“Somehow all of this brought me to you. You’ve freed me, Emma,” he said tenderly. “Because of you, I know what it is to love and be loved.”
How could she resist this man?
“You’ve always known how to love—you just didn’t get enough in return. Never fear,” she said with a sniffle, “I shall make up for it. I’m going to be the duchess of your dreams.”
“You already are. Although, now that you mention it, there do remain several variations to your position that we’ve yet to explore.” His slow, wicked smile sent love and desire tumbling through her. “Care for a demonstration, your grace?”
“Always, your grace,” she said.
He kissed her with a passion that left her breathless. Sweeping her up in his arms, he carried her upstairs. And while her duke proceeded to teach her thrilling new ways to love, she proved, as always, that she was a duchess up to the task.
Epilogue
Other men might fear finding their wives in compromising situations.
Alaric anticipated it—a good thing, given who he was married to.
Stalking through the winding hedges, he arrived at the edge of the moonlit garden, and his blood heated as he spotted the familiar figure of his duchess. She was in the gazebo; she had her back turned to him—and she was not alone.
Soundlessly, he approached. Cleared his throat.
Violet, who was standing on the gazeborailing, spun around with the ease of an acrobat. A telescope dangled from one of her hands. “Gadzooks, you startled me!”
“Your grace.” This came from Thea, who curtsied and hastily jammed a pair of opera glasses into her reticule. “We weren’t, um, expecting you.”
“Darling, I didn’t think you were coming tonight.” Smiling, Emma stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his jaw. “I thought you and Tremont planned to have a late night of cards.”
Recently, Alaric had been concerned about his friend, who didn’t quite seem himself. Emma had encouraged him to spend the night with Tremont at the club. Halfway through the evening, however, instinct had told him to seek his wife out. Or maybe he just missed her.
Either way, he should have known that she was up to something.
“If I may be so bold,” he said, “what is going on here?”
His cool, polite tones had their intended effect. Violet hopped down from the railing, landing with the grace of a cat on her slippered feet. Grabbing Thea by the arm, she pulled the other out of the gazebo, saying cheerfully, “Marianne will be looking for us, so we’ll leave the explaining to Emma. Good evening, your grace!”
He bowed to his wife’s departing sisters. Then he turned to face his errant duchess.
He quirked a brow. “Well?”
“Now, Alaric, it’s not as bad as it looks,” she began.
“Does it look bad?” he inquired. “To find one’s wife in a dark garden—spying and taking notes?” He dropped his gaze to the notebook jutting out of her pearl-encrusted evening bag.
“I was just doing a little observation,” she said brightly. “You see, at a soiree earlier this week, I came upon a lady weeping in the retiring room. She thought her husband might be having an affair with Lady De Burgh. Since I happened to have an invitation to the party next door to the De Burghs, I promised her I’d take a look.”
“And you didn’t think to mention this to me?”
She peered up at him through her lashes. “I didn’t know if anything would come of it. I didn’t want to concern you over naught. If I saw anything tonight, however,” she said virtuously, “I was definitely going to tell you.”
“And did you, my love?” he said calmly. “See anything, I mean?”
She wrinkled her nose. “No. Someone did enter the bedchamber, but Lady De Burgh took the precaution of drawing the curtains before we could ascertain his identity.”
“She and Lord Galveston didn’t want an audience, no doubt.”
“Galveston?” Emma exclaimed. “How do you know it was him?”
“Because he and I do business together. When we meet at the club and he gets into his cups, his tongue loosens. He’s been having anaffairewith Lady De Burgh for several weeks.”
