fit as a fiddle, Your Grace,” Doctor Hought pronounced. “Young Master Adam is well, too.”
Madeline let out a sigh of relief. It was Tristan who had insisted that the doctor look over both Madeline and Adam, and she was glad it was over. Adam was fully recovered from his fever and croup and was, in fact, getting more and more energetic with every passing day.
“I had wondered if I might be… if I might be with child,” Madeline confessed, twisting her fingers together. “I know it is too soon to tell, but I had hopes. Then my courses came only yesterday, so I suppose I am not.”
“That is a fairly good sign that you arenot,” the doctor chuckled, closing up his surgeon’s bag with a snap. “But you are a healthy young woman, and the duke is a fine, strong man. If children are what you would like, then I am sure you will have them in time.”
“And the childbirth—should I fear it?”
Doctor Hought took a moment to respond.
“Childbirth is a dangerous thing,” he said at last. “But I—and the famous Mrs. Stibbons, too—deliver countless healthy babies to healthy women every year. As far as I can tell, Your Grace, your examination shows that you are a healthy and strong woman. I do not foresee any complications should you become with child.”
