A Scarred Duke Takes a Bride – Extended Epilogue


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Three years had swept by since the tumultuous events that had sealed Alexander and Emmaline’s love amidst chaos and revelation. The once blackened ruins of the Westmarch estate now thrummed with the laughter and play of children, its grounds transformed into a sprawling sanctuary of joy and learning. The orphanage, a majestic rebirth from the ashes of the old manor, stood as a testament to the couple’s dedication not just to each other but to a cause greater than themselves.

On a bright morning in early June, Emmaline strolled through the verdant gardens of the orphanage, her youngest, a spirited two-year-old named Charlotte, clutching her hand with the fierce independence only a toddler could muster. Her belly, round with the promise of new life, did little to deter her steps, though she moved with the careful grace of a woman well accustomed to motherhood.

“Slowly, my darling,” Emmaline cautioned as Charlotte tugged eagerly towards the rose bushes blooming with the vibrancy of the season. “Remember what Mama said about the thorns.”

Charlotte’s pout was quick to surface but vanished at the sight of her father approaching. Alexander, his presence commanding as ever, wore a softer edge these days, the scars of his past now mere whispers on his skin and spirit. His smile widened as he scooped Charlotte into his arms, spinning her around in a gentle whirl that elicited delighted squeals.

“Have you been terrorizing the roses again, my little sprite?” he teased, pressing a kiss to her rosy cheek.

“Mama saved me!” Charlotte proclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck.

Emmaline’s laughter mingled with the morning breeze. “Indeed, I did. But I suspect she was more interested in the butterflies, weren’t you, love?”

Alexander set Charlotte down, taking Emmaline’s hand and noting the flush of her cheeks with an affectionate frown. “You should rest, Emmy. Dr. Hammond was quite specific about you taking things slowly this time around.”

Her eyes, bright with the fires of her youth and the wisdom gained through trials, met his with a tender defiance. “I am quite well, Alex. Besides, today is special.” Her gaze drifted to the throng of children gathered around the oak tree, their laughter a balm to any weary heart.

“Indeed, it is,” he agreed, squeezing her hand. “Shall we?”

Together, they wandered towards the oak, under which a makeshift stage had been set. Today was not merely a celebration of the coming summer but also an anniversary of sorts—the orphanage’s third year of operation. The children, dressed in their finest, albeit slightly mismatched, attire, were buzzing with excitement for the play they had prepared, a tradition that had quickly taken root.

As they settled onto a bench, Alexander draped an arm around Emmaline’s shoulders, pulling her close. The warmth between them was a living thing, vibrant and unyielding. On stage, the children began their recitation, a lively adaptation of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Puck was played by a particularly mischievous boy named Samuel, whose impish grin reminded Alexander all too vividly of his own youthful escapades.

Watching the play, Emmaline’s hand rested on her belly, feeling the gentle stirrings of their unborn child. It was moments like these, surrounded by the laughter of children and the shared glances of love between herself and Alexander, that she felt a profound sense of peace.

“Thinking of the future?” Alexander murmured, his voice a low rumble.

“Always,” she replied, her smile deepening. “I was just imagining our little one joining them on stage one day. Perhaps as Puck.”

“God help us,” Alexander joked, his eyes alight with humor. “One imp is quite enough.”

Emmaline chuckled, her head tilting to rest against his shoulder. “I think we could handle it. After all, we’ve managed so far, haven’t we?”

“Indeed, we have,” he said, his gaze sweeping over the orphanage grounds, over the children they had come to love as their own. “We’ve built something extraordinary, Emmaline. Not just here, but between us.”

Her heart swelled with the weight and warmth of his words. “With you, I believe I could build anything, endure anything.”

“And you have,” he whispered, his lips brushing her temple. “You’ve given me a home, a family, and a future. What more could I ask for?”

“Just your love,” she whispered back, knowing it was both the simplest and grandest request of all.

Alexander’s response was a kiss, tender and promising, sealed beneath the shade of the oak tree while the applause of tiny hands rose around them. The play ended, but for Alexander and Emmaline, the story they were writing together had only just begun, each day a new page in a tale of enduring love and new beginnings.

The day continued with vibrant festivities that felt stitched from the very fabric of joy. After the children’s delightful rendition of the play, the grounds of the orphanage transformed into a carnival of sorts. Stalls had been erected overnight, offering everything from homemade lemon cakes to intricately woven bracelets, all crafted by the children under the watchful eyes of their caretakers.

Emmaline, her energy renewed by Alexander’s ever-supportive presence, wandered among the stalls, her hand resting occasionally on her swollen belly. Alexander, for his part, was every bit the doting husband and father, ensuring she moved neither too quickly nor too much, his attentiveness a silent vow repeated in every tender look and touch.

“Look, Mama! Papa! I made this!” Charlotte exclaimed, tugging them toward a table where paper flowers, vibrant and chaotic in their beauty, were displayed. Each child had made one, and Charlotte’s was a riot of colors, each petal a different shade.

“It’s beautiful, darling,” Emmaline praised, her voice thick with emotion. It wasn’t just the pregnancy hormones that brought tears to her eyes but the palpable sense of community and care that enveloped them. “Just like you.”

Charlotte beamed, her small chest puffing out with pride. Alexander purchased a handful of the paper flowers, including two of Charlotte’s creations, and handed them out to some of the other children, who giggled and thanked him with wide-eyed wonder.

As they moved from stall to stall, Emmaline’s gaze caught on a young girl, no older than ten, her expression one of quiet melancholy amidst the revelry. The girl sat alone at the end of a long table, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

“Who’s that?” Emmaline asked one of the caretakers, a kindly middle-aged woman named Mrs. Dobson, who had been with the orphanage since its inception.

“That’s Sarah,” Mrs. Dobson explained, her eyes softening. “She’s new here. Came to us just last week. Poor child lost her parents in a carriage accident. She’s been rather withdrawn.”

Emmaline’s heart clenched. The joy of the day dimmed slightly as she considered the girl’s plight. With a determined look, she approached Sarah, Alexander following a step behind, always her anchor.

“Hello, Sarah,” Emmaline greeted gently, crouching down to be at eye level with the girl. “I’m Emmaline, and this is my husband, Alexander. We’re so glad you’re here with us today.”

Sarah looked up, her eyes a clear, piercing blue that seemed to hold depths beyond her years. “Thank you, ma’am,” she replied quietly.

“I see you haven’t made a flower yet. Would you like to make one with me?” Emmaline offered, her voice warm and inviting.

Sarah hesitated, then nodded slowly. Emmaline smiled, reaching for some paper and beginning to fold it carefully. “Let’s choose some colors. What’s your favorite?”

“Purple,” Sarah said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Perfect,” Emmaline responded, handing her a sheet of purple paper.

As they worked together, Alexander watched, his heart swelling with love for Emmaline. Her kindness, her compassion—it was boundless. He knelt beside them, helping to twist a green pipe cleaner into a stem.

“Look at that, Sarah,” Alexander said as they finished, his tone light and encouraging. “You’ve made a beautiful flower.”

Sarah’s smile grew, and she looked up at Emmaline and Alexander with a new light in her eyes. “Thank you,” she murmured, clutching the paper flower to her chest.

“You’re very welcome,” Emmaline replied, her hand briefly covering Alexander’s. They shared a look, a silent communication of love and shared purpose.

The day moved on, the sun tracing its path across the sky, casting long shadows on the grounds of the orphanage. Children ran and laughed, the air filled with the sounds of happiness—a melody sweeter than any music. And amidst it all, Emmaline and Alexander stood together, their family growing, their love deepening with every shared glance, every touch, every word spoken in the quiet confidence of their bond.

As the festival began to wind down, Alexander wrapped an arm around Emmaline’s shoulders, guiding her toward a quieter part of the garden. They needed a moment, just the two of them, beneath the sprawling branches of an ancient elm.

“Today was wonderful,” Emmaline said, resting her head against Alexander’s shoulder.

“It was,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And every day with you is even more so.”

In the quiet that followed, filled only by the distant laughter of children and the rustling of leaves, they stood together, the future unfurling before them like the vast, beautiful horizon. A future filled with love, with challenges met together, and with the joy of helping those most in need of it. They were partners in every sense, their love the foundation of a legacy that would, they hoped, echo through the years in the laughter of children and the beauty of a life shared and cherished.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in strokes of pink and orange, the festival’s energy simmered down into a serene evening glow. Children, tired from the day’s excitement, gathered in small groups, sharing stories and laughter under the watchful eyes of their caretakers. Emmaline and Alexander found themselves walking hand-in-hand toward the quieter part of the garden, where the noise faded into a distant hum, allowing them a moment of privacy.

The garden was a sanctuary of blooming flowers and aromatic herbs, with a small, secluded alcove formed by the intertwining branches of rose bushes and jasmine. It was their secret haven within the haven they had built for so many. As they entered the alcove, the sweet fragrance of jasmine filled the air, wrapping around them like a soft, scented shawl.

Alexander pulled Emmaline close, his hands resting gently on her waist. “I love seeing you like this,” he murmured, his gaze adoring as he looked down at her. “So vibrant, so alive. It reminds me of the first day we met, under less joyous circumstances, but no less impactful.”

Emmaline’s cheeks flushed with pleasure under his intense gaze. “I was thinking the same,” she confessed, her hands moving to circle his neck. “Every day with you brings something new and wonderful, even amidst challenges.”

“The greatest joy of my life,” Alexander said, leaning in to capture her lips with his. The kiss was soft at first, explorative, as if they were rediscovering each other all over again. But as always, the gentle touch ignited a deeper, more urgent need, and soon the kiss deepened, fueled by the years of love and passion shared between them.

Emmaline’s back pressed against the cool stone of the garden wall, her body arching instinctively towards him, her belly a gentle barrier that Alexander was ever mindful of. His kisses trailed from her lips down the curve of her neck, where he lingered, savoring the rapid pulse beneath her skin.

“Alex,” Emmaline breathed out, her fingers threading through his hair, tugging him back to her lips. Her breath was a whisper against his mouth, her eyes heavy with desire.

He responded with a growl low in his throat, his hands framing her face as he kissed her again, pouring every ounce of his love and desire into the embrace. The world around them seemed to fall away, leaving nothing but the two of them, bound by a love as eternal as the stars overhead.

“I want you,” Alexander whispered hoarsely, pulling back just enough to speak, his forehead resting against hers. “Here, now, under the stars. I want to remind you that you are my heart, my life.”

“And you are mine,” Emmaline replied, her voice thick with emotion. With a gentle yet insistent push, she guided him down to the soft grass beneath the jasmine and roses. The garden around them provided a secluded canopy, their natural privacy screen from the world.

As they lay down together on the cool earth, Alexander’s hands roamed over her, each touch reverent and filled with the unspoken words of his heart. Clothes were gently, but swiftly, discarded, a task made easier by the simplicity of summer fabrics.

The cool breeze against their skin contrasted with the heat that built between them, a delicious friction that only heightened their senses. Emmaline’s hands explored Alexander’s back, her nails drawing lines that made him shudder with need. When he entered her, it was with a slow, deliberate motion that drew a gasp from them both, the connection searing in its intensity.

They moved together under the canopy of twilight, their rhythm a perfect harmony that spoke of years of loving each other, learning each other’s desires and responses. Emmaline clung to him, her legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him deeper, her soft cries mingling with the rustling leaves and whispering winds.

Alexander’s mouth found hers again, kissing her with a passion that echoed the thunder of his heartbeat. “I love you,” he whispered into her ear, each thrust punctuating his words, a vow renewed with every breath and touch.

“I love you more,” Emmaline responded, her voice breaking with the crescendo of her pleasure. Together, they climbed towards the peak, their bodies and souls intertwined in the most profound dance of their love.

As they reached the pinnacle, the world seemed to pause, the only sounds their shared breaths and the beating of their hearts. They collapsed together, a tangle of limbs and satisfied sighs, the grass beneath them a soft cradle.

Lying there under the blanket of night, with the stars as their witnesses, they held each other close, the magic of the day weaving into the tapestry of their life together. It was a moment of perfect peace, a breath in time where everything felt right.

As the stars twinkled above, casting a gentle glow over the garden, Alexander and Emmaline lay in each other’s arms, the quiet of the evening enveloping them like a soft embrace. The energy of the day had faded into a tranquil night, leaving them alone in their secluded alcove, surrounded by the fragrance of jasmine and the soft rustle of leaves.

“Today was more than just a celebration for the children, wasn’t it?” Emmaline whispered, her head resting on Alexander’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“It was a celebration of us, too,” he replied, his fingers gently tracing patterns on her back. “Of everything we’ve overcome and everything we’ve built together. This place… it’s a part of us now.”

Emmaline lifted her head to look at him, her green eyes reflecting the starlight. “I sometimes find it hard to believe how much has changed, how far we’ve come from those tumultuous beginnings.”

Alexander propped himself on one elbow, gazing down at her with a smile. “I believe our love was destined to thrive, no matter the challenges. It’s as if every step we took was leading us here, to this moment, to this life we’ve created.”

Emmaline’s hand caressed his cheek, feeling the rough stubble and the warmth of his skin. “And we have many more steps to take together, Alex. With our children, and this place that’s become a beacon of hope.”

“Yes, and each step will be taken together, as it should be.” He kissed her forehead gently. “Speaking of steps, there’s something I’ve been planning, something for us.”

Curiosity lit up her face. “Oh? What kind of something?”

Alexander’s grin widened. “I think it’s time we took a little trip, just the two of us. I’ve arranged for the children to stay with Mrs. Dobson and her team next weekend. We’ll go to Bath. Just like we talked about on our wedding day, remember?”

Her eyes sparkled with excitement and a touch of nostalgia. “You remembered that?”

“Of course, I remember everything you say,” he teased lightly, then grew serious. “It’s important to me, Emmaline, that amidst all our duties here, we don’t forget to nurture our own love, to stoke the fire that burns so brightly between us.”

Tears of joy brimmed in her eyes, moved by his thoughtfulness. “Oh, Alex, that sounds wonderful. I love you so much.”

“And I you, more than words can express.” He sealed his vow with a tender kiss that spoke volumes of the depth of his feelings for her.

As they lay back down, wrapped in each other’s arms, they discussed plans for their upcoming getaway, their voices low and intimate against the backdrop of the nocturnal symphony of the garden.

The next morning arrived with a brilliant sunrise that painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson. The air was crisp, filled with the songs of birds and the distant laughter of children as they started another day full of play and learning.

Alexander and Emmaline walked hand in hand through the grounds of the orphanage, their hearts full as they watched their dream continue to flourish. They greeted the children, who rushed to share their tales of tiny adventures and new discoveries.

Later, they stood together, overlooking the estate from the hill at the back of the property. The orphanage stood proudly amidst the lush gardens, a symbol of resilience and hope.

“This place, these children, our family… it’s more than I ever hoped for,” Emmaline said, leaning into Alexander’s side.

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. “It’s only the beginning, my love. There’s so much more to come.”

As they turned to join the children, their hands remained clasped tightly, a physical manifestation of their unwavering bond. Behind them, the orphanage basked in the morning light, a fortress of love and laughter, echoing the joy and passion of its founders.

Their steps were light, their future bright, and their love—the cornerstone of every endeavor, every challenge, every joyous moment—continued to guide them forward. Together, Alexander and Emmaline faced the world, not just as lovers or as philanthropists, but as true partners in every sense of the word, their love story a beacon for all who sought warmth in its glow.

THE END



OFFER: A BRAND NEW SERIES AND 2 FREEBIES FOR YOU!

Grab my new series, "Secrets and Passions of High Society", and get 2 FREE novels as a gift! Have a look here!




19 thoughts on “A Scarred Duke Takes a Bride – Extended Epilogue”

    1. Enjoyed it very much, but woukd love to know what happened about the club he owned and also what happened between Sean and his sister

  1. Thoroughly enjoyed this story. It certainly holds one’s interest. I hoped to find out what happened to the club. I also anticipated learning what happens to Sean and Lorraine.

  2. Alex was a victim of his wicked uncle who coveted is title of duke . marriage to Em turned his life aroud. The characters and plot kept my interest until the last page and the epilogue was the icing on the cake.

  3. I must admit I loved this story from beginning to end. It was slightly different from other romances, with each page leading you to another moment. It was beautiful

  4. I liked the story very much, not only the sensual part but also a struggle of the protagonists for their love and their lives.
    Nicely written!

  5. It was a lovely story of Alexander and Emmeline. I would have preferred more character revelations and less description of the sex encounters. However, I know that many like the steamy scenes so I see the need to include them. I had known that the uncle was lying and manipulating ever since you wrote that he kept finding new loans that needed to be paid. Considering the old duke died more than 10 years ago, there is no way he was not cheating Alex. The fraudulent letter regarding the ship wreck was a surprise. An epilogue is meant to tie up loose ends but you failed to do that. Alex ran the club for years so you needed to clarify what happened to it. Did he still run the club without resorting to devilish behavior or did he close it or sell it or even just give it to Sean? You kept talking about the closeness between Sean and Lorraine but there is no mention of them or Jane in the epilogue. I think the epilogue could have been much better.

    1. Thank you for your thoughtful feedback and for taking the time to share your thoughts, dear Madhu! I appreciate your insights on the balance between character development and steamy scenes, as well as your observations on the plot and epilogue.

      I apologize for the oversight regarding the resolution of Alex’s club and the characters you mentioned. I will definitely take your comments into consideration and work on updating the epilogue to address these points.

      Thank you again for your feedback and for reading the story. Your support is invaluable!

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