Heeled footsteps sounded across the foyer, up the stairs, and down the hall. In just a few moments, Eleanor practically crashed through the door. Her shrill greeting almost made Graham wish it was the sheriff.
“Graham! How are you, my darling son?” Eleanor asked, not waiting for a response as she crossed the room and assured herself that her son was indeed alive and well.
Disengaging from her ministrations, Graham smoothed down his hair. “Mother, Alaina and Christopher wrote to you that I was perfectly fine, and that there was no need for you to come. What are you doing here?”
“Not to come? Do you think them so callous as to keep a mother from her son? I would have been here sooner, but I was visiting Georgiana in Cornwall and just returned yesterday,” Eleanor responded. “Besides, you are bedridden, so ‘perfectly fine’ is not an apt description. I can stay with you until you are well enough and then I can escort you home.”
The last statement from Eleanor caused Christopher to laugh. “Well, Graham, if I know Eleanor, you will be home before you know it, just as you wished.”
Alaina giggled as well, and soon the friends were all laughing, leaving Eleanor to wonder what was so funny.
Epilogue
Alaina moaned deep in her throat, a warmth starting to spread from her center outward through all of her limbs. Christopher paused in his exploration of her womanhood to trail kisses up her torso, ending with her breasts, capturing the dark nipples in his mouth to suckle and tease with his teeth. Alaina, caught up in the rapture of the moment, missed the smile that curved on Christopher’s face as he watched her enjoy their interlude.
As Christopher made to resume his tongue’s caress of Alaina’s womanhood, he was stayed by Alaina’s hand.
“Where do you think you are going?” Alaina asked, leveling a passion-glazed stare at her husband as he regarded her from his current position on her lower abdomen.
“To finish what I started,” Christopher answered, his grin turning to a more rakish smile as he reveled in his wife’s beauty.
“Well, when have I ever been one to stop you in that endeavor?” Alaina teased, and Christopher chuckled, quickly making his way back to the tufts of hair covering her most private areas and once again capturing her in his mouth.
Christopher’s tongue traced the edges of Alaina’s inner core, now slick with excitement, and revisited the nub over and over, bringing her to the very precipice of ecstasy, before sending her over the edge, the sound of her pleasure making him harder than he could have imagined.
Alaina, catching her breath, looked up at her husband with a gleam in her eye and sat up on the four-poster bed where they were currently ensconced. Christopher sat back on his heels to regard his wife, and was now amazed to find her making her way with intent toward his manhood. He rolled his head on his shoulders as her mouth placed a kiss on the tip of his member.
“I let you finish, and now it is my turn,” came his wife’s voice, her breath hot, before she brought his length fully into her mouth. In any other moment, Christopher would have countered with something witty, but he was himself engulfed by the passion of the moment, letting his wife’s mouth work its own type of magic.
“Daydreaming again, my dear?” Christopher asked, breaking Alaina’s memory of their exploits from earlier in the day, just after breakfast. Alaina averted her face from her husband, and Christopher caught the look. “Remembering this morning, are we?”
“Why, my dear husband, my mind seems to have wandered.”
“Well, what ifmyhands wandered in the same direction asyourmind?” Christopher questioned, feeling his pants tighten. With this question, Alaina seemed to remember their reason for being in the study.
“When did you say he was coming?” Alaina asked, turning toward Christopher. He had been seated at his desk, pouring over ledgers while she read in an oversized chair by the fire, when he had noticed her far away gaze and had heard a moan of contentment.
It was turning out to be a rather cold day and the only place Alaina could keep warm in the Rochester townhome was in Christopher’s study. It was not like he minded, but Alaina was sure he was used to more peace and quiet while he worked, or at least a view that did not drive him to distraction.
Placing his quill back into the inkwell, Christopher looked up from his desk and smiled at his wife. “It is supposed to be today, my dear. There is no need to fret.”
“I am not fretting, just reminding myself,” Alaina said, turning back to her novel.
Almost a year had passed since they had last seen Graham. Their only contact with him, aside from a single, unplanned visit, had been through letters. Christopher had hoped his friend might join their holiday celebrations, but some last-minute personal business had kept Graham away. With the season due to start in a few weeks, Graham had finally sent word that he would be in town and planned to call on them soon.
Alaina placed a hand on her slightly protruding stomach and began to worry again. Although there had only been goodwill between the three of them during Graham’s short convalescence at Waverley, Alaina could not help but think his long absence from Christopher’s life had something to do with her.
“You are doing it again. There is no need to fret, everything is as it has always been,” came Christopher’s voice.
Alaina met her husband’s eyes and offered a weak smile. “Yes, I know. He just did not formally visit last season in London, even though he was in town.”
Christopher chewed on her statement a bit before responding with a shake of his head. “If I had to venture a guess, there were other reasons he failed to call.”
Just then, they both heard a commotion in the front foyer, and a short moment later, the person of the hour walked through the door, resplendent in his finest evening wear.
“Graham, nice of you to come calling, finally,” teased Christopher, who pushed away from his desk to greet his friend with a handshake that turned into a quick embrace.
Alaina watched the pair and smiled; nothing seemed out of place to her eye. The only real difference was the walking stick Graham carried, which to a less astute observer might have looked like a mere prop, but Alaina could discern a slight hitch in his step. She stood up and smoothed her skirts, approaching the two friends who had already amicably fallen into conversation.
