Her eyes shot open at the sheer, concentrated force of the sensation, pleasure and sweetness, and love and heat. Her gaze fixed on the night sky, but her vision swam, and she saw flashes of the aurora borealis and the churning North Sea and the swiftly moving clouds of Middlesex. She saw her future, which looked oh-so-bright indeed.
Eventually, she saw Jason’s hair, which flopped over her face in short, sweaty locks.
She heard his labored breath. She became aware of her own breathing. She heard a log in the fire disintegrate with a hiss and drop into the ashes.
“Have we survived?” she asked softly.
He didn’t answer.
His arms tightened around her; he squeezed her until it was almost uncomfortable.
“Never leave me again,” he said against her neck. “Never make me deny you to my family again.”
She shook her head. “No. I promise. Never again.”
He squeezed her once more, even tighter, and she let out a little squeak. He rolled from her, and she scooted against the window, making room. He gathered her into his arms and pulled the coverlet over the slick, naked tangle of their bodies.
“I love you, Isobel Beckett, Duchess of Northumberland,” he said, kissing the top of her head.
For a time, they drowsed, sated and replete, and reveling in their love. A loud swell of music from downstairs roused Isobel, and she lay in Jason’s arms, gazing at his sleeping face in the moonlight. With a gentle hand, she smoothed a tousled lock of hair from his brow.
He made a growling noise and nuzzled her hand.
“I cannot believe I came here to rescue you from your own... emotional drowning,” she whispered, “and I became a duchess instead.”
“Make no mistake, you did rescue me. Although my sister Ronnie claims it was only a matter of time before she took me in hand. But you rescued me in other ways.”
“What will you do now?” she asked. “Now that Lady Veronica will manage the estate?”
“The notion is so new to me I hadn’t thought,” he said.“I’ll need to be present, I suppose, to be available and useful to Ronnie. My father sat in the Lords, as I’ve said. My brothers did not. If any part of the dukedom appeals to me, it would be government. I have something to offer, given my experience. What do you think?”
“I think it is an idea worth pursuing.”
“What of your work?” he asked. “ ‘Tinker’s Travel,’ my spies tell me it’s called. You’ll carry on, I hope, despite being duchess. I cannot imagine my mother is entirely ready to give up running this house, unless you...”
He allowed the sentence to trail off. He was so very generous about her preferences and desires.
“I do wish to carry on working,” she said. “I’ll hire more help. I’ll train Samantha to take on more responsibility. She has been asking, and she is ready. I want to be prepared if—”
And now she stopped. Without warning, her throat grew thick and painful with impending tears. Her eyes stung.
“If what?” he asked, listening carefully. He found her hand and interlaced their fingers.
“If we’re blessed with a child,” she finished on a rush, the tears impossible to hide.
“You would like to be a mother,” he observed lightly, giving her time.
She nodded, tucking her face into his chest.
Against his skin, she whispered, “If I can carry a baby who will—”
She couldn’t finish.
“We will try and try and try, Isobel,” he assured her. “We will try in every room of this house, including on the rickety cot, and a million times in the bed that replaces it. You are young and I am virile.”
She laughed. Only he would claim this.
“And perhaps you will be a mother. That is what I predict. And if not... it won’t be for lack of trying—as I’ve mentioned—but we’ll manage that too. Come what may.”
