efore Emma could catch her breath, she found herself at Westonbirt, watching as over a hundred workmen and servants put

the finishing touches on what must have been the most hastily arranged wedding in decades. Caroline and Eugenia were in their element, and Emma had to admit that they had performed no less than a miracle. Caroline often remarked that she could have done better if she'd had a little more time, which made Emma laugh because the arrangements far exceeded anything she had ever dreamed of back in Boston.

After some good-natured bickering by Sophie and Belle over blue and peach, Emma finally declared that mint green would reign as the color of the day, which turned out to be a wise decision because both women looked perfectly marvelous in their gowns.

But it was the bride who would capture everyone's heart. At her final fitting for her wedding dress, Belle had gasped and said

that she had never seen Emma looking quite so beautiful. The gown was a slightly old-fashioned style, with the waist where it

was supposed to be rather than following the latest rage, which dictated that it be located right under the bust. Emma liked the new style and had many dresses cut that way, but she declared that it just wouldn't do for a wedding dress. Madame Lambert

had agreed instantly and had fashioned a sumptuous gown of ivory silk with a modest neckline that just barely grazed her shoulders, long tight-fitting sleeves, and layers of underskirts that made the dress billow out gracefully from Emma's waist.

Emma had decreed that the gown be kept relatively simple, and so no jewels or bows adorned it.

The result was breathtaking. The cut flattered Emma's small frame, emphasizing her small waist and the elegant line of her

throat. But it was the color of the silk that really did the trick. Emma had started out with her heart set on white, but Madame Lambert had refused and insisted on ivory. She was absolutely right; the new material set off Emma's complexion perfectly,

and she positively glowed.

Although it might just have been love.

Still, Emma decided, the dress helped.

Finally, the day of the wedding arrived, and Emma awoke with at least three dozen butterflies in her stomach. Then, as if

on cue, Belle bounded into her room and without any preamble asked, "Are you nervous?"

"Dreadfully."

"Good. You're supposed to be nervous, you know. Marriage is a very big step, after all. It's probably the biggest event in a woman's life. After being born, of course, and dying, I suppose, but—"

"That's enough!" Emma bit out.

Belle smiled devilishly.

"You fiend," Emma muttered, swatting her cousin with a pillow.

"I ordered up some morning chocolate," Belle said. "It should be here any minute. I didn't think you'd want to eat anything

more substantial this morning."

"No," Emma agreed softly, gazing out the window.

Belle took in her serious expression and immediately asked, "You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

Emma broke out of her reverie. "No, of course not. I love Alex, you know. I don't know if I ever told you, but I do."

"I knew that you did!"

"I only wish that my father could give me away. I do miss him. And now I'll be living so far away."

Belle patted Emma's hand consolingly. "I know. But you have us, after all. And Ashbourne's family adores you. And your

father will visit you. I know he will. But don't tell my father how much you're missing Uncle John. He's practically bursting

with pride at the thought of giving you away."

A knock on the door sounded, and Sophie entered the room, still in her dressing gown. "I intercepted the maid on the stairs

and had her go back to the kitchen for extra chocolate," she said. "I hope you don't mind. She should be up shortly."

"Of course not," Emma said with a smile. 'The more the merrier."

"I cannot believe the sheer amount of activity in this house," Sophie continued. "Have either of you been downstairs yet?"

Both Emma and Belle shook their heads.

"It's a madhouse. I was nearly run over by a footman. And the guests have already started to arrive!"

"You're joking!" Belle replied. "They must have gotten up at four in the morning to get here now."

"Well, Alex was positively beastly when Mama suggested that we invite everyone to spend the night. Only a very select

few were allowed to come last night, and he insisted that absolutely everyone vacate the premises by tonight."

Emma blushed. "Have you seen him yet?"

"No," Sophie said, taking a cup of chocolate from the maid who had silently entered the room. "But Dunford was up and

about. He said Alex is almost climbing the walls. I imagine he's rather anxious to have this entire wedding over and done with."

"Yes, well, he's not the only one," Emma murmured, wondering when her stomach was going to stop turning cartwheels.

* * *

The wedding was scheduled to start promptly at noon, and at eleven-thirty Emma peeked out the window at the spectacle

that was growing on Westonbirt's south lawn. "Good Lord," she gasped. "There must be two hundred people out there."

"Closer to four, I would guess," Belle said, joining her cousin at the window. "Mama would have liked a guest list of six

hundred, but—"

"But there wasn't enough time," Emma finished. "I know." Still gazing out at the lawn, she shook her head at the grandness

of the affair. Gaily striped tents dotted the lawn, shielding the swarms of guests from the early July sun. As Alex had promised, there were more bouquets of flowers than Emma could count.

"Oh my," Emma breathed. "I should never have allowed Aunt Caroline to let this get so big. I don't know half of those people."

"But they know you!" Sophie pointed out enthusiastically.

"Can you believe that you're going to be a duchess?" Belle asked.

"No, I really can't," Emma said weakly.

And then, before she knew it, it was noon and she was standing just outside the entrance to the tent, so nervous that she

could barely hear the strains of the string quartet.playing her favorite Mozart piece.

"Good luck," Sophie said just before she headed down the aisle. "Sister."

Belle followed Sophie a few moments later, but not before she gave Emma's hand a reassuring squeeze. "I love you, Emma Dunster."

"That's the last time anyone will ever say that to me," Emma whispered.

"Emma Ridgely sounds just fine to me," Henry said, taking her arm. "Especially when it has duchess of Ashbourne tacked

on to the end of it."

Emma smiled nervously.

"You'll do just fine," Henry said. And then he added softly, "I know that you'll be very happy."

Emma nodded, blinking back tears. "Thank you so much, Uncle Henry. For everything. I do love you, you know."

Henry touched her cheek. "I know," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "Shall we be on our way? I think your duke is

going to march up the aisle and drag you back to the altar if we don't get there soon."

Taking a deep breath, Emma took that first step into the aisle. And when she saw Alex waiting for her at the altar, all her fears and anxieties slowly began to melt away. With each step, the joy within her grew, and she didn't even notice the hundreds of people who had turned in their seats to watch the radiant bride process down the aisle.

Alex's breath caught in his throat the first moment she stepped into the tent. She looked so lovely, he didn't know how to

describe it. It was as if her beauty had accumulated inside of her and was shining out through every pore. Everything about

her seemed to glow, from the satin creaminess of her skin to her soft violet eyes to the fiery highlights of her hair, which

shone brightly even underneath her delicate veil.

Finally, Henry and Emma reached Alex, and Emma could not help but smile as her uncle placed her hand in that of her future husband. Looking up into Alex's green eyes, she found an undeniable warmth in his gaze, along with hunger, possessiveness,

and, yes, love. He might never have said the words, but Emma saw it clear as day in his eyes. He loved her.

He loved her, and suddenly her life seemed twice as bright as it had just moments earlier.

The rest of the ceremony passed so quickly that later Emma could remember only the barest snatches of it. Charlie standing so proudly as he held the rings on a small pillow, the warmth of Alex's hands as he slipped the ring on her finger, Dunford's and

Ned's cocky smiles as they watched Alex kiss her a little too passionately when the vicar finally pronounced them man and

wife, and then finally, the sight of Caroline's wet cheeks as the newly married couple breezed back up the aisle when the ceremony was over.

* * *

The party lasted for the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening. Emma found herself being congratulated by hundreds of people she didn't know and then by hundreds of people she did. Alex stuck by her side as much as possible, but even when they were forced to socialize separately, she felt his eyes on her, and she could barely contain the dual shivers of love and desire that floated through her.

Finally after hours of dancing and dozens of toasts, Alex sidled up next to Emma and whispered in her ear, "I know it's still early, but could we please get out of here? I want you all to myself."

"Oh, I thought you'd never ask," Emma sighed, her smile growing wider by the second.

The pair waved farewell to the crowd and then stopped by Eugenia's side before they left. "I want everyone gone tonight," Alex said firmly. "I don't care if they don't get home until dawn. They usually don't anyway."

"May I assume that your stinginess does not extend to members of your immediate family?" Eugenia inquired with an extremely amused expression.

"Of course, but I want the lot of you out of here tomorrow morning." Alex dropped a kiss onto his mother's cheek. "I'd like a

bit of privacy with my new wife, if none of you mind."

"Rest assured, we'll all be gone by noontime," Eugenia replied. "I assume that you don't plan to emerge from the bridal chamber before then?"

Emma blushed to the roots of her hair.

"Absolutely not," Alex said shamelessly. "Although I would appreciate it if you could arrange to have a meal sent up to us tomorrow."

"Fear not, my dear son, I've taken care of everything." Eugenia's eyes misted over as she touched his cheek. "I'm very happy

for you today."

Alex and Emma smiled their good-byes to Eugenia and took off down the long hallway that led to the master suite. Emma nearly had to run to keep up with Alex's long strides until finally, as he propelled her up the curving staircase, she had to stop and catch her breath. "Please," she begged, laughing all the while. "Wait just a moment."

Alex halted in his tracks and cupped her cheeks in his hands. His eyes were filled with a curious mix of total intensity and humor. "I can't wait," he said simply.

Emma let out a little yelp as Alex scooped her up into his arms and carried her the rest of the way to their room. "Alone at last," he said dramatically, kicking the door shut so that he wouldn't have to put her down. "Do you mind if I kiss you?"

"No."

"Oh, good." And by the time he was through, Emma was breathless and warm.

"Are you nervous?" Alex asked.

"No. I was this morning, but I'm not now."

Alex's eyes glowed as he took in the implications of that statement. Still, he didn't want to rush her. They had all night—all

week, actually. He took her hand and led her further into the chamber. 'This is your new room," he said, waving his hand

at their surroundings.

Emma looked around. The decor was quite masculine.

"You can redecorate if you want," Alex said. "Nothing too pink, I hope."

Emma stifled a grin. "I think we can come up with something suitable."

Alex caught her hand in his. "There is an adjoining room which is officially the duchess's chamber, but I'd rather you spend

more of your time in here."

"Oh really?" Emma teased.

"We could turn it into a sitting room for you with all of the feminine fripperies you want," Alex said earnestly. "But I don't think there'll be any need for the bed that is in there. I'm thinking of having it moved to Mrs. Goode's quarters. She has been with us

for many years, and I think it would be quite a treat for her. Much more comfortable than what she has now."

"I think that would be a brilliant idea," Emma said softly, stepping closer to him.

"Oh, Emma, I'm so glad that you're finally mine."

"And I am glad that you are mine."

Alex laughed out loud. "Come a little closer so that we can finally get that gorgeous dress off of you, your grace."

"My name is Emma." she replied in a stern voice. "I don't want to hear you calling me 'your grace.'"

"You are priceless, your grace." Alex reached his arms around her and started to undo the tiny buttons that marched down the back of her wedding gown. He moved with agonizing slowness, sending hot desire down Emma's spine with each touch.

A small moan tore from Emma's lips as she placed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. The entire room seemed to

be spinning in a sensual haze, and it was all she could do to remain standing.

Alex's hands stilled about halfway down her back. "Mmm, I think it's time we let down your hair." With deft fingers, he pulled

out the pins that had been used to pile her thick tresses atop her head. "Although I do like these little wispy things that hang

down when you do your hair this way." A few moments later the entire mass came tumbling down, and Alex lifted a few of

the soft locks to his face, kissing them first and then breathing in the heady scent.

"I adore your hair," he murmured, running his fingers through it. "Have I ever told you that I want a little girl with hair this

exact color?"

Wordlessly, Emma shook her head. They had never discussed children. She had assumed he wanted an heir—all men did—

but she had never dreamed that he would want a little girl just like her. "I myself had been thinking about a little boy with

black hair and green eyes," she said hesitatingly.

Alex's hands moved back to the buttons on her back. "Well, we'll just have to keep on working on it until we both get our wish, won't we?" This time Alex undid her buttons with great speed, and within seconds the dress fell to the floor, leaving Emma clad only in her thin, silky chemise.

He started to push the sheer garment from her shoulders, but Emma stopped him. "Shh. It's my turn now." She reached for his cravat and slowly pulled apart its intricate folds. And when she was done she moved to his crisp, white shirt, savoring each inch

of flesh that was revealed as she undid each button. Alex could only withstand that sweet torture for a few moments, and with a groan, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the huge four-poster bed.

"Oh, God, you're so beautiful," he said reverently, touching the side of her cheek. "So beautiful."

Emma abandoned herself to the passion of the moment, wrapping her arms eagerly around Alex as he came to join her on the

bed. Even as he was ridding himself of his clothing, he couldn't stop touching her, and the heat of his hands combined with the sensual rubbing of silk against skin was nearly enough to send her over the edge. She moaned his name over and over, barely aware that she was using her voice.

"Shhh, sweetheart, I'm here," he murmured.

And he was, Emma assured herself. Every glorious naked inch of him was pressed up against her. But her chemise still lay

in the way, and Emma tore at the offending garment, wanting nothing between her and her husband.

"Shhh," he said again, stilling her hands. "I've grown rather fond of this thing." Placing his hands on her silk-covered hips, he started to push the chemise up along her body, leaving twin trails of flre along her sides. As it slid upward to reveal her breasts, Alex let out a murmur of appreciation and slowly leaned down to kiss each dusky nipple. Emma squirmed with pleasure,

grasping at the back of his head to keep him close to her. "Mmm, I remembered that you liked that," Alex chuckled, marveling

at her wondrously responsive nature.

"Alex, get this thing off of me," she demanded hotly.

"Oh, all right," he teased, finally pulling the chemise over her head and letting it drift down to the floor beside the bed.

Emma glanced up at him. He still seemed so self-composed. Didn't he feel as crazy with passion as she did? With a devilish

grin she leaned down and began to kiss his flat nipple the same way he had done to her. His reaction was instantaneous and

more than Emma had hoped for. Bucking off the bed, he cried out, "Oh my God, Emma, where did you learn that?"

Emma moved back up to his mouth. "From you. Do you want to teach me anything else?"

"Maybe next week," Alex growled. "I don't think I could take much more of this tonight."

She laughed with satisfaction as Alex leaned down to kiss her ardently. At that moment all of their joking and teasing ceased,

and all that remained were two hungry bodies, straining for each other in desire and passion.

Emma couldn't seem to touch enough of his skin. Her hands floated along his firmly muscled thighs up to his chest and over his shoulders. And each touch inflamed Alex's passion until he could take no more. His hand stole down the length of her body to settle over the soft curls that protected her womanhood. Emma gasped with need, clutching at him, trying to draw him closer. Slowly Alex parted the folds of her most private skin and slipped a finger inside. She was more than ready for him.

"You're so wet," he said in a ragged voice. "So wet and so hot and so ready for me."

"Please Alex," Emma begged.

Alex positioned himself over her, sliding just the tip of his manhood inside. It was torture not to plunge the full length of himself

into her sweet warmth, but he knew that her body was still unused to his, and he wanted to give her time to adjust to his size.

But Emma would have none of that. "Oh, Alex, please. I need more," she moaned, grasping at his hips, trying to draw him closer.

He could not resist her pleading, and with a rough cry he drove forward, fully sheathing himself within her. His breathing

laborious, he strove to maintain an even rhythm as he pulsed forward and back, stroking her intimately.

Emma spiralled to heaven. She fought against release, wanting to prolong the perfection of the moment, but still she felt herself slipping toward that shattering sense of freedom that only Alex could give her. She knew her battle was lost when he slipped his hand between their bodies and touched her intimately. And then, just moments before she knew she must explode, a cry was

torn from her throat.

"Oh, God, Alex, I love you so much!"

He froze. "What did you say?" he asked hoarsely.

Emma felt as if she were teetering on the edge of a steep precipice. She needed him to keep moving. "Please Alex. Please

don't leave me hanging here."

"What did you say?" he repeated, every muscle taut.

Violet eyes met green in a soul-baring caress. "I love you."

Alex held her gaze for another moment before plunging forward again, this time with a new sense of urgency. The last thrust

was all that Emma needed, and she felt herself lose her hold on reality. Bucking off the bed with the strength of her release,

she screamed his name as her world erupted into a passionate prism of light. The sweet clenching of Emma's muscles around

him shattered Alex's last vestiges of restraint, and he let out a harsh cry of triumph as he exploded within her.

Many minutes later, when they were lying entwined in the delicious haze of spent passion, Alex sighed deeply, burying his

face in the soft curve of Emma's neck. "I was afraid I would never hear those words," he said quietly.

Emma sank her fingers in his thick, dark hair and tousled it. "I am still afraid I might never hear them."

Alex drew back and cupped her face in his hands. "I love you, Emma Elizabeth Dunster Ridgely," he said solemnly. "I love you with all of my heart and all of my soul. I love you like I never dreamed it was possible to love a woman. I love you like—"

"Stop!" Emma cried out, her eyes brimming with tears.

''Why, darling?"

"I'm too happy," she said in a choked voice.

"You can never be too happy. In fact, I intend to devote the rest of my life to ensuring that each day you live is happier than

the one before it."

"I don't think that will be very difficult as long as you remain by my side."

Alex smiled. "As if I would ever leave."

"Good!" Emma said saucily.

"As if you would let me," he teased. "My fierce American duchess. You'd probably come after me with a shotgun."

Emma sat up and swatted him with a pillow. "Beast!" Laughing merrily, she let him wrestle her back down to the bed.

"Besides, I don't even know how to use a shotgun," she said, catching her breath.

"What? My tree-climbing, fishing rod-toting duchess can't fire a shotgun? I'm disappointed."

"Well, I am better than average with a pistol."

Alex leaned down to kiss her. 'That's more like it."

"Alex?"

"Hmm?"

"We don't have to go back to town anytime soon, do we?"

"No, I don't think so. Why do you ask?"

"I think I'm developing a fondness for Weston-birt."

Alex pouted. "For Westonbirt or for me?"

"For you, you big baby. But I never get to see you in London. Everyone puts such demands on your time. Do you think we

could just stay here for a while?"

Alex cuddled his wife against his chest, treasuring the newfound love that shone in his heart. "I think that could be arranged."