One Wicked Wish by Anna Campbell

Epilogue

Three days later

Halston shouldered his way into his apartments at Prestwick Place. In his arms, his bride of twelve hours clung to him with pleasing eagerness.

After lingering to kiss Stella, he set her on her feet. He was pleased to see that his instructions had been carried out to the letter. Every flat surface supported a vase of flowers, with lilies predominating, and a bottle of champagne cooled on the sideboard.

She glanced around in wonder. “It’s just like the first time.”

He smiled, glad she remembered. “The third happiest day of my life.”

She shot him an unimpressed look. “Tact should put it further up the list, even if you’re not being altogether honest.”

He laughed, in part because he was just so bloody topsy-turvy with elation. “Today is the second happiest day of my life.”

“Better.”

“And the happiest day of my life was the day you told me you love me.” He watched her face soften into one of her adoring smiles, and he caught her around the waist as he stepped closer.

“I love it when you say such sentimental things.”

His smile broadened. “That’s good, because I’ll warrant that there’s a lifetime of them ahead.”

More kisses and feverish caresses and sighs of pleasure, before her thick hair tumbled around her face. He caught her head in his hands and surveyed her, hardly able to believe that she was his at last. “Did I tell you that you were a vision today?”

After that rain of kisses, she looked dazzled. “You may tell me again.”

Her gown came from Madame Lisette, Lady Lumsden’s London modiste. The rich purple silk was the perfect complement to Stella’s leonine beauty.

Lady Lumsden had proven a great support through these hectic days since Stella had accepted his proposal. Halston wanted to get married the day after he stole Stella away from Deerforth’s house, until Lady Lumsden had protested that his bride couldn’t walk up the aisle, wearing one of Imogen’s castoffs. Thanks to Deerforth’s spite, Stella didn’t own anything else either, not even a hairbrush.

To Halston’s surprise, while Lady Lumsden had offered to pay for everything, the savior of the hour ended up being Eliot Ridley, Viscount Colville. Imogen got word to him about the stormy scene that resulted in Stella’s banishment from the family. He immediately offered to buy Stella’s new wardrobe, including her wedding dress, and had supplied her with a generous dowry as well. Despite Halston telling him that he’d take Stella in her petticoat and still consider himself the luckiest man in England.

This morning, Eliot had walked up the aisle with Stella, so she’d even had a member of her family at her wedding. Halston was sorry Imogen couldn’t be there, but as the scandal had spread, Deerforth had packed her off back to Gloucestershire. It seemed that he’d boasted a little too often and a little too loudly that his daughter would be the next Countess of Halston.

Halston had never had much to do with Viscount Colville. Eliot had always seemed too much the proper gentleman to associate with a dissolute libertine like him. Now he looked forward to establishing a friendship with his cousin by marriage.

With reluctance, Gray released Stella. “You should feel right at home.”

The humor he loved lit her caramel eyes. “At least today I came through the door and not via the mistresses’ corridor.”

He laughed. “We’ll have to call it something else, now that you’re my wife.”

“The rathole?”

He laughed again. Stella had told him about Imogen’s horror at the idea of Prestwick Place being infested by vermin. “The path to love?”

“Oh, Gray,” she said and melted into his arms again. By the time he came back to earth, his coat and neckcloth lay crumpled on the floor and the back of that fiendishly becoming gown gaped open.

“Would you like some champagne? Or perhaps you’re hungry?”

“After that good dinner on the road? How could I be?”

The wedding had taken place this morning in the church where the Lumsdens worshipped in Mayfair. Which also happened to be the congregation that Stella had joined in London.

The vicar had been cooperative about arranging a quick ceremony. A small number of guests attended. The Lumsdens and their children. Eliot. A couple of Halston’s closest friends and their wives.

After the wedding, Lady Lumsden had hosted a gathering at her house. For Stella and Halston, that location had a special and very private significance. After all, it was where they’d met.

Over the last few days, while Stella was occupied with seamstresses and shopping, Halston had put some thought into where to take her for their wedding night. Maddox House was a possibility, as was a hotel, or perhaps somewhere beside the sea. In the end, the most obvious choice was Prestwick Place, where they’d found such joy and where they’d fallen in love with each other.

So they’d traveled down to Buckinghamshire in a much more luxurious closed carriage than that ramshackle horror where he first kissed her.

“Are you tired?”

More wry amusement. “Gray, it’s more than a fortnight since we shared a bed. I don’t want wine. I don’t want food. I don’t want to discuss the weather. I just want you.”

It was his turn to stare at her, lost in enchantment. “Stella, I love you.”

“And I love you. Very much. Let’s do something about it.”

She didn’t need to ask him twice. With rough hands, he hauled his shirt over his head. Then he sat and ripped off his shoes, so he could remove his trousers. Only when he was naked did he realize that his bride hadn’t shifted from the middle of the room.

“What the devil game are you playing, my love?”

With a delicious gurgle of laughter, she made a helpless gesture. “I’m congratulating myself on what a fine figure of a man I married.” She strolled around him, studying him with a concentration that made Halston’s skin tighten with a heady mixture of arousal and self-consciousness. “I wonder if I can arrange for Canova to carve a statue of you for the great hall.”

“Naked?”

“That’s when you appear at your best.”

He gulped to moisten a dry throat. His growing excitement was clear for Stella to see. “It might turn our visitors off their afternoon tea.”

She trailed her hand down his spine to squeeze his buttocks. “It might incite the ladies of the neighborhood to kidnap you.”

The bold caress was too much for his fragile restraint. Because she wasn’t alone in finding these past weeks excruciating. His love wasn’t based on physical desire alone, but carnal pleasure was an important part of it.

“I’d fight free and come back to you, my darling,” he said in a hoarse voice.

She released an excited gasp, as Halston swung her high into his arms. He carried her across to the huge bed, where he’d discovered what magic he and Stella could conjure together.

After he set her against the covers, he descended to kiss every part of her that he could reach. He shoved aside her dress, nipped at the top of her breasts, scraped his teeth over the sensitive nerves of her neck, until she was panting and digging her fingers into his shoulders.

He shoved up her skirts and petticoats and ripped at the frail cambric drawers beneath. When his hand cupped her mound, they both sighed in relief. He could smell her excitement and when he stroked her between the legs, he discovered slick heat.

Stella kissed him hard and pulled away to meet his eyes. Hers had deepened to the color of peaty whisky.

“Don’t wait.” Her voice rasped with need. “I want you now.”

“My beloved wife…” he sighed, as he slid forward to join his body to hers.

She gave a piercing cry and spasmed into immediate climax. He gripped her hips and angled her so he penetrated further. Like Stella, he was too desperate to make this a leisurely loving.

They’d have a chance to linger and tease later. Hell, they had a lifetime ahead to explore the outer boundaries of bliss. Right now, Halston just needed this most profound and irresistible expression of his commitment to his wife.

He thrust once, twice. Then while she was still in the throes of ecstasy, he lost himself on a long groan. For the first time, his seed flooded Stella’s womb.

As the shudders receded, he slumped exhausted against her. Halston came back from that incandescent pleasure to find her touching his back. Each glide of her hands claimed him as hers.

He didn’t mind. He was hers. He was hers until the day he died.

“Am I squashing you?” he forced out of a throat constricted with overwhelming love.

When he and Stella came together, it was never just a matter of fleshly satisfaction. He should have known that he was in hot water from their first time together. But this furious, intimate, explosive union just now had been so soaked in poignant emotion, it surpassed even those earlier rapturous encounters.

Stella was his wife, his countess. She’d bear his children. They’d grow old together. What they’d just done contained a profundity that he’d never experienced before.

Her hands continued to drift across his skin. “No, I like it.”

Halston lay still a little longer, then rolled to the side, rising on one elbow to survey his bride. “For pity’s sake, I was in such a hurry that I didn’t even undress you.”

She smiled up at him. “You can do that next time.” Suddenly she stretched out on the mattress and laughed up at the ceiling. Her voice rang with such happiness that he couldn’t help smiling. “In fact, I’m the Countess of Halston, and I order you to undress me. No dillydallying about it, my good man.”

He laughed, too. How he loved her spirit. Hell, how he just loved her.

“That would be my great pleasure, my lady.” Hope for a glorious future with his precious wife flooded Halston’s heart, as he reached to undo the last fastenings on her splendid wedding dress.

***

I hope you’ve enjoyed One Wicked Wish, the first book in my A Scandal in Mayfair series. Continue reading for some information about the next book in the series, Two Secret Sins, which is on sale 31st August, 2021, and a sneak peek at the cover for Three Times Tempted, Imogen’s story which will be out towards the end of 2021.