A Duchess a Day (Awakened by a Kiss #1) - Charis Michaels Page 0,109
was hoping for the white gown,” he said, running his hands over her breasts, kissing her again. “I cannot lie.”
“The white gown was for when I had nothing left to lose. Now . . .” she kissed him so deeply, “. . . now I have everything to lose.”
“God, I love you,” he said, and he freed himself and lifted her up, settling her down on him slowly, so slowly. “You deserve a proper bed,” he bit out, straining to hold her and love her at the same time.
“I need you,” she moaned against him.
“Whatever you need, my lady,” he whispered into her ear, “I am here to serve.”
Epilogue
Declan and Helena Shaw walked through the shady bower of Castle Wood hand in hand. Springtime had awakened colors so vivid nature glowed all around them.
Declan was grateful the verdant forest seemed to forestall speech. He was struggling with what to say. They walked in silence, enjoying the dappled sun, as he searched for the correct words.
“The duke and Miss Snow called on us last week,” Helena said, breaking the silence.
Declan chuckled. Knightly Snow had been a means to an end, but it thrilled them that, six months on, the combustible couple of Lusk and Miss Knightly Snow had endured.
“Oh?” Declan said. “Any plans for a wedding?”
“They did not mention it and I dared not ask. But they appeared very happy. That is saying quite a lot, considering Lusk has always hated the countryside. I cannot believe she convinced him to leave London.”
“But why are they in Somerset?”
“To host a house party apparently,” said Helena. “The first and best of the summer, according to Miss Snow. I think perhaps she has elicited some talk in London, carrying on with the duke yet refusing to commit to a future. The season is not yet over and they’ve fled here. She mentioned she is now in the company of a chaperone.”
“God bless that poor woman,” mumbled Declan.
Helena snorted. “Indeed. But they were alone together when they called. They’d ridden to Castle Wood to clip apple blossoms for a bower she hopes to construct for her party. I told her she may return as often as she likes.”
Declan nodded and they walked from the cover of trees to a sunny clearing.
Helena said, “They invited us to be guests at the party.”
“Ah,” said Declan, glancing at her. He hadn’t managed to shake his fear that Helena would eventually regret her life as Mrs. Shaw, Mercenary’s Wife. If she’d married a gentleman, house parties would be a matter of course. He’d rather return to battle than attend a house party at a nobleman’s estate. “And what did you tell her?”
Helena laughed. “Ah, ‘No, thank you,’ is what I said. Naturally. I vowed never to repeat another society function after that horrifying game of Mirror-Mirror.”
Declan released a breath. They came to the stump of a tree that Declan had chopped down on his last visit home. The tree was dead and threatened to fall during winter storms, blocking the bridle path. He’d left the stump, a convenient stool in the secluded haven in the wood.
In the six months since they’d been married, Declan had enjoyed some extended visits home—a week or two—while other visits were only a handful of days. His clients required different levels of security or surveillance, and he felt compelled to take every high-paying job that came along.
He settled now on the stump and reached for his wife, pulling her to him. He missed her so much when he was away, far more than he’d expected; in fact, he missed her more than seemed sustainable. He wanted to be here, with her, always.
Before he met Helena, he’d thought taking a wife would interrupt his soldiering. He’d not been prepared for soldiering to get in the way of his marriage. He wanted out of mercenary work. He wanted out of travel. He wanted to be home. But how could he say this? Helena had made no demands on his schedule or the travel. She was sad when he left and overjoyed when he returned, but she did not complain. In fact, she looked after his father in his absence and had taken a gentle guiding hand with his sisters. She was busy with her orchard and the crofters. She was working to rebuild a relationship with her own sisters and parents.
She was the perfect mercenary’s wife, but Declan could only think: I simply want the wife. Not to be the mercenary.