The Rogue's Reluctant Rose (29 page)

***

Araminta was unable to look away as he slowly slid his gaze down her body. She could see the heat in his steely eyes, the appreciation and desire clearly written across his handsome face.

They were alone at last, in his bedroom at St James Square. Araminta’s heart was pounding with anticipation under Chestleton’s gaze, his every look hinting at what was yet to come: the final resolution of the passion that had so long existed between them.

She felt hypnotised by his every movement. The marquis shot her a wicked grin before removing his coat, shortly followed by his waistcoat and lace cravat. He loosened the ties on his silk shirt, and before she knew it, it had joined his other clothes on the floor.

“Don’t be afraid, my rose,” he breathed, noticing her fascinated gaze tracing the muscular plains of his chest. His movements were as sinuous as a stalking panther as he approached her. “You will know nothing but pleasure tonight.”

A strong finger under her chin forced her to meet his eyes, which were dark with desire. “You are so very beautiful, my love.” His voice was already somewhat ragged and she felt once more a heady rush at the power she held over him.

His other hand slid to the laces at the back of her gown, easily undoing them, his eyes never leaving hers, until the gown dropped to the floor and she stood before him in nothing but her shift, her slender frame outlined by the clinging fabric. Araminta shivered, though it was not cold.

His hand in the small of her back pulled her closer to him, as though wanting to absorb her into himself. The part of Araminta’s brain that had not already been utterly consumed by desire marvelled at how right it felt. She knew she wanted more…
much
more.

His eager mouth captured hers in a kiss that made her head spin.

Pleasure washed over her in a blinding sensation as her hands ran eagerly over his back and she wasn’t sure her legs would support her much longer. She could not get enough of touching him. Her husband. Hers at last.

Hours later, as they lay in the soft haze of happiness and love, his arm possessively around her slender waist, a small, soft smile played around the edges of the mouth Araminta could not believe she had ever thought cruel.

“My wife,” he’d whispered, savouring the words like a fine wine. “Mine, forever.”

“Forever,” she agreed, burrowing deeper into his warm embrace.

***

The Marquis of Chestleton continued to live up to the high standard he had set during their wedding night. He had taken her to Chestleton Castle for their honeymoon, and Araminta was delighted to find Charlotte, Mrs Kingston and Mrs Becker in residence. They’d stayed there for two blissful months.

Charlotte had bubbled over with delight at having Araminta for her new mother and the elderly ladies had expressed their relief at seeing the two finally married.

“Oh, my lady, it was evident from the first that his lordship could not take his eyes off you,” said Mrs Becker, enjoying a celebratory glass of sherry.

“Yes, indeed. We knew it was a matter of time before his lordship made things right between you,” agreed Charlotte’s governess. Araminta could not even find it within her to be embarrassed at these words, but only giggled.

Araminta and Chestleton were lost in each other, and while they spent their days riding around the estate and playing with Charlotte on the lawns, their nights were for them alone. Just the thought of the passion and intimacy of their marriage bed made Araminta tingle with anticipation.

Araminta had been more than happy to take her husband’s daughter as her own, and Charlotte was more than happy to accept her in the role of mother.

At the end of the honeymoon, her husband had declared that he meant to take her to Fanshawe, to visit Harriet and her nephew, aware of the strong connection Araminta had with her family home.

Araminta sat leaning against her husband’s warm shoulder, trying not to fall asleep at the gentle sway of the chaise beneath them. She could not wait to see her beloved childhood home and her family again. She smiled to herself, thinking of her father and her brother, the many happy memories that the old house held for her. They would have been so happy for her, she knew. And she was already making new memories in the home she now shared with her husband.

Soon, she and Chestleton would be celebrating another addition to their own family.

Tonight, when they were alone in their rooms at Fanshawe Hall, she would tell him that in seven months, she would present him with a gift more precious than anything else she could give him … A baby created out of their love.