Those sensual lips smiled, and he nodded, but there was a ruthless glint in his eyes that promised he would ruin anyone who even tried to harm her. What did she do to deserve this man? How marvelous it was to be loved by him so passionately.
“Let’s get you back to the manor,” he murmured, easing her onto the grass, and pushed himself to his feet with grace despite his awful disarray. He was soaked, and there were clumps of mud in his hair. She couldn’t imagine how ghastly she must appear, and the furor their disheveled presence would cause upon their return.
She glanced around to see the others had turned around, unable to cross over.
She felt free, uncaring of their judgment and expectations. She shot a side-glance at Rhys, the love swelling inside her so deep her throat tightened. He met her gaze, and a slow smile curved his beautiful lips.
I love you, he mouthed, and she laughed softly.
Rhys came up behind her, his hands spanning her waist, hugging her close. His grip was steady and unbreakable, so gentle. As always, her pulse jumped wildly.
“You will never have cause to regret being my wife,” he promised. “I’ll love you forever.”
He splayed his fingers across the span of her stomach. Georgiana turned in his arms, her fingertips gently tracing the hard line of his jaw. “I know. And I’ll never give you cause to regret asking me. I love you completely, Rhys. The rumors will be rabid. Though I am desperate to return to the manor and just slide between the sheets with you, I believe we should attend dinner and announce our engagement,” she said with a wide smile.
“The uproar will be great,” he murmured.
“And I don’t give a bloody damn,” she said with pleasure.
“Ah, my duchess, where have you been hiding that sweet vulgar tongue? Tell me what else is a part of your repertoire.” He kissed her, a mere brush of his lips against hers. “I will lay the world at your feet.”
“You already did when you loved me so unequivocally.”
Dear God, happiness is real. And she had found it with this man, and she would not relinquish it for any reason.
Epilogue
Ten months later…
“You will be the most sought-after heiress at your debut, and I promise to try not to be frightening to your suitors,” Rhys murmured lovingly to his three-month-old daughter, Emmeline Elizabeth Tremayne, who chortled happily as if she understood.
Georgiana laughed and lightly punched his arm, a swell of happiness bursting in her heart. She had expected to find Rhys in the nursery regaling their daughter with some tale, a daily pastime of his that he refused to relinquish despite her tender age. He insisted his daughter anticipated his visits, and perhaps he was correct if her smile and pumping legs were indicators.
“You will also be the most powerful,” he crooned. “For my arsenal of secrets will be yours, and you’ll have society at your whim.”
“She most certainly will not,” Georgiana said, laughing, accepting the cherub he placed tenderly in her arms.
Rhys hugged her from behind, a sigh of contentment issuing from him. They stood like that for a lingering moment while she peered down at her daughter. He pressed his lips against the side of her forehead, tiny little kisses, spreading warmth through her body.
“I love you, my duchess.”
She turned slightly, lifting her head to meet the descent of his lips. “I love you, Mr. Tremayne.” He kissed her slowly and quite thoroughly before lifting his head.
“I have a swim date with Nicolas. Meet me in the southside gazebo in an hour’s time,” he said, winking suggestively.
Georgiana smiled. They had resumed making love only three weeks past, and every day her husband delighted in ravishing her. They hadn’t stopped being wicked, and she had come to realize their fiery passion would forever burn brightly. Rhys pressed a kiss to his daughter’s forehead, whispering how much he loved her, then sauntered from the nursery. Georgiana strolled with her babe in arms to the windows that overlooked the most glorious sections of the palatial gardens of the stately manor house Rhys had bought in Kent. They were only an hour’s ride away from Meadowbrook Park, and they spent equal time at both estates.
She smiled when she espied him walking toward the lake with her son atop his shoulders, their dogs bounding happily along. The manner in which Rhys loved her son never failed to amaze her, and Nicolas loved him just as fiercely. Their marriage had caused quite a stir within society, and while many had been judgmental, several influential friends had stood by them. Rhys had also been surprised by the uncompromising support of Lord Mansfield and a few other lords who respected the power and connections he wielded.
His mother had recently married the Earl of Gaskill, while Lydia rejected two marriage offers, shocking and intriguing society in equal measure. All in all, their family was quite notorious, and Georgiana would have it no other way.
Shifting her daughter in her arms, Georgiana glanced down. “It’s time for your mamma to tell you a story, my sweetheart. Once there was a duchess who had a cold and lonely heart. She desperately wanted to be happy and thought a prince was her heart’s desire. Then she met the most fearsome of warriors…”