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Three Years Later
The soft glow of candlelight flickered across the grand ballroom, casting a warm, golden hue on the polished marble floors. Lydia, Duchess of Somerfield, stood at the top of the sweeping staircase, her gaze drifting over the scene below. The room was alive with the gentle hum of conversation, the rustle of silk gowns, and the occasional trill of laughter as guests began to arrive, their faces obscured by elaborate masks. Tonight, the air was thick with anticipation, the thrill of secrecy that only a masquerade could inspire.
Lydia’s heart swelled with a mix of pride and nostalgia. Though, she could not deny that the allure of the evening had her on edge in the best possible way. Even through the planning process she had not been able to stop herself from drifting into her memories and the desire to recreate that night all of those years ago. Nearly three years had passed since she and Weston had stood together at the altar, their vows sealing a union that had begun under the most unlikely of circumstances. And now, there they were, hosting their first annual masquerade ball, a tribute to the night that had changed everything. The villa on the Thames, with its stunning views, was the perfect setting. Magical.
The velvet mask she wore was adorned with intricate gold filigree, its design a perfect complement to the deep emerald gown that clung to her figure. The gown, made of the finest silk, shimmered with every movement, its color reminiscent of the rolling hills of Hillsborough, where she and Weston spent most of their time. But tonight, they were in London, embracing the city life that Weston had longed for her to share with him. It had taken time, and patience on his part, but Lydia had finally agreed to split their year between the estate and the capital, and she had to admit, there was a certain charm to the bustling energy of London.
As she descended the staircase, her hand lightly trailing along the banister, Lydia could not help but think back to the night that had started it all. The memory was consuming her. Ever present. The masquerade where she had first encountered Weston—though, at the time, neither of them had known who the other truly was. The memory brought a smile to her lips. It had been a night of stolen glances, a single dance, and a kiss that had lingered in her thoughts for years. A night that had set her on a path she never could have imagined.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Lydia felt a familiar presence at her side. Weston seemed to materialize out of thin air, his hand warm as it settled on the small of her back. She turned to look up at him, her smile widening at the sight of him. He was as handsome as ever, his broad shoulders and tall frame a reassuring presence amid the swirling crowd. His mask, a simple black piece with silver accents, did little to hide the mischievous glint in his gray eyes.
“Are you ready for our guests, my love?” he asked, his voice a low murmur that only she could hear.
Lydia nodded, her heart fluttering with a mixture of excitement and contentment. “I believe I am. And you?”
He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her temple, his lips lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “With you by my side, Lydia, I am ready for anything.”
As the first strains of the orchestra began to play, signaling the official start of the evening, Lydia allowed herself to relax into the moment. Tonight was a celebration, not just of their past, but of the future they were building together. Their son had thrown a fit before bedtime earlier that evening, pleading to join the celebration, but as he was still only two years old, he had been easy enough to turn away. He had been put to bed about the same time as Kitty’s own two children. Margaret, however, was nearly old enough to enter society and was not one to be so easily dissuaded from attendance. She had needed to be convinced. It was still impossible to believe, at times, that their family had grown in the way that it had.
As the night unfolded, the masquerade blossomed into a spectacle far grander than the one that had initially entwined their fates. The ballroom glittered, from the grand chandeliers dripping with crystals to the lush floral arrangements adorning every surface. The guests, draped in rich fabrics and adorned with ornate masks, moved in a swirl of color and light, their laughter and conversation creating a symphony that filled the air. The music, a lively waltz, carried the dancers across the floor with practiced elegance, their steps perfectly in time with the rhythm of the night. Though all of it paled in comparison to the excited sparks of desire that Weston’s every glance in her direction seemed to bring.
Lydia and Weston had greeted their guests with warmth and grace, exchanging pleasantries and polite conversation as they made their way through the throng of revelers. But now, as the evening wore on, they found themselves drawn to one another, seeking a moment of quiet amid the celebration. Hand in hand, they slipped away from the main ballroom, finding refuge in a secluded alcove just off the dance floor. The room was quieter here, the music a soft murmur in the background, the flickering candlelight casting a soft glow over their faces.
Weston drew Lydia into his arms, his hand resting gently on her waist as they swayed together, a slow, private dance meant only for them. Lydia leaned into him, resting her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. For a moment, they simply existed together, content in the warmth of each other’s embrace.
“It is hard to believe, is it not?” Weston murmured, his voice breaking the comfortable silence between them. “How far we have come. How much we have been through to get here.”
Lydia lifted her head to look up at him, her eyes soft with the memories of their shared journey. “It feels like a lifetime ago that we were just two strangers at a masquerade. So much has changed since then… and yet, it all led us here.”
“I will forever be grateful that Cassian will spend the rest of his life behind bars. Though, I cannot deny that I am grateful for him and all of that nonsense bringing us together.” He nodded, his gaze steady as it held hers. “We have both sacrificed a great deal. You, especially. I often wonder if I am worth all that you have endured.”
The cheeky smile on his face sent desire pooling between her thighs.
A faint smile tugged at Lydia’s lips, though her eyes shone with a trace of sorrow. “You are, Weston. You have given me so much more than I ever imagined I could have. But it does not mean I don’t still grieve for what was lost.”
Weston’s hand tightened slightly on her waist, a silent offer of comfort. “Jacob was a good man,” he said quietly. “I know how much he meant to you. And to Margaret and Juliet.”
Lydia nodded, her throat tightening with emotion. “He was. He saved us in so many ways. And I shall always be grateful to him for that. But he was never my great love. He was my friend, and I miss him dearly, but what we have… it is different.”
Her words hung between them, a truth that had taken time to fully realize. The love she had for Weston was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. It was passionate, intense, and consuming in a way that both terrified and exhilarated her. But it was also healing, a balm to the wounds she had carried for so long.
“I think he would be happy for you,” Weston said softly. “For us. He would want you to find joy and love again. And I hope… I hope I can continue to give that to you.”
Lydia’s smile widened, her heart swelling with affection for the man who had become her everything. “You already have, Weston. You have given me a second chance at happiness, at love. And for that, I will always be grateful.”
They continued to sway together, lost in their own world as the masquerade carried on around them. The weight of the past still lingered, but it no longer overshadowed the present. Instead, it had shaped them, brought them closer, and made them stronger. Lydia knew she would always carry a part of Jacob with her, just as she would always honor his memory by raising his daughters with love and care. But the life she had now, with Weston by her side, was more than she ever dared to dream of.
“Shall we rejoin our guests?” Weston asked after a moment, his tone lightening as he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead.
Lydia tilted her head back, meeting his gaze with a playful glint in her eyes. “I suppose we must. It would not do for the hosts to disappear for too long.”
He chuckled, the sound warm and rich, as he released her from his embrace. “Very well, my love. But I do expect the next dance with you.”
“Only if you can keep up,” she teased, slipping her hand into his as they began to make their way back to the ballroom.
***
As the final notes of the waltz echoed through the ballroom, signaling the end of the evening’s festivities, Lydia and Weston exchanged a knowing glance. The masquerade had been a resounding success, their guests thoroughly entertained, but now, as the night drew to a close, both were eager for a moment of solitude away from the prying eyes and endless conversations.
Weston leaned close, his voice a low murmur in her ear. “Shall we steal away, my love? I believe the gardens are calling.”
Lydia’s heart skipped at the suggestion, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “I thought you would never ask.”
With the ease of long practice, they gracefully excused themselves from the remaining guests, their departure barely noticed amid the lingering revelry. Weston kept her hand firmly in his as they navigated through the grand villa, slipping past the ballroom and down a quiet corridor that led to the gardens.
Once outside, the cool night air enveloped them, a welcome contrast to the warmth and vibrancy of the ballroom. The garden stretched out before them, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight. Tall hedges formed a labyrinth of paths, with blooming flowers and carefully trimmed bushes adding to the sense of seclusion. The scent of roses and jasmine lingered in the air, mingling with the distant sound of the river.
Weston led Lydia down a winding path, his steps unhurried. They passed through an archway adorned with ivy, emerging into a secluded clearing where a stone bench sat beneath an ancient oak tree. The branches of the tree spread out like a protective canopy, the leaves rustling gently in the breeze.
“Here we are,” Weston said softly, turning to face her. His eyes gleamed with affection, a rare tenderness that he reserved for moments like this. “Privacy.”
Lydia felt a warmth spread through her chest as she took in the sight of him, the man who had come to mean so much to her. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, her voice filled with quiet awe.
“It is nothing compared to you,” he replied, his tone sincere.
They stood there for a moment, simply gazing at one another, the tension between them tightening like a band about to snap. The night seemed to wrap around them, cocooning them in its stillness. Lydia stepped closer to him, her hands resting on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath.
Lydia closed her eyes as he leaned down to kiss her, the touch of his lips against hers sending a shiver down her spine. The kiss was slow and unhurried, a gentle exploration that spoke of the deep bond they shared. It should have always been like this. She should have always been allowed to touch him, to kiss him. Slowly, Weston guided the pair of them over to the nearest bench, pulling her down on top of him so that her legs were on either side of his body. His hands at the small of her back encouraged her closer. Her own exploration moved from his chest, up to the mask that he wore. It felt so simple now, pulling the ornate thing off of his face. All of those years ago, if only she had just done that, she would have known who to look for even if she did not know his true name. She had been so desperate to have something of her own, to have a night that she could just be herself that the secrets had felt so necessary.
But it had swiftly come to bite her in the rear afterward.
She pushed the mask up over his brow and pulled it off of him entirely. She turned the thing over in her hand, the ribbons falling over her wrist as she shook her head. So simple.
Weston undid the bow keeping her own in place, even though her updo was entwined around the laces and he had to pull them free, though he did not seem to have the same nostalgia about it as she did. He cupped her chin in his hand, pulling her back to him before he kissed her with every single part of him. Need coiled in her belly, warming her against the night chill. It would have to be fast, and quiet—she knew that. But she could not deny the thrill that she felt for replacing that memory with this one.
Lydia rolled her hips down into her husband’s, kissing along his jaw and over to his ear. It was such a thrill each and every time, knowing that she knew him so well—enough to know the places that made him burn just as hotly as she did. Her teeth closed over the shell of his ear, licking softly before she spoke. “You shall have to find a way to keep me quiet, will you not?”
She pulled back just in time to see Weston’s eyes darken with arousal. “This is our home, after all, you are overestimating how much I care for the opinion of those inside of my own home.”
Lydia grinned wickedly, cupping her hands around the back of his neck and throwing her head back, moaning wantonly as she did so often in the throes of her pleasure.
The effect was immediate. Weston pulled her upright and cupped a hand over the lower half of her face. She could tell that this was a point in her favor. Called him out for his bluff so very quickly. She was not remorseful about it at all.
Weston seemed to take the hint, his hand reaching up for the neckline of her dress and pulling, her capped sleeve tugging on her shoulder for just a moment before the dress slid down her arm, baring her breast to the cold night air. She was not afforded a moment to fully register the sensation before Weston’s mouth covered the pebbled peak. Teeth grazed softly against the skin, and she did not have to fake the sounds of pleasure that he brought out of her now. Slowly, he flicked over the surface of her nipple, the effects of which pooled heat between her thighs.
Needy and impatient, Lydia grabbed the wrist of his free hand and pulled his hand between her legs, grinding against his fingers the moment that they were within reach. Weston chuckled into her skin, but slipped two fingers inside of her, pulsating slowly. Weston rotated his hand at the wrist, the way she liked, working her body higher as his thumb rubbed small circles into her core.
If they had done this all of those years ago, then she would not have been able to have this. Weston had pleased her from day one, but now he knew the inner workings of her pleasure like his own. He coaxed her to finish far too easily. Drove her damned near to madness more often than not. Not that she would complain per se. Someday, she was beyond confident that she was going to be able to do the same to him.
“I need you, please.” She whispered into the cup of his palm over her face. She did not stop moving against his hand, even when he dropped the second one to his trousers, freeing the hard length of him up into her warmth. She did not wish to wait; they did not have long.
Something that Weston seemed to feel as well as he thrust up into her, letting her set the pace. He kept his thumb working in circles even as his lips found her breast again. Lydia bit down on her bottom lip, wantonly circling her hips as her head fell back. She clung to his neck and shoulders, keeping herself upright and anchored as she bit down harder to try to keep from making too much noise.
This was the part that she was never going to get used to—the pleasure. She felt so full and complete when he was inside her. It had not dulled for a day in all of their years of marriage. She did not think that she was ever going to get her fill of him.
Weston’s teeth bit into her soft breast, keeping from making noise himself as his free hand gripped her hip, encouraging her hips to move just a little bit faster. She was able to, with his help. The concrete of the bench that they sat in offered her no favors to her knees as she tried to get better leverage. Her need drove her harder, and faster. Her fingers dug into his skin as she grew closer. The fluid movements of her hips became more erratic and slightly less fluid the closer that she got. No talking. No teasing—only need.
Her thighs burned and her core ached, but she could not stop moving—not for a second—as she made love to him, her breath stuttering in her chest as she toppled over her edge. She could not stop it. She did not wish to. Clenching around him until he had no choice but to follow after her. She could not even bring herself to care for the fact that when the pair of them did choose to go back inside that they were going to be a mess.
When the trembling stopped, and the warm afterglow of her climax started to dull, she kissed Weston on the tip of his nose. A soft, satisfied smile stretched her lips as she gazed deeply into his eyes.
They sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms, savoring the peace and tranquility of the moment. The sounds of the masquerade had faded into the background, leaving only the rustle of leaves and the gentle lapping of the river against the shore.
Lydia looked up at Weston, her eyes shimmering with emotion. “Promise me we will always find time for moments like this,” she said. “No matter what life throws at us.”
Weston smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I promise,” he whispered. “We will always find our way back to each other, no matter what.”
The night was theirs, a perfect ending to a perfect evening, and as they sat there in the quiet, Lydia knew that no matter what the future held, she would always have Weston by her side.
OFFER: A BRAND NEW SERIES AND 5 FREEBIES FOR YOU!
Grab my new series, "Lust and Love in High Society", and get 5 FREE novels as a gift! Have a look here!
Hello my dear readers. I hope you enjoyed the book and this Extended Epilogue! I will be waiting for your comments below. Thank you so much! 🙂
as always a lovely storyline with amazing characters such an enthralling and adictive plot. loved it
Thank you so much for your kind words and support, dear Babs! So glad you enjoyed the story!
Thank you so much, dear Babs!
A terrific read! I loved it!! The attraction that Lydia and Weston had for each other was incredible. They both had dreams about the other for nine years until fate brought them together again. Thank you for the great read.
Thank you so much for your kind words and support, dear Terry! So glad you enjoyed the story!
This is a great read! The connection that Lydia and Weston was evident from the first. I enjoyed how they got to know each other even while holding back from one another. There were a couple of points I was confused by at the neighboring soiree and when the poison was given by Cassius. Enjoyable read.
Thank you so much for your kind words and support, dear Shannon! So glad you enjoyed the story!