Page 48 of The Rake's Revenge
He opened his mouth, but Amelia put her satin-covered fingers over his lips. “Let me speak first.” Her voice was like an angel’s song to his ears—a sound he’d never thought to hear until he graced the steps of Heaven. “Your actions were deplorable.” His stomach sank. “Your deception was vile, and I should toss you away and never think of you again…but I cannot. It would seem my heart is far less rational than my head. You are a special man and a remarkable role model for Archie. You chipped away at our hearts and, ever since you left, we have all missed you terribly.”
Dorian felt like he was dreaming. Any minute, he was going to wake up broken and in a pool of icy sweat as reality struck him full force.
But he did not wake up, and it all felt so real.
Could it be…?
Amelia cupped his cheek, and he closed his eyes as he turned his face into the caress.
“Forgive me,” he groaned.
“I already have,” she whispered a moment before she gently touched her lips to his. He pulled her against him, but she broke the kiss. “On one condition,” she said breathily.
“Anything,” he swore adamantly.
She wove her arms around his neck. “Make sure I am the only woman with whom you’re ever caught in a compromising situation.”
Dorian hauled her against him, cupping her bottom with a wicked smile and stealing her breath. “Then let us get caught.”
“You should seethe loch!” Clara gushed to her good friend, Lady Foxton. “The land is so green, and the loch is unlike anything I’ve seen before. It is nothing like our ponds here in England.”
“There you are, Lady Clara. I thought I’d lost you when I went to fetch your drink.”
Her every nerve fired at once, making her tense and highly uncomfortable, but also keenly aware of everything about the man who had approached them, drinks in hand.
“Brinley,” she greeted him, stiff and standoffish. “I did not—”
“I know how you adore the punch served by the Aldboroughs, and I made sure to procure some for you before it ran out.” His tone was a touch too cheery, but it was likely no one who knew him less well would realize it. Clara nearly grasped her friend’s hand and refused to relinquish it, but she had to let her go when her husband appeared and politely apologized for needing to steal her away.
Brinley took Clara’s hand and set one of the glasses of punch into it. It was a wonder it did not slip through her fingers when she felt as if his touch was like lightning to her flesh. “Do not fear; I will not accost you,” he murmured just loudly enough for her to hear. He seemed very sober and serious, but she remained unsure. “Might we speak somewhere where we will not be interrupted?”
Against her better judgment, Clara agreed—if only because she could think of nothing else appropriate to say. Brinley skillfully maneuvered them to an alcove where Lady Sandford, her temporary chaperone, could see them, but not overhear their conversation.
“I am here because I must apologize for the way I behaved at Coylton Castle; it was far from honorable, and you should not have been treated that way. You deserve more respect than that—not only as my friend’s sister, but as a woman. I cannot make any promises, but I will strive to improve my behavior from hereon out.” He bowed low over her hand, placing a warm, lingering kiss upon her knuckles before disappearing into the crowd.
Clara watched him leave and held her hand in the other, wondering at the curious expression she’d seen in his eyes.
Epilogue
Several months later,Amelia woke drowsily, stretching unhurriedly, her bare skin sliding along the smooth sheets. She turned and opened her eyes to find Dorian already watching her, his head propped up on his hand, bared to the waist to reveal the glorious curves and dips of his body. She giggled and reached for him.
“What are you doing?”
“Aren’t I allowed to watch my wife sleep?” he asked and then pressed a few open-mouthed kisses to her against her bare throat and collarbone. All her protests died away when she felt the hard heat of his arousal against her hip.
They’d been home from their honeymoon trip for a couple of weeks already, but it seemed her new husband was particularly insatiable and determined to make up for lost time. Their hasty wedding by special license had stirred up old memories and set the London tongues back to wagging. Gossips had immediately begun salivating with speculation over what had caused such a sudden change of heart and brought together a couple who, a decade prior, had gone through a very public dissolution of their first engagement.
They knew, however, that they owed no one an explanation, and regardless, Amelia and Dorian were settling well into their new life together. They planned on spending the rest of the Season in Town and would return to Scotland for the summer.They’d relocated Archie to the London Townhouse to begin more formal schooling, and Dorian had continued working with the boy to overcome his fear of horses. Much to Amelia’s delight, she’d been there to witness the bond between two of her favorite people develop and grow. Dorian took to being a father figure as smoothly as her son came to enjoy having one again.
Just as Dorian rolled to pull Amelia atop him, a gangly pup, all awkward legs, floppy ears, and lolling tongue, scrambled onto the bed. Bonnie, Amelia’s gift from Dorian, pounced on them. Though she was not yet one year old, the pup was growing remarkably quickly. She and her brother were going to be enormous examples of their breed; something Dorian would grumble about now and again. He claimed to regret his decision to purchase the dogs, especially since Amelia insisted the pup sleep in their bedchamber each night, but everyone saw how much he enjoyed walking with them in the park and how he looked forward to exploring the Scottish countryside with them.
“Gah! Back, beast! Back, I say!” They broke their embrace as Dorian attempted to fend off Bonnie. Amelia laughed and slid from the bed as he finally convinced the dog to leave him alone.
“She probably needs to go outside.” Amelia pulled on her dressing gown just as the door burst open to admit Archie and his dog, Wallace. They bounced around, the canine siblings rolling and wrestling.
“Archie! Have one of the footmen take the dogs to the garden, if you please,” Amelia practically shouted above the din. She nearly believed it a miracle when the lad and the dogs fled the room. She shut the door behind the circus with a dramatic sigh.
“Lord, but I miss my quiet mornings,” Dorian complained, but both knew neither would have it any other way. They loved every second of their busy, chaotic life.
Amelia watched Dorian admire her as she stood. Inspired, she slowly strolled back to the bed, toying with the sash of her dressing gown as she walked. She admired his graceful form stretched out on the mattress, savoring the sight for several long minutes before she climbed up and straddled his hips. He watched her every movement appreciatively.
“I do believe we each have meetings with our respective solicitors today,” she said, speaking as if she could not feel the ridge of her husband’s returning arousal. His hands coasted up her thighs. “Archie requires some new shoes, and I think Clara—”
“Must we really do all of that? Because I can find much better ways to waste our time.” His fingers trailed higher, causing the hem of her dressing gown to ride up and up…
“We really must,” she answered, trying to sound convincing and serious, but she didn’t think it was working very well.
“Then I suppose we should get started,” Dorian said, his voice a deep rumble as he parted her dressing gown to reveal her from throat to cleft. “Wouldn’t want to waste any more time…”
Amelia’s head fell back as his fingers began a torturously slow journey between her legs.
