“I love you.” His voice rasped.
“Love you.” Naomi could barely hold her head up as sensations and emotions overwhelmed every part of her person. “Love you.”
She went to close her eyes, but he stopped her with his voice. “Stay with me.”
He pistoned his hips up and her eyes rolled back. Still, she forced herself to fight the heaviness and meet his gaze. “With you.” She exhaled, gasping as he stroked inside of her.
Tingling spread from her chest to her arms and even her fingertips as she rode him. When she finally closed her eyes, intoxicated by her surge of release, white stars flooded her vision.
Luke thrust deep, deeper, grasping her hips against his, and then with a guttural sound, surrendered to his own release.
Words were not necessary as they clung to one another, catching their breath, listening to the sounds of their heartbeats returning to normal and the thrumming of the waterfall landing in the pool.
“This was the first time with my husband,” Naomi finally murmured, smiling as she rested her cheek against his chest.
“As my wife.” Luke’s voice rumbled beneath her.
“Lady Lucas.” And then she leaned back. “I don’t want to wait. We’ve waited long enough already.” But they could not simply tell the world they were married.
Luke’s gaze met hers. “You are willing to accept possible ridicule?”
Her parents were finally prepared to acknowledge her again. “If they love me, if they wish to know their grandchildren, they will have to make their own decision. We’ve already waited too long, Luke.”
“You are certain?” Brilliant sapphire eyes studied hers.
“I am.”
He slowly stretched his mouth into a grin. “Shall we have the banns read this Sunday then?”
“Yes.” She nodded slowly. “It’s time.”
Epilogue
Barely three weeks later, on a warm October Sunday afternoon, Naomi watched as her husband, Lord Lucas Cockfield, signed their marriage certificate with an unusually elaborate flourish.
The vicar slid the parchment across the smooth table and she glanced over at her husband with a secret smile.
It was not the first time she’d signed such a document, but she intended that it would most definitely be the last.
She signed her legal name, Naomi Catherine Augustine. Following months of waiting, she and Luke could finally, officially, belong to one another.
“Well, Lady Lucas.” Luke removed the pen from her hand and passed it along to the same two witnesses who’d stood up for them last year. Luke took her into his arms. “I hope you have nothing planned for the next fifty or sixty years, because I have grand plans for the three of us.”
“Or four?” she teased.
“Or more,” he agreed.
The ceremony, which had been held in the 500-year-old chapel that was the cornerstone of the local village, had been small but all the people who mattered had been in attendance and awaited them outside.
Three of whom were Naomi’s very own family.
After a few uncomfortable conversations, the rift between Naomi and her father was well on the way to being healed. Her mother, sister, and brother had secretly supported her all along and had been unwilling to allow the rift to persist—despite Naomi ignoring the rules of mourning. Now, having met little Amelia, there was little chance they would allow her to keep away in the future. Naomi’s daughter, with her hair that was turning more blonde with each passing day and her smiling chestnut eyes so very reminiscent of her father’s, had captured everyone’s hearts and she showed no signs of setting them free anytime soon.
In addition to Blackheart and his new duchess, Lucinda and her young husband were in attendance as was, of course, Lydia.
The most surprising guest of all was Lord Tempest. Strictly out of courtesy, Naomi had sent an invitation to Galewick Manor but she had not really expected a response. Arthur’s brother had returned a carefully worded response that stated he would be honored to attend.
For legal purposes, Luke had told Arthur’s brother everything.
Somber as ever, Lord Tempest had sat beside Lydia throughout the ceremony. As executor of Arthur’s estate, it had been necessary that he learn the truth of Arthur’s deceptions as well as the private wedding ceremony last December. He’d informed Luke that he would attend on behalf of himself and his mother.
“Are you ready?” Luke flicked his gaze toward the doors.
“Should we make a mad dash? Or shall we stroll outside looking dignified in the face of an onslaught of petals?” Naomi grinned back up at him. No matter how many times she stared at this man, she found it hard to believe he had come into her life at the time when she needed him most.
She’d always considered him the most handsome man of her acquaintance, but today, on their wedding day, he truly was beautiful.
Naomi realized she had Blackheart to thank that her husband had decided against wearing his normal black coat and hat in favor of a jacket and embroidered waistcoat that were nearly the identical color of his eyes. The lace at his wrists, along with matching tailored britches and buckled shoes provided the magnificence one would expect of the second son of a duke.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are yet?” He leaned down. The gravelly tone of his voice sent familiar heat flowing through her. Tonight, would not be the first night that the two of them made love, but it was the first time they could do so without meeting furtively. This would be the first time she could wake in his arms since they’d been together at Milton Cottage.
“I’m not nearly as beautiful as my groom,” she teased him and then thrilled at the growling sound he made near her ear.
“Brace yourselves.” Blackheart stood at the door, one hand prepared to open it for them.
She was so happy. So very happy. She smiled over at Luke’s brother. “Thank you—for everything.” Without the assistance of her brother-in-law, she wondered if any of this would have been possible.
But Luke’s hand rested on the small of her back.
It would have been possible. They would have found their way to one another. Because their hope and love had been self-perpetuating.
Her most distinguished brother-in-law sent her an unexpected wink the moment before he pushed open the door, permitting sunshine to flood the vestibule.
With laughter bubbling past her lips, she clasped her husband’s hand as he led her into the shower of orange and yellow petals—some falling from the sky and some pummeling them from the crowd directly. Far more onlookers awaited them than she’d expected. Local villagers and servants, those who merely wished to celebrate their union for the sake of celebrating love.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of her baby girl in the arms of her own mother, looking startled and entranced by the sudden explosion of delicate petals in the air. She and Luke would take one week to themselves in Brighton before returning to collect their daughter and then traveling to his estate in Kent.
In a gesture to put the past firmly behind them, Naomi had transferred ownership of Milton Cottage to Bridget. It was the least Naomi could do. Whereas she had a beautiful daughter, husband, and family, Bridget yet mourned the loss of her lover alone.
But for the grace of God, she’d explained to Luke, it could have been her.