When one is the rightful heir and the other wants everything just for himself. Josephine realised that she was caught in the middle of a succession war.
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The mornings that followed were filled with Hero secluding himself in the library or the study while Josephine saw to the management of the house. The afternoons were filled with walks and rides, tours of the countryside, long heated kisses beneath the boughs of trees where they took a rest, picnics, and walks along the river.
The evenings consisted of a lovely dinner, reading afterward, her reading to him, because he so loved the sound of her voice. She'd never known any man to be so enthralled with a woman's talking, as though he could never get enough.
The nights...they never seemed long enough. They made love, and slept, awoke to make love again. With each time that they came together, the fluidity of their lovemaking increased.
Josephine came to know his body almost as well as she knew her own. And she knew beyond any doubt that he knew hers equally well. He knew how to touch her to create the wonderful sensations that spiralled through her. When to pull back and drive her crazy, when to push forward and grant her release.
He was quite simply remarkable.
My darling sister,
I have thought of you often in the days since I embarked on my wedding trip to my husband's estate. Or I should say that I've thought of the conversation you had with Mother the morning of my wedding. Although I have been married only a month, I daresay that I shall never tire of the dish I'm being served.
I thought I knew so well the man I was to marry, and yet each day brings a new discovery and a deeper love. It's been a marvellous revelation to realise that I shall never grow weary of being with this man. No matter that we stroll along the same path through the garden each evening before dinner, something always catches my attention to delight me. The rumble of his laughter, the timbre of his voice, the sight of his smile, the warmth in his eyes, the heat of his kiss.
Oh, dear sister, his kiss. It lasts forever and is over too quickly. I must confess that I disagree with Mother's assessment that slow lovemaking is to be endured. Rather, I find it is to be relished.
I write to tell you this only because I wish to assuage your fears that a woman would find discontentment if she settles on only one man, for even though he is but one man, he has many moods and he is a constant mystery to be slowly unravelled.
I take joy in knowing that it will take me a lifetime
At the sound of gentle knock on the door, Josephine stopped writing, glanced over her shoulder, and bid entry. The butler opened the door and stepped into the room.
"I apologise for disturbing you, Your Grace, but the duke wishes a moment of your time in the library."
"He's returned already? I wasn't expecting him until nightfall." She rose to her feet, wondering if he finished with his business at the village more quickly because he didn't like being away from her any more than she liked his being away. "Tell him that I'll be there in ten minutes."
