Mara rushed over to grasp her hands in her own. “I can’t tell you how happy I am for you.” She grinned. “And now that I know this wonderful gem is at Thorn Hall, rest assured that I will be a rather frequent guest.”
Lyra grinned. “And here I was under the impression that you might come to visitme.”
Her sister-in-law laughed. “Of course! This is merely a bonus.”
“Have you added any new titles?” Athena asked, as she pulled out a volume by Shakespeare.
“Nothing recently, but…” Lyra grinned in a rather conspiratorial manner. “I recently orderedMemoirs of a Woman of Pleasureby John Cleland.”
Mara gasped. “You actually purchasedFanny Hill?” She said the name on a near whisper, as if by merely speaking the name would cause a scandal.“But I thought it was banned!”
Lyra winked. “I was able to locate an original copy. Discreetly, of course.”
Athena’s lips twitched. “Youdoknow that it is referred to as a novel one reads with only one hand.”
All three of them laughed. Lyra shrugged. “It can’t be any worse than the works by the Marquis de Sade.”
Mara’s mouth dropped open. “Heaven forbid!”
As they collapsed into another fit of giggles, they didn’t know when another presence had joined them until the duke spoke up.
“I should have known this is where I’d find you ladies.”
Lyra gasped as she looked to the doorway and saw Alister’s masculine frame silhouetted there. To think that the rest of London had never bothered to see what she did now was still unfathomable. But ultimately, their loss was her gain, because he was all hers.
As if reading her thoughts, Alister’s eyes sparkled with promise.
“Uh oh. I’ve seen that look on Rion’s face before,” Athena murmured with an amused twist of her lips as she stood and headed for the door.
“I’m right behind you,” Mara said with a wink as she followed the countess. But before she left, Lyra heard her tell Athena, “I really don’t think they’re going to need that book…”
Alister calmly shut the heavy oak on their departure. Instantly, Lyra’s heart began to pound, but when he reached up and undid his cravat, it threatened to stop beating entirely. With a look that was entirely roguish, he tossed the scrap of silk aside.
“What are you doing?” Lyra asked breathlessly, as he began to work on the buttons of his waistcoat, the one that she had personally suggested he wear because it brought out the copper highlights of his hair. “We have a house full of guests that we should be entertaining—”
He lifted a brow. “But you’re the only one I care to please.” As he discarded his waistcoat and drew his shirt over his head to bare his chest with all those glorious, corded muscles, he murmured, “Surely you can think of any number of particularly,satisfyingways in which to spend our time instead.”
Lyra could indeed, and she didn’t protest when he reached out and gently began to take the pins out of her hair. Within moments, the heavy strands had cascaded across her shoulders like a golden waterfall. “Have you no shame?” she chided gently.
As he worked on the bodice of her gown, he paused and appeared to ponder the matter. “I don’t think so,” he shrugged. “But then, I’m not all bright. Or haven’t you heard?”
She couldn’t help but laugh as he made fun of his former moniker. “I’m not so sure about that, Your Grace.” Her head fell back as he began to nuzzle her neck. “But then, no one knows you quite as well as I do,” she added huskily.
“And I’m glad for it,” he murmured softly.
He pulled back and cupped her cheek in his strong hand. Hands that Lyra knew would never strike her but only hold her in a loving embrace. “I love you.”
“And I love you.” He put a hand to her stomach where it was still relatively flat, but both of them knew of the gentle life inside. When their gazes met again, he whispered, “Both of you.”
With that, he captured her lips with his own, and while the revelry and dancing continued downstairs, they made their own heavenly music.
EPILOGUE
December 29, 1819
Blackheath, England
The veiled lady took a seat in a corner of the serving area of the Hare & Billet where she’d taken rooms upstairs. She rather surprised the serving wench when she ordered a tankard of ale, but unfortunately she couldn’t think of anything else that might force her nerves to calm as she waited for further instructions from her blackmailer. She detested the victimized role that she was being forced to play, but since she had no other options, she had to play along with this game.
