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Authors: Anne Gracie

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BOOK: The Virtuous Widow
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Ellie thought of how she had told Daniel weeks before that they had already “made love,” without having joined, flesh with flesh. She remembered the look on his face as she’d said it, a little quizzical, a little knowing…indulgent.

How naïve she’d been. She hadn’t understood that the act of making love with Daniel would bring another dimension to that love, a deep, powerful intimacy that was not merely physical…though it was intensely physical. She would never forget that first, almost terrifying intimacy, the intensity as she’d exploded into helpless, splintering waves of pleasure under his eyes.

She’d assumed that because the physical act had been unimportant in her marriage to Hart, it would be the same with Daniel. She’d believed it was, by its nature, crude, furtive and only necessary for the procreation of an heir. Because that’s how Hart had seen it.

But nothing was the same with Daniel. With Daniel it was…a joyous celebration. A glorious, elemental claiming, in which they united in a way that she had never imagined. It was not a mere fleshly joining—it was…everything. Body, mind, soul. She shivered with remembrance. And pleasure. With Daniel it had been an act of reverence as well as earthy delight. They had made love so many times and the echo of it was with her still. It was as if in one night their bodies had become forever joined, with invisible, unbreakable threads.

The coach swayed along. Awareness shimmered between them, recalling moments of shattering delight. She did not simply love Daniel, she was part of him. And he of her.

With tender eyes she watched him, playing a children’s clapping game with Amy, pretending bearish clumsiness with his big, calloused hands. She felt a ripple, deep within her body, as she watched. There was nothing clumsy about those big, beautiful hands. They had taught her body how to sing; it was singing still, within her, deep and silent.

He had transformed her in the night, murmuring endearments, caressing her in places never before caressed, creating sensations she’d never known…nor even imagined. It was as if he knew her body better than she did herself.

Ellie caught his eye, and saw the lurking wolf-smile in it. His gaze sharpened, as if he knew what she’d been thinking, and she felt herself blush as his look turned suddenly intense and hungry. He wanted her. In the course of a single night he’d loved every part of her with hands and mouth and eyes, bringing her alive as she’d never known was possible. And she’d gloried in it so that the wonder still spilled from her…

She couldn’t wait for the night to come. Last night she had been the novice, reduced to a blissful jelly by his loving attentions, but it hadn’t escaped her that he seemed to enjoy being touched the same way she did. Tonight it would be her turn to explore him. She felt herself smile, a small, secret triumphant feminine smile, and then she caught his eye again, and blushed scarlet as if he’d read her mind.

Passion. She’d never understood it before. An incendiary mix of primitive power…and sublime pleasure. Explosive. Ready to reignite at a look, a touch, a thought…

Though it was only afternoon, dark was falling by the time they turned in at two large stone gateposts, topped by lions. They received their first sight of Rothbury House a few moments later.

It was ablaze with light. The house was huge with dozens of windows. In every window there were cand burning. As they drew closer, Ellie could see they were red candles. Christmas candles.

“Remember how you told me about your wishing candle?” Daniel addressed Amy. “Those are wishing candles for us, to bring us all home safe and sound.”

Amy’s eyes shone. Ellie lifted his hand and held it against her cheek. It wasn’t true—it was probably a tradition of the Big House, but it was a lovely thought, to make a little girl feel welcomed. Daniel put his arm around Ellie and smiled.

The coach pulled up at a flight of steps. “The front door?” whispered Ellie, surprised.

Daniel shrugged. “I’m under orders to present you to the Dowager without delay. She prides herself on knowing everyone on the estate. And it is her carriage, don’t forget.”

“Oh, dear!” Ellie nervously ran a hand over her hair and tried to smooth her travel-crushed clothing. She hoped the Dowager would not be too demanding an employer.

In the magnificent hallway, an elegant lady awaited them. Silver-haired, she was the epitome of elegance, dressed in the first stare of fashion in a black gown, a black shawl in Norwich silk dangling negligently from her elbows.

“Ellie, I’d like you to meet the Dowager Viscountess, Lady Rothbury,” said Daniel.

Ellie curtsied to her new employer.

“Mother, this is my wife, Elinor, the new Viscountess of Rothbury.”

Ellie, still curtsying, nearly fell over. Daniel bent down and helped her up.

“But I thought I was to be the new housekeeper!” gasped Ellie. “You mean, you’re, you’re—”

He bowed. “Viscount Rothbury, at your service, my dear.” His blue, blue eyes twinkled wickedly as he kissed her hand in a way that made Ellie blush.

“My son is tiresomely reticent about some things,” the lady said sympathetically. “He told
me
he was bringing home a cottage wench, but you are as beautiful and elegant as any of the suitable young ladies I have been flinging so uselessly at his head this age.”

“Much more beautiful,” growled Daniel’s deep voice and he grinned down at Ellie, who looked flustered and adoring at the same time.

The Dowager Viscountess gave a small, satisfied nod. She moved forward and drew Ellie into a warm, scented embrace. “Welcome to the family, my dear girl. I think you will do very nicely indeed for my scapegrace son.”

“The scapegrace son agrees with you, Mother.”

Lady Rothbury’s eyes dropped to whereAmy was loitering in the shadows of her mother’s skirts, a little overwhelmed by everything that had happened. “And who have we here?” she said softly. “Can this be my beautiful new granddaughter? My son promised me I would love her instantly.”

Ellie’s chest was suddenly ght. Such welcome as this she had never dared to dream of. Her daughter would be loved in this house.

Amy examined the older lady with wide, candid eyes. “Are you really Mr. Bruin’s mama?”

“Mr. Bruin? Is that what you call my son? Yes, I am his mama. May I ask why you call him Mr. Bruin?”

“That’s ‘cause he looked just like a bear when he came to me and Mama. He was all prickly.”

Lady Rothbury laughed. “A most perspicacious young lady. A prickly bear is exactly how I would describe my son at times.” She smiled down at Amy.

Amy looked thoughtful. “I haven’t got a grandmother,” the little girl said shyly.

The Dowager Viscountess held out her hand and said softly, “You have one now.” Amy glanced at her mother for permission, then, beaming, took the older lady’s hand.

Lady Rothbury smiled at Ellie through tear-blurred eyes. “Thank you, my dear. You have made my son and me happier than I would have believed possible.”

Ellie couldn’t say a word. She was blinking away her own tears.

“Now,” continued the older lady, “I have something for my beautiful new granddaughter—a welcome home present which I hope she will enjoy. It isn’t new, I’m afraid—it was mine when I was a little girl. I kept it for my daughters, but I was never blessed with any, so it has remained untouched in the attic these many years. When Daniel told me about his Ellie and her Amy, I had it brought down and cleaned up and I must say, it looks almost as good as it did when I was a child.”

Ellie looked quizzically at Daniel. He shrugged and murmured, “No idea.”

“Come along, Amy.” The little girl’s hand held fast in hers, Lady Rothbury swept down the hall.

Grinning, Daniel called, “She’s a princess, Mother. You have to call her Princess Amy.”

His mother turned, regally. “Of course she’s a princess. She’s my granddaughter.”

“Come on, I want to see, too,” said Ellie. But his arm restrained her.

“In a moment, love. You don’t mind if I call you love, now, do you?”

Ellie shook her head, barely able to talk for the happiness that swelled within her.

“Before we see what my mother has up her sleeve for Princess Amy, you have your first duty as Lady Rothbury to perform.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” said Ellie, suddenly apprehensive. “What must I do?”

He tugged her half a dozen steps to the left and then stopped. And waited.

“What is it?”

His eyes drifted upwards. Her gaze followed. A branch twisted wth mistletoe.

“Ohh,” whispered Ellie. “A kissing bough. That duty I can see is going to be very arduous. I might need help.” And, standing on tiptoe, she reached up and pulled his mouth down to hers.

After a moment, they separated reluctantly. “You have a choice, my love—we go into the drawing room, or straight up to the bedroom.”

Breathlessly, Ellie straightened her gown. “I think it had better be the drawing room. And then…” she looked at his mouth and pressed a quick, hungry kiss on it “…the bedroom.”

Arms around each other they strolled towards the drawing room, pausing every few paces for a kiss. At the threshold they stopped. Lady Rothbury sat on a small footstool beside a low table. Amy stood beside her, her little face a study. Ellie gasped.

Amy turned. Her eyes were shimmering with wonder. “Look, Mama,” she whispered. “Have you ever, ever,
ever
, seen such a beautiful dolls’ house?”

Ellie speechless, shook her head, smiling as the tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Look, Mr. Bruin.”

“You can call me Papa, if you like, Princess.” Daniel turned Ellie in his arms and began to dry her tears. “I thought you told me you weren’t a watering pot,” he grumbled softly, making her laugh, even as she wept.

“Can I, Mama? Can I call Mr. Bruin Papa?”

“Yes, darling. Of course you can. He is your papa now.”

“Good,” said the little girl in satisfaction. “I told you that my Christmas wishing candle was special, Mama. It did bring Papa to us.”

“Yes darling, it did.”

“Look, everyone,” said Lady Rothbury suddenly. “It’s snowing.”

Outside the long windows, across the bright, dancing flames of the red Christmas candles, it began to snow, softly, gently, blanketing the world with white, making everything clean and new and fresh again.

And so it was Christmas Eve. Filled with peace, love, and the promise of joy to come.

All the characters in this book have no existence outside the
imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone
bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired
by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the
incidents are pure invention
.

All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or
in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with
Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or
any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form
or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, storage in an information retrieval syrprises, or otherwise,
without the written permission of the publisher
.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of
trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated
without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or
cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar
condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent
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.

®
and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner
and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with
®
are registered with the
United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation
in the Internal Market and in other countries
.

First published in Great Britain 2008
by Harlequin Mills & Boon Limited,
Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

© Anne Gracie 2002

ISBN: 9781408904381

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