Part 39 (1/2)

He reveled in the feel of her. He reveled in her in his arms. And in their love and untamable pa.s.sion.

She cried out as she climaxed, her inner muscles contracting along his plunging length. His heart hammering, he drove into her with a final heavy thrust, and tossed his head back, roaring her name, gripped by the paralyzing pleasure flooding through him. Pouring everything he had in her.

His breathing coming in hard pants, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead on hers. If he could have smiled, he would have. He had a lifetime ahead of more of the same. Was there a man on this earth more fortunate than he?

He gazed down at her. Pink cheeks, heavy lids, freshly sated, she looked so beautiful.

Still semi-hard inside her, Simon rolled over onto his back, taking Angelica with him. He pulled her down for a kiss, enjoying the simple pleasure of having her sweet mouth against his own.

”It's been so long, Simon.” A soft smile played on her lips.

”Too long, mon ange.”

”I want to go home. Back to the island,” she said. Her words filled him with a sense of contentment as images of their future together flitted through his mind.

He was glad to hear it. He had no intention of remaining in France with Louis's carnal interest keenly focused on her. He planned to take the responsibility that came with his t.i.tle seriously, but not to Angelica's detriment. Making arrangements to meet his obligations would be addressed later. He didn't want to think about it now. At the moment, he just wanted to hold his wife.

”I want Fouquet's wife to keep the remainder of my estate that wasn't forwarded to her by her husband. She'll need it when he's gone. I won't litigate over it. It was part of my old life. I have a new life with you.”

He caressed her back. ”Very well. If that is what you wish.”

”It is.” She pressed her lush mouth to his. What began as a tender kiss quickly turned heated and hungry, his c.o.c.k stiffening inside her. ”Love me, Simon,” she murmured.

”I do, mon ange.” He rolled them over, pinning her to the bed. ”I always will.”

Epilogue.

Marguerite Island.

France was at peace.

Fouquet was on trial.

And life on the island was very good.

On July 1, 1662, Angelica gave birth to a son, with Simon by her side. He refused to leave until he was certain both his wife and child were not in any danger. They named their son Robert etienne.

The island celebrated.

Domenico, Jules, and Armand couldn't have been happier for the marquis and marquise, deriving great amus.e.m.e.nt from the changes in their friend as fatherhood took root. Simon was known to disappear for hours at a time only to be discovered in the nursery. Or as the baby grew, much to a.s.sunta's and Marta's protestations, he was to be found playing with six-month-old Robert, who now had his mother's eyes and his father's hair, on a blanket near their favorite spot at the waterfalls. He would regale his son with fascinating tales about a brave commodore named Robert d'Arles and the adventures that they had shared.

Gabriella was thrilled that Angelica had a son who was a year younger than her own son, Matteo. The parents felt certain that the three children, Isabelle de Moutier-Jules and Sabine's little girl-Matteo, and Robert were destined to become the best of friends. Of course, since Isabelle was slightly older and had her mother's will, joked Jules, she would no doubt set the boys straight should they go astray.

Good fortune shone on the inhabitants of the island.

While businesses prospered, love bloomed for Armand and Marie Jaures.

True to his word, Paul did indeed kiss Suzette the moment he saw her on the beach upon his return and has not stopped demonstrating his well-received affection since.

Angelica's life fell into a blissful pattern, teaching with Gabriella each morning in the new two-room schoolhouse, afternoons with her son, joyful evenings with her small family, and nights of pa.s.sion in her husband's arms.

Late one night while Angelica slept, Simon watched her with a contented smile. Slowly rising from the bed, taking care not to wake her, he donned his black dressing gown and went to Robert's nursery.

He found the baby awake but not crying. Upon seeing his father peering down at him, Robert squealed with delight. Simon grinned and reached down, slipping his finger in his son's chubby hand. The baby squeezed and gurgled happily.

”Robert, have I told you about angels? No? Well then, listen well, my son.” Simon bent down and picked up his little boy, cradling him in his arms.

”Should you happen to find one, and I pray that you do, hold on to her tightly and never let her go, for you can never imagine the blessings that she will bring to your life.” Robert pulled the tip of Simon's finger into his mouth and sucked contently. Simon, still smiling, walked over to the window, holding his tiny boy. ”She may not be easy to find, Robert. She may be hiding, but look in the moonlight, when the moon is at its fullest. She may appear then... Seek her out.” He kissed the baby's head. ”The unlimited happiness that she will bring you is most definitely worth the effort.”

Author's Note.

King Louis did not get his way.

Nicolas Fouquet was never executed.

Louis had Fouquet arrested for embezzlement of Crown funds on his 23rd birthday (September 5, 1661), perhaps as a present to himself, and not three weeks earlier at Fouquet's elaborate party at Vaux-le-Vicomte (August 17, 1661), as indicated in this story. Louis had wanted to arrest Fouquet at the party, but his mother, Anne of Austria, convinced him to wait. Six thousand guests were in attendance, all of whom were served on gold service and given gifts of jewelry, silks, and horses.

Fouquet, although shrewd in finance, completely misunderstood and misjudged his king. Believing he was indispensable, blinded by his ambition to step into Mazarin's shoes after his death, he never saw his doom on the horizon.

After Mazarin's death, Louis asked Jean-Baptiste Colbert, who had worked for Cardinal Mazarin, to examine Fouquet's accounting. Colbert, who disliked Fouquet, took great pleasure in pointing out the malpractices and falsifications. (Perhaps he also had a little help from a privateer fleet commander and his green-eyed moonlight angel *smiles*.) Fouquet's trial was one of the most sensational in French history. The trial process lasted three years. In his defense, Fouquet tried to blame Mazarin, stating that he'd been fully aware of and often dictated Fouquet's practices, and that Mazarin also made no distinction between the Crown Treasury and his personal fortune. This incensed Louis. He didn't want the memory of his beloved G.o.dfather maligned or Mazarin's name connected with any of Fouquet's misdeeds.

As the trial dragged on, people became more divided in their opinions of Fouquet. Louis made it no secret that he was willing to accept the death penalty. However, he didn't press this because he was concerned it would make him look fearful of Fouquet to his court.