Six Months Later

Louisa dropped the newspaper with a sigh; four months later, after she and Isaac had married, there were still reports going around them. The ton had been scandalized that a commoner had been inducted into the realm of the top ten thousand. But Isaac had not cared then, and months later, he still did not mind them.

She set it aside and went back to her afternoon tea while gazing out the window at the winter landscape beyond. The trees were covered with white, as was the ground beyond. A day ago, Isaac took her through a snow-ride covered Hyde Park and a warm luncheon at Almacks later.

Thinking of him, of the glimmer of love in his warm eyes, the tender words they shared at night, and the warm possessive hold he held her with at night made a warm smile cross her face. God, she loved that man for everything he was, all his imperfections and faults, she loved him, and he knew he repaid her in kind.

Being the Duchess of Westwood had come with a robust educational curve, and she was still learning. Most days, she had dancing and French lessons. Isaac taught her a few things about laws and legislature, but she preferred to be hands-on in the community.

She made sure the charity schools were up to scratch, that the churches made sure to check in and provide for invalids and the poor. Her next project was to get brilliant young women to become more educated than they thought they could be.

Isaac had even gotten a few Cambridge teachers to volunteer and teach these girls. She hoped that, even though there would be backlash from the ton and traditionalists, it would go through.

She set the cup down, reached for the stack of letters, and sorted through them. A letter in the flowery script of Liliana Langely, Lord Ashford’s sister, was there; the young woman was to her like who Lord Ashburn, was to Isaac.

Liliana slipped her notes about the many happenings in the ton that she was not privy to, as the Lords and Ladies were still not ready to include her. The lady was still somewhere in London at one of her friend’s houses for the season, but even with her busy schedules of balls and soirees, she still found time to write to Louisa.

After opening the letter, the first line made her brows rise. “That is interesting. I wonder what Isaac will think when he sees it.”

Putting the letter away, she rose from her seat and left for the kitchen; she needed to set the menu for the day. While taking the first stair, Louisa remembered the first time she had gone to the kitchens as the Duchess of the house. It had been bizarre seeing women there who she used to work with.

But she had not treated them any different from when she had been one of them; instead, with her knowing the challenges that stood behind those doors, she went out of her way to show them all with more respect and consideration.

She entered the room to see Miss Morna there, her hands coated in a thin film of flour dust.

“Your Grace,” the cook smiled. “How are you this morning?”

“Very good, Miss Morna,” Louisa returned her cheerful greeting. “I’ve to request a special meal this evening; your delightful pheasant pie, white soup, and your sweet honey cake.”

The cook dusted her hands off and smiled. “I’ll be happy to, Your Grace, and I am touched that you love my pie so much.”

“You are doing a wonderful job,” Louisa assured her. “Thank you.”

She left for the front rooms, but Lucy came to her. “Pardon me, Your Grace, but the new curtains for the spare rooms have come. Shall we put them up now or before Christmas?”

“Air the rooms for a few days, and then put the curtains up. We are just a sennight away from the Christmastide anyway,” Louisa directed. “That should do it. Sent the old one to the tailor if they need stitching, and then they’ll be donated to the orphanage.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Lucy curtsied. “And I believe His Grace has just arrived.”

“Wonderful, thank you.” Louisa smiled and went to the front room just as Isaac was coming in from the foyer.

He spotted her but, before going forward, brushed the lingering dots of snow from his jacket. “Greeting me at the door, Darling?”

Snorting, Louisa brushed his lapel. “No, no, this was providence. I was coming from the kitchens after requesting our evening meal. How was London?”

“Utterly aggravating and mind-numbing,” Isaac shrugged. “Nothing much different from the other days.”

Laughing, Louisa tugged him to the stairs. “Come to our room and tell me all about it, but I have more news for you first.”

“And what would that be?” Isaac asked as he mounted the steps and they crossed the landing to their quarters. “Has Langley finally found his way back from Scotland?”

“I am not sure about that yet, but Miss Langley did write to me,” Louisa said as they entered the suite of rooms. “One moment.”

She hurried to the drawing-room and plucked up the card and hurried back to the room. Isaac had done away with his jacket immediately and had tugged his cravat loose. He was pouring out a glass of brandy while she came in and handed him the card.

Isaac skimmed it. “A minor Lord? Is this the right Helena Follet?”

Forcing her lips not to twitch, Louisa said, “I am pretty sure. Lilliana had not been wrong once when she sends back news from London. I wish Helena the best. Perhaps she found love with this man.”

“Love for an invisible estate and coffers?” Isaac quipped. “That will be the day—right, judgment day.”

Slapping him lightly on the arm, Louisa huffed. “You are terrible.”

Putting the glass down, Isaac rolled up his sleeves. “Funny that you should say that—” he dipped down and swept her up in his arms, “-because on the way back from London, all I could think of was doing some very wicked things to you.”

“Isaac!” Louisa gasped.

He peered at her. “Are you protesting?”

She shook her head. “You can have your wicked way with me…just close the door first.”

Laughing, Isaac sat her on her feet, then pivoted to close and bolt the door. When he turned back, Louisa reached up to trace the line of his jaw, one finger tentatively coasting over his lips. She felt a soft tremble coast through him, and Louisa marveled at how much power she had over this man.

He closed his eyes, only to open his lips and envelope her finger in his hot mouth. Now, she was the one to shiver. When his eyes opened, she softly tugged her finger out and tipped on her toes to kiss him and gently moved her mouth against his.

Isaac stood very still, letting her lead the way for a while; her hand cupped his face, and softly, the lead changed to him when she felt flat on her feet; Isaac kissed her with enough heat to curl her toes in her slipper.

When at last she broke the kiss, she smiled up at him, eyes shining. “Isaac, what wicked ways do you have in mind?”

He stepped back to tug his cravat away. “You will just have to see, won’t you?”

After discarding the neckcloth, he removed his jacket and waistcoat while Louisa sat on the edge of the bed. Isaac preferred to disrobe first so he could unclothe her, as if he were an explorer finding new territory. And he’d never tired of in the last half-year that they’d been wed.

The muted glow of the evening sun, filtering through the drapes, lay over his chest and broad shoulders and cast shadows and highlights over his sculpted body. His hands went to his waist, and he stripped his trousers and underclothes off; Louisa’s breath caught in her chest.

Freed from the restraints of clothing, his manhood rose. She stood then and turned her back to him, lifting her hair so he could remove the necklace she had on. His fingers undid the clasp and put the simple diamond choker on the table.

From the day they had married, Isaac had filled her closets with finery and frippery fit for a queen, and more jewelry than she could wear in one lifetime, but she made sure to dress simply but elegantly. While her heart thudded in her chest, his fingers dipped to the sash around her waist.

He tilted her head to the side and kissed up her neck while undoing the tiny buttons down her back, loosening her dress until it could slip it off her shoulders, baring her fair skin. She shivered when his hot palms coasted over the bare skin of her arms.

He did away with her corset, and the thin silk of her chemise only enhanced the pink tips of her breasts. Isaac brushed his hand over her breast as he tightened his fingers on the nub, causing her to gasp deeply. Her hair was falling loose and richly red over the paleness of her chemise and skin.

He did away with the slip of silk between them, and when he rested her on the bed, passion and wonder showed in his eyes. Isaac took her lips and swept his tongue into her mouth, and when he pulled away, to pepper kisses over her jaw and down to her body.

She arched against him, lips parting wide, yielding to every lovely touch and kiss Isaac pulled out of her. Heat flared up her spine as he cupped her breast with one hand and placed his mouth over the other.

“Ah.” Her head flung back, making her body one slender bundle of passion, lost in the heady pleasure.

He laid hot kisses, open-mouthed kisses down her skin, over her ribs, and dropped light kisses over her stomach. Through the haze of bliss in her body, Louisa knew where he was going, and it was a debauched act that Isaac had introduced her to on their honeymoon in Bath.

She felt every bush of his lips and the rasp of his barely-there whiskers as he traveled down to the center of her, to her womanhood. She tried to prepare for his touch, but when his broad hands spread her legs and felt the flick of his tongue there, on the center of her pleasure, it was pure heaven.

Sinking a hand in his hair, Louisa moaned aloud at the feeling of him lapping at her and the molten pleasure that made her bones into water. His touch was hot, wet, and sinful, but she loved it. Her belly trembled as he explored her body, tracing her folds and circling his tongue over the sensitive bud.

Every touch steered her right up the peak and when she fell over into the sea of bliss, the waves crashed over her, making her entire body go ablaze with unutterable pleasure. Her fingers sunk into his shoulder as the tremble began to subside. When she opened her eyes, he was staring at her, and the look in his eyes was full of adoration and intent.

“I love seeing you like this, so wanton and pleasured,” he swallowed. “God, I love you.”

She combed her hand through his hair. “As do I; I love you. and now, it is my turn to worship you.”

His brows lifted, and obligingly, he turned them so that she rested on his body. Louisa paused a moment to admire her husband, and never-failing, her breath hitched at the clean structure of his broad cheekbones and square jaw.

She slid down his body, trailing kisses over his muscled chest and the tending muscles of his ridged stomach. Isaac sucked in a breath just before she wrapped her fingers around the hot hardness cased in smooth velvety skin, running her fist from root to tip.

.

Louisa bent to taste the salty, musky bead of moisture at his tip. He let out a soft groan, and audible proof of his pleasure made her actions bolder. She lapped the underside of him, licked up the veined pillar of flesh, then fitted her mouth over him.

He groaned again, sliding his hand into her thick locks, and she could feel the blood pulsing just under his skin while her mouth pleasured him. Using her hand and mouth in tandem, she drove him to the brink, where he started swelling.

“Stop.” He breathed out the word in an uneven tone. Reaching down, he caught her by the shoulders and pulled her up. “Another time, love, I will let you pleasure me to your heart’s content, but now, I want to be inside you.”

A flicker of dying red-orange sunlight shimmered over as they switched their places. Louisa fitted her legs over his hips, and he slid himself smoothly inside, filling her, fitting them together, and making them one. And then he moved, taking long, sensual strokes that rocked the two of them while she tilted her hips up, taking him deeper and moving to his rhythm.

She reached, tangled her fingers in his dark hair, and pulled his head down in a wordless desire. His mouth brushed hers lightly before his tongue dipped into her mouth. And when he pulled away, she saw the wild desire searing in his eyes.

Isaac was moving faster now, urgently above and inside her, and she felt the molten heat inside her began to coil tighter. Her fingers dug into his skin as she moved with him, their bodies locking and unlocking as they chased the sweet cataclysm at the end. His jaw was tight, and his blistering gaze was locked on hers, the heat building there, almost hotter than the pleasure swirling through her body.

The ebb and surge of a primal flood built in her body, and she felt desire building to the shattering point. Almost—almost there. Isaac threw his head back, his tremoring release shuddering through him, sparking her pleasure, and she peaked again with a gasping cry.

Braced on his elbows, he lay above her, breathing hard, the pleasant weight of his lower body as she absentmindedly stroked his back comforting. Louisa felt as though their hearts were in rhythm, sharing a single beat and their lungs using the same breath. Untamable joy welled up inside her as Louisa felt him press his lips against her throat, and a single tear rolled down her cheek.

“I love you, Isaac,” she whispered, unwilling to break their intimate bond. His hands slipped under her body, and his arms tightened around her just before he removed himself from her and rolled them both onto their sides, faces just inches apart, his expression so heartbreakingly tender.

“I love you—all of you. I never thought I would ever have such sweetness and bliss in my life, and I will never change a thing.” He smiled.

He held her close, the warmness of their bodies a comfort to them as the last ripples of their lovemaking shivering through her. “It took me a long time to realize what I felt because I had not believed that I would ever be happy again. But then, you came into my life, and I am so glad that morning when I asked you to sit so we could talk. And now I know…”

“Know what?”

He stared at her face as if he were memorizing every feature of it while. one hand lifted to stroke her hair. “True love, Louisa. True love that we will share with our future children.”

Red painted her cheeks as the opportunity to tell Isaac what she had been suspecting for a few weeks now was ripe for the taking. “It’s funny that you should say that because…” she nibbled her lip. “Well, I can’t be sure, but I suppose that in seven or eight months, give or take, we will have another addition to the Montagu home.”

It took a moment for her words to connect with him, and when it did, he stared at her blushing cheeks, his eyes wide with shock—the shock that soon turned to delight. “Do you mean that you and I… we’re going to be…?”

Shyly, Louisa nodded, and Isaac’s hand rested on her still flat belly. “You do not know how happy you are making me.”

“I know there’s already a lot of change ahead, but—”

He kissed her. “But nothing, love. This change is the best thing that has happened to us. Come here, Louisa; nothing will go wrong. Our child, or children, will have two loving parents in a solid home and will grow up strong and stable. God willing, your past will not be their future, nor will the struggles of our past become theirs. We will be together, we will be one, and I assure you, all will be well, and if it now, be sure that I will find a way to make it so. Do you believe me?”

Settled in his warm, assuring hold, Louisa nodded. “Yes, Isaac, I believe you.

“You have already brought me more happiness than I had imagined possible, and now we have more to share,” He titled her face with a palm, “Because you are everything to me.”

“And you are mine, Isaac, the peace, security, and love that I’ve waited for all my life,” Louisa said with glowing eyes as she rested her head on his chest. “This is not a happy ending, it is a blissful beginning, and I am so glad that you are one to share it with me.”

“Me too, love,” he held her close and kissed her temple. “Me too.”

THE END

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