Page 126 of A Duke's Keeper

He brushed his mouth against hers in an unspoken promise of what was to come. “I’ll take it.” He kissed her again, but instead of dragging her towards the bed, like she was hoping, he pulled back after a moment. “You deserve happiness. You know that now, don’t you? No one can take what you’ve built, what you build every day for those women at your shelter. Your goodness, your compassion—all of it is there for the world to see. I hope you see it as well.”

Heart overflowing, Camille smiled at his concern and need for her to know her worth. “I know.”

He blinked. “You do? But I had an entire speech prepared to prove your magnanimity.”

She laughed and knew in that one action she’d forgiven herself her mistakes and accepted the past for how it had shaped her future. “I was angry for so long at my father for being a selfish and indifferent monster. Furious at my mother for being weak and letting his absence turn her into an empty shell. Furious at the world for believing a woman’s worth lay in her obedience and silence.” She’d let the last of her anger drift away ages ago and her life had been nothing but bliss thereafter. Not even Nic had made an appearance, leaving Camille to suspect she’d been wrong to think he’d survived. And with the trust Hamish had set up for her, there was no question of her respectability should any would-be heirs take offense, even if Mrs. Norris still sent letters that bordered on sulking.

“And now?” Renard asked.

Coming back, Camille grinned. “Now, I’m only furious at myself for agreeing for one blasted second I wasn’t deserving of better.”

Thank God for Charlotte and Scarlet and Syd and Clarice—four women who wouldn’t accept of the roles thrust upon them. They didn’t ask for forgiveness or beg for what was deemed more than they deserved. They took up the weapons in their own minds and carved out places in the world that didn’t fit them. And now she was one of them.

Now she inspired others to do the same.

And she thanked God for the man who stood by her side, offering her support and friendship through it all.

A gentle caress to her cheek had her returning to her chambers and her husband.

“You’re frowning, my love,” Renard said. “You know how I feel about that.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted onto her toes to press a quick kiss on his lips. “No need for concern, husband. This time, the thoughts were happy ones.”

“Happy, you say?” His fingers skimmed her side, igniting fire under her skin. “You were thinking about me, then?” He snuzzled a sensitive spot along her jaw that sent the burning lower.

She gasped when his teeth nipped at her earlobe.

“Care to share?” he asked.

Her mind trudged through desire to come to some understanding. “Huh?”

He leaned back from her, his gaze amused. “Your thoughts, darling. Anything I should know?” His voice and gaze lowered. “Things you wish to try?”

She smiled at him, remembering that smile from the night they’d met, the life they’d begun together through differences and teasing. And, indeed, an idea came to mind. “I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to another homemade tart or two.”

“Oh.” He released her, willing to stall his own desire to fill her belly. He held out an arm, the picture of the perfect escort. “Then shall we head to the kitchens, duchess?”

She nodded. “We should have the staff take the rest of the day off as well.”

He frowned, his arm dropping in his confusion. “If you wish it, but won’t you need assistance dressing for dinner later?”

“I’ll be much too busy for that.” She walked to the door and opened it, looking back at her husband, loving the way he followed her schemes wherever she directed. “Besides...” She infused her tone with her forthcoming mischief. “After eating custard off our naked bodies, the only thing we’ll need is a bath.”

She watched her husband’s body ripple with understanding and bit back her smile.

He cleared his throat and straightened his already perfectly placed cuffs. His serious expression was ruined by his own mischievous tone. “We wouldn’t want to alarm the cook when we bypass the need for proper plate ware.”

She nodded, ever agreeable. “And, thanks to Hamish, our water heats itself.”

Mock seriousness dropping, he drew her into his arms once again and smiled. “Remind me to send my brother-in-law a basket of tarts in thanks for ensuring a perfect marriage.”

“‘Perfect’?” Camille laughed. “All it takes to win your affections is a bit of pipes and water? And you called tarts a silly favor.”

“It has nothing to do with the water.” He pressed a kiss to her lips. “The only thing I need for a happy life is my family... you.”

When he pulled back to gaze down at her this time, Camille saw a long future of happiness—years of bedroom adventures involving baked goods—reflected in her husband’s eyes. She placed a hand on her lower stomach and knew that happiness would grow after they’d polished off a tray of tarts, and when Renard learned of the life growing in her.

She offered a secret smile and asked, “Shall we go scandalize our household, then?”

Renard bowed to his wife and offered her the lead in that wonderful future.

“After you, my love.”