“But your school. I know how important it is to you, how hard you’ve worked to grow it.”
Her smile turned a bit wistful. “Perhaps I can rebuild it one day. Perhaps not.”
“But you’ve been crying over it.”
“Silly.” She sniffed. “It was you I was crying about. Throwing you over was the most difficult decision I’ve ever made.”
He thought of the hated letter he had abandoned in his study and how he would enjoy finally pitching it into the flames later.
“Why did you?” Rhys asked.
“Because you said you never wanted to marry. I thought there was no hope of a future for the two of us.”
To think how close he had come to almost losing her.Never again, he vowed.
“I’m an arse,” he said. “Do you forgive me?”
“Only if you forgive me.”
“Done.” He kissed her swiftly before withdrawing and taking her hand in his. “Now, come with me, if you please.”
“Where are we going?” she asked as he led her to the stairs.
Rhys grinned at her. “To your bedroom. Since we’ve already scandalized all of London, we may as well do what we wish, and right now, there isn’t a thing in the world that this wicked duke would like to do more than ravish his wicked duchess-to-be.”
Hand in hand, they ascended the narrow staircase to her waiting bedroom.
And some time shortly thereafter, the ravishing commenced.
EPILOGUE
ONE YEAR LATER
“Gentle reader, it is the humble opinion of this scribe that the scandal concerning the Duchess of W. was, in truth, naught but lies perpetuated by a bitter Lord A.,” Miranda read triumphantly as she pored over the latest edition of the gossip rag that had, a mere year ago, nearly proven her ruin.
A gossip rag that had, instead of destroying her happiness, been inadvertently responsible for helping her to secure it. She very much doubted Ammondale would appreciate the role he had played in her marriage to Rhys. But she couldn’t lie—there was a certain, profound pleasure to be had in knowing she had triumphed in the end.
Rhys kissed her nape. “Do continue, kitten. I can see there’s quite a bit more to it, and I rather like the sound of this. There’s nothing I can appreciate more than the Earl of Ammondale getting his comeuppance and my beautiful wife receiving the adulation she so rightly deserves.”
She sighed contentedly and leaned into his tall, muscled form, the undeniable ridge of his cock against her bottom a potent lure. “Meanwhile, the new school of cookery recentlyopened by the Duchess of W. continues to attract far more pupils than it can reasonably hold.”
Rhys nuzzled her throat as she paused to once again savor his attentions.
“The Duchess’s School of Cookery is going to need to expand to the neighboring property soon,” he murmured before nibbling at her ear.
“Do you truly think so?” she asked, delighted by the notion, even as desire shimmered through her.
The sinful man knew her ears were indecently sensitive. A bit of licking and nipping on his part was all it took to make molten heat pool between her thighs.
“I know so,” he said.
Miranda had closed the Lenox School of Cookery following the scandal that had robbed her of pupils. But with Rhys’s help, she had found a far more convenient location in a larger and newer building. The new school, complete with a fresh name, had a massive room that could be used for lectures or cooking demonstrations, complete with multiple stoves and four immense tables that stretched its length, allowing plenty of room for the pupils who had slowly begun filling the benches. It had taken effort and time, but they had turned opinion in her favor, thanks to their marriage and the support of those closest to them.
“Thank you for believing in me,” she told her husband.
“You know you needn’t thank me for that. Your skill is unparalleled, my love. You’ve more than earned your sobriquet the Queen of Cookery.” He kissed the hollow behind her ear now, his hands gliding to cup her breasts through the gossamer fabric of her French peignoir.
How she adored lazy mornings when they stayed in their bedchamber and spent hours taking their breakfast in private, talking, bathing, making love, or, as was the case today, readingthe scandal rags and newspapers. The rain was pattering lightly on the windows, and all was right in their little world.
