“To hell with Society. They don’t get to tell me who I love and who will be my countess.” He pulled her closer, wanting to kiss those sweet lips of hers. “Do you love me?”
She blinked up at him. “It’s not that simple.”
“Do you love me?” he asked again, needing to hear the truth.
Her body deflated, sagging against his. “Yes,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”
A wide smile split his lips.
She loved him.
“Then nothing else matters, because I’ve loved you from the moment you crashed into my life, and I’ll love you until the day I die.” He breathed her in, wishing that they were alone, but they were not.
Carriages had stopped moving. People of the Ton were out and watching them openly. Delia’s sister stood on the side, dabbing a handkerchief to her eyes.
“Hunt,” Delia whispered, ghosting her lips to his. “You do know that you really are magnificent.”
He laughed, and for once, he didn’t curseTheRake Review.If it wasn’t for the gossip, he’d never have found the love of his life.
Hunt captured her lips in a long deep kiss, not caring that they were surrounded, not caring that perhaps they were causing a scandal. All that mattered was that Adelia St. George was his, and he was hers.
Always.
Epilogue
Four Months Later
Delia laid her head against the copper tub, enjoying her husband’s hands as he massaged the arch of her foot. It was impossible to think, let alone reveal her secret, when he did such things to her, which was often.
She smiled, thinking on the past four months, which had been the most magical months of her entire life.
After Hunt gallantly stopped her departure from London, they had turned the carriage around and returned to March House. It was highly improper, but at that point, Delia couldn’t find it in her to care. She was happy. He loved her.
Since then, it had been a whirlwind of activity. A small ceremony was held a sennight later, which, surprisingly, both her father and Aunt Francis attended. She suspected the latter only attended to brag to her friends. Her father had surprised her by showing up the day of her wedding.
He was silent and stoic, but he was there. Delia still had not seen her mother again, yet Hunt did inform her that he’d heardthat Selena was in town. It did not matter to Delia, as her mother made it perfectly clear that she was nothing more than a means to ensnare her father.
“What are you thinking about, my hellion?” Hunt asked, his fingers dancing up her calves.
Her magnificent husband dragged her to him, water sloshing over the tub. She smiled wickedly, her hands slipping around his neck, his hard member sitting at the entrance of her sex.
“How wonderful the past four months have been.” She brushed her lips against his, teasing him.
He gave her a playful smile. “They have been wonderful, and you tried to leave me.” He pouted, those green eyes that she loved filled with hurt and pain.
They had barely spoken about her brief moment of doubt. Delia had believed the lies that Augustus planted in her mind, but in reality, it didn’t matter what the Ton thought of her. Yes, there were some among the older nobility who openly ignored Delia and Hunt. The ones that had been alive for ages and felt that the only important things in the world were blood and status.
Fortunately for Delia, that part of the Ton was slowly disappearing. They were old after all. Newer members were more accepting or did not care about the circumstances of her birth at all.
“I thought I was doing the right thing for you,” she whispered, now knowing the truth.
She was always meant to be his, as he was always meant to be hers. Now Delia knew that without a shadow of doubt. The secret blooming inside of her was proof of that.
“The right thing for me is right here,” he said, squeezing her rear. “If I have to choose between you and Society’s opinion of me, I’ll choose you every single time.”
He pulled her onto his hard member, and Delia’s head fell back at the pleasure of him entering her. She’d never grow tired of having him inside of her.
Never.
