Luc paused; he seemed to be
struggling for words. “When you told me about the masquerade, I had a mental image of the two of us recreating my parents’ marriage. It would be my greatest fear come true.”
Looking up at him, she could see the truth in his face. He’d shut his eyes, as if trying to shut out the picture he was seeing. The ladies had told Ria about the scenes his father used to make. She could imagine the mere thought of recreating that would terrify anyone.
She went to speak, but he shook his head at her. “No, don’t say anything. Not yet. I now know it’s not true.” She felt the bunching of his muscles as he shrugged. “Ironically, it was my mother who made me see that.
He shook his head again. “She also made me look at myself, my future, and what I want. That was simple. I want you. All of you. Honey, Persephone, and Ria.”
As he said the last few words his voice shook. Ria felt warmth blossom inside her, chasing away any last lingering doubts.
Her normally self-assured and very composed earl was anything but calm at this moment. She recalled asking the ladies how you could tell if a rake was in love with you. They said he’d lose his charm. Luc had certainly lost his.
She pushed against his chest so she could look closer at his face, into his green eyes. She saw uncertainty and a hint of something else. Surely it wasn’t fear?
She looked closely. It was fear. What could he be afraid of? Fear for her safety? The danger was past. Was it fear she would refuse him?
She looked down at the blue box. Opening it, she picked up the ring then handed it to Luc. “Will you put this on my finger, please.”
Without a word, he picked up her hand and slid the ring onto her finger. Still silent, he looked at it on her hand, then curled her fist closed as though worried it might slip off. He drew her hand to his mouth and tenderly kissed the ring finger. “If anything had happened to you…”
Ria placed her ring finger against his lips to silence him. She then relaxed against him.
He felt like home.
Epilogue
Little Bridgeton, April 1814
Sitting before the mirror in her bedchamber at St. James Manor, Ria combed her dark blond hair.
Her eyes lighted on the embroideries Aunt Charity had given her that afternoon. The first of the three pieces she was familiar with already—a man was holding an apple and looking at a young lady hungrily.
The others she hadn’t seen before today. In the second, the couple gazed at each other, obviously very much in love. Behind them was a church, very similar to St. Margaret’s in Little Bridgeton.
The third piece made her throat catch. The couple was once again in the churchyard, but this time the woman held a baby in her arms.
Looking up, she saw Monty standing behind her, reflected in the mirror. When he saw her gazing at him he asked, “Before you leave for Greece tomorrow, my dear, I wonder if there is something you could do.”
Ria looked at her late husband, not trusting the too casual tone of voice. Slowly she said, “Of course.”
“Your neighbor up north, Alex Courtney—perhaps she would like to spend some time in London, at the town house. You might like to invite her.”
Taken aback at his request, her dark blue eyes narrowed. “What are you up to?”
Monty held his hands out wide, then clasped them in front of his chest. “Why, nothing. Whatever do you mean? I just thought that as she was so helpful you might like to return the favor. You are both distantly related, you know. Second or third cousins or something.”
Ria cast a mistrustful glance in his direction, not believing his innocent act for a moment. But as she couldn’t see what harm his request would do, and she wanted to help Alex, she hesitantly nodded.
Monty then said, his gray eyes tinged with concern, “You seem to have recovered from your ordeal.”
“The memories are much less painful now. The preparations for my wedding and the ceremony itself have helped greatly.”
On her return from the north, Ria had told Monty everything Geoffrey had confessed. She now asked, “I’m still confused about what Geoffrey meant when he said he made me?”
Monty shrugged. “He probably felt that the estate was his. Let’s face it, my dear, he was hardly rational.”
Before they could discuss it further, her husband strolled into the room.