Stolen by the Cursed Duke (Stolen by the Duke #3)

Epilogue

SIX MONTHS LATER

T he gardens at Lady Clifton’s estate were in full bloom, the vibrant colors of late summer spilling across the manicured lawns and winding paths.

The sun cast a warm golden glow over the gathering, the gentle hum of conversation blending with the cheerful melodies of a string quartet. It was a perfect day for a garden party though Charlotte still felt a nervous flutter in her chest.

She glanced at Magnus, who stood by her side with his usual commanding presence, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back. Despite his stoic expression, his thumb brushed absently against her waist in a gesture that spoke of quiet affection. It was a small thing, but it steadied her.

“Relax,” Magnus murmured, leaning in just enough that only she could hear. “You’ve faced far more terrifying crowds than this.”

Charlotte smiled up at him, her cheeks warming. “That’s only because I have had you as my shield,” she replied.

Magnus arched a brow, his lips twitching into a smile. “I think you’ve managed quite well on your own.”

Before she could respond, a familiar voice interrupted. “Charlotte! There you are!”

Lady Galbury swept toward them, her floral gown fluttering as she gestured for them to join a nearby group. Lady Clifton stood at the center, surrounded by Lavinia, Christian, and a scattering of other familiar faces.

Charlotte caught sight of her parents and siblings lingering at the edge of the gathering. Her father sipped a glass of brandy while her mother spoke animatedly with one of the maids.

Surprisingly, they seemed almost pleasant. The tension that had once marred every interaction between them had eased in recent months. Though far from perfect, her parents had made noticeable efforts to improve their behavior.

Her father had even written her a short but heartfelt letter apologizing for his past indifference. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

“Charlotte, my dear!” her grandmother greeted her warmly, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “You look radiant as always. And Magnus—ever the dashing duke. It looks like our little plan worked.” She glanced at Lady Galbury, winking at her.

“You were in on it too?” Charlotte asked. “Lady Galbury’s plan to get Magnus and I together.”

Lady Clifton smiled tight-lipped but nodded. “I told you dear. There’s always a way.”

“Enough of ancient history,” Lady Galbury said, waving a hand in the air. “Alls well that ends well, and as far as I’m concerned, it’s no wonder everyone is talking about you two.”

“Indeed,” Lady Clifton chimed in, her sharp eyes narrowing with faux seriousness. “But I suppose we must forgive them for monopolizing the gossip. After all, the alternative would be dreary tales of the Lord and Lady Kinfield debacle.”

Charlotte tilted her head, curiosity piqued by the quick and amusing conversation between the two older ladies. “The Lord and Lady Kinfield debacle?”

Lady Clifton’s eyes twinkled mischievously.

“Oh, haven’t you heard? Both the former Miss Evans and Lord Kinfield were caught carrying on with others—and barely months after their marriage. It caused quite the scandal. They’ve left the country in disgrace—absolutely ruined, the pair of them.”

Magnus let out a low hum of satisfaction, his hand tightening on Charlotte’s waist. “Poetic justice,” he murmured.

Charlotte couldn’t suppress a smile. She should have felt pity for them, but it was hard not to feel a flash of vindication. “I suppose some matches are doomed from the start,” she said lightly.

“Indeed. You had a lucky escape, my dear,” Lady Clifton said.

Lavinia leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Speaking of matches, I have news,” she announced, drawing everyone’s attention. “Christian and I are expecting.”

The group erupted into congratulations, Lady Clifton clapping her hands with delight while Lady Galbury declared it about time . Charlotte hugged her friend tightly, joy bubbling up as she thought of her her news.

“That’s wonderful,” Charlotte said sincerely. “You’ll be a wonderful mother, Lavinia.”

“And I have no doubt you’ll be joining soon enough,” Lavinia teased, her gaze lingering on Charlotte’s midsection with a knowing look.

Charlotte opened her mouth to respond, but a dry voice cut in. “The whole scene is nauseating,” Reginald drawled, stepping into the circle with a glass of wine in hand. “All this talk of babies and futures. It’s enough to make a man long for exile.”

Charlotte turned to her brother, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “Your day will come, Reginald,” she said. “You just need to find someone who can tolerate you.”

Reginald raised his glass in mock salute. “And may they have the constitution of an ox.”

The group laughed, and Lady Galbury seized the moment to turn her attention back to Charlotte and Magnus. “Speaking of babies,” she said pointedly, her gaze shifting between them, “when are we to hear news from Thornvale? Surely you’re not letting Christian and Lavinia outpace you?”

“Indeed,” Lady Clifton added with a sly smile. “We’re all quite eager to hear an announcement.”

Charlotte glanced at Magnus, her heart skipping a beat. They hadn’t planned to make the news public yet, but his subtle nod gave her the confidence she needed. She turned back to the group, her smile widening.

“Well,” she began, her voice steady despite the nervous flutter in her chest, “since you’re all so curious… we’re delighted to share that I am with child as well.”

The response was immediate and jubilant. Lavinia squealed with delight, pulling Charlotte into another hug, while Lady Galbury declared it the best news of the season. Even Christian offered Magnus a rare smile of genuine approval, clapping him on the shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie.

As the congratulations flowed, Charlotte felt a warmth settle in her chest, the love and support of those around her wrapping around her like a comforting embrace.

She glanced up at Magnus, who watched her with a soft, almost reverent expression. His hand found hers, their fingers intertwining in a silent promise.

“To our babies growing up together,” Lavinia declared, raising her glass in a toast.

“To the future,” Magnus added, his voice low and steady as his gaze held Charlotte’s.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the guests began to tire, Charlotte found herself standing beside Magnus beneath the shade of a sprawling oak, the scent of blooming roses mingling with the cool evening air.

His hand rested possessively at the small of her back, his fingers splayed against the fabric of her gown. It was a casual touch to an onlooker, but Charlotte felt the heat of it searing through her, igniting a familiar fire low in her belly. She glanced up at him. That now-familiar teasing smirk that curled his lips only heightened her anticipation.

“Enjoying yourself, my love?” Magnus asked, his voice low, the words for her ears alone.

Charlotte tilted her head, her smile both playful and coy. “I am. It’s been a wonderful evening.”

His thumb brushed against her spine, a subtle caress that sent shivers racing down her body. “Good,” he murmured, leaning closer so his breath tickled her ear. “Because I have been counting the minutes until I can get you alone.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she refused to look away. “Have you now? And what makes you think I’ll indulge you?”

Magnus chuckled, the sound dark and rich as he took her hand, raising it to his lips. “Because you’re mine,” he whispered against her knuckles, his gaze smoldering as it held hers. “And you want this as much as I do.”

Charlotte’s breath hitched at the promise in his tone, the heat in his eyes sparking an answering need within her. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Magnus tugged her hand, leading her away from the lingering crowd and into the quiet seclusion of the house.

They moved quickly, their footsteps muted against the plush carpeted halls. Each step heightened the tension between them, the air around them electric with unspoken desire. By the time they reached their chambers, Charlotte’s heart was pounding, her pulse thrumming with anticipation.

Magnus didn’t bother with decorum. The moment the door clicked shut, he turned to her, his hands firm on her waist as he backed her against the door. His lips descended on hers, the kiss searing and urgent, stealing the breath from her lungs.

Charlotte moaned softly, her hands threading into his hair as she gave herself over to the raw intensity of his need.

“You drive me mad,” Magnus growled against her lips, his hands already working to undo the buttons of her gown as he repeated those words he always said when he wanted her. “Every smile, every laugh—it’s torture knowing I can’t have you until the rest of the world is gone.”

“Well, they’re gone now,” Charlotte whispered, her voice breathless as she tugged at his cravat, loosening it with trembling fingers, “so stop wasting time, Your Grace.”

Magnus’s eyes darkened at her teasing tone, his lips curving into a wicked smirk. “As you command, my duchess.”

Magnus’s hands moved with deliberate intent, his fingers deftly unfastening the last of her buttons. Charlotte’s gown slipped from her shoulders, the soft fabric pooling at her feet. She shivered under his heated gaze, his eyes raking over her with unhidden hunger.

“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice rough as his hand traced the curve of her waist, his touch igniting a trail of fire along her skin.

Charlotte tilted her head, her lips parting as she drank in the sight of him. His shirt hung open, revealing the muscular tones of his chest, and she reached up, her fingers skimming over him. “You’re staring,” she teased softly though her own breathing was uneven.

Magnus let out a low laugh, his hands slipping to the small of her back as he pulled her flush against him. “I’m admiring my wife,” he countered, his lips brushing against her ear. “Every inch of you, Charlotte.”

Her cheeks flushed, but any retort she might have had was stolen when he kissed her again, his mouth devouring hers with a passion that left her gasping.

His hands slid over her, exploring every curve as if memorizing her anew. She arched into him, her body pliant beneath his touch, her hands tugging at his shirt until it, too, joined her gown on the floor.

“Magnus,” she breathed, her voice trembling with anticipation as he lifted her effortlessly into his arms.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his tone laced with both command and desperation.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, her gaze locked with his. “Magnus,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his as she added, “I love you.”

After everything, it was this that excited him the most. It was this he demanded from her most often. “And I love you,” he replied. “And you’re mine.”

He carried her to the bed, his movements slow and deliberate as he laid her down amidst the soft sheets. Magnus followed, his body hovering over hers, his weight supported by his forearms as he studied her.

For a moment, the urgency eased, replaced by a quiet reverence that made her chest tighten.

“You’re everything,” he murmured, his hand brushing a stray curl from her cheek. “Everything I never knew I needed.”

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she reached up, cupping his face with her hands. “You have me,” she whispered. “All of me.”

The tenderness in his eyes melted into something darker, and he captured her lips in another kiss, this one slower but no less consuming. His hands roamed over her body, his touch leaving her trembling as he reignited the fire between them.

Their breaths mingled, their movements perfectly synchronized as the passion that had been simmering all evening erupted into something all-consuming. Magnus’ lips found the sensitive spot at her neck, drawing a soft moan from her as her hands fisted in the sheets.

As he entered her, she gasped. Though the sensation was now familiar, comfortable, it still sent her body reeling, her mind spiraling. It was too much, and yet she never wanted it to end.

Their love-making that day was quick, urgent, needful, but it was perfect too, just what they both needed. Their rhythm was quick, both of them riding on their passion until the release hit them simultaneously.

Magnus shifted, his hands bracing on either side of her as he gazed down at her. His chest heaved, his breath mingling with hers in the intimacy of the moment.

The heat of their passion ebbed into a warm glow, leaving Charlotte wrapped in a sense of completeness that she had only ever known with Magnus.

His eyes, darkened with emotion, locked onto hers as he fell beside her, kissing her bare shoulder.

“You undo me,” he murmured, his voice rough yet filled with awe. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I will spend the rest of my life proving that I do.”

Charlotte smiled and cupped his cheek in her hand. He still thought he had so much to prove, to apologize for, but he really didn’t. Everything was perfect now.

“You don’t need to prove anything, Magnus.”

They lay tangled together, their breaths slowing, the soft glow of the fire casting flickering light and heat across their entwined forms. Magnus pulled the blanket over them, shielding her from the cool air as he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his tone a mix of possessiveness and devotion. “And I’ll never let you forget it.”

Charlotte smiled, her heart full as she snuggled closer to him.

“Good,” she whispered. “Because I never want to.”

The End?