For a long moment, he seemed incapable of reply. “I’m certain I was not born to deserve you,” he finally said. “But I vowed long ago to never accept the limitations of my birth. ”
“I’m so glad of it. ”
They stayed that way for the longest time, lost in one another’s loving stares. Sitting across a desk crowded with paperwork, in the midst of a busy office, under the curious gaze of several clerks. Elegant ballrooms, nothing. Lily couldn’t imagine a more romantic scene.
“We’re going to be so happy. You told me that, the day we wed. ” He pressed his hand over hers. “I confess, I didn’t believe you then. ”
“But now you do?”
“I do. Heart, mind, and soul. We are going to be so happy. ”
The words alone filled her with joy. Heart, mind, and soul. “We’re going to be unstoppable. ”
She reached to slide the spectacles from his face. As she slowly teased them free, his gaze flicked to the window and the curious clerks beyond.
“They’re watching us. ”
She folded the spectacles and carefully set them aside. Leaning toward him over the desk, she asked, “Isn’t there a curtain for that window?”
“Yes,” he said, closing the rest of the distance. “There is. ”
And then he kissed her, long and slow and deep. In plain view, without drawing any curtains at all. Because they weren’t hiding anything anymore. Not from each other. Not from the world.
Well, and because beneath the clerkish spectacles—her husband remained, at heart, a scoundrel.
She wouldn’t have it any other way.
Epilogue
Years later
“She’s grown up well. ” Julian propped his elbows on the fence rail. “Pretty thing, isn’t she?”
Morland and Ashworth turned to him, surprised.
“Where did you come from?” the duke asked. “We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow. ”
He doffed his hat and hung it on a fencepost. “I finished my business in York early. ” To the duke, he said, “Remind me. How old is she now?”
“Turned three this past spring. ” Morland’s voice was rich with pride.
“And the dark one?” Julian pointed. “He’s yours, too?”
“No, no,” the duke said. “He’s Claudia’s. Note the intractable spirit. Take care with him around your little ones. He’s been known to bite. ”
He chuckled. “Why am I unsurprised?”
“What took you to York?” Ashworth asked. “Another mercantile venture?”
Julian nodded.
“How many does that make?”
“Eleven, all told. Our twelfth opens in Liverpool this autumn. ”
He’d just come from the grand opening of the latest Aegis Emporium, a shop selling quality, ready-made clothing for the working man. The idea had come to him back during the war, when the military contracts were rolling in faster than he could fill them. Rather than custom-tailor each coat, they’d begun producing them in advance, based on the most common measurements. In recent years, Julian had adapted the process to civilian attire, making above-average clothing affordable to the average man.
It was honest trade, and worthwhile work. And thus far, a very lucrative venture.
He squinted. “Which one is yours, Ashworth? The big one under the tree?”
Ashworth nodded. “Only a yearling, but fast as a demon. I plan to sell him for racing, but Morland’s training him here for another year first. ”
“Osiris left quite a legacy,” Julian mused.
Collective silence served as agreement, as the three of them stood there, leaning on the paddock fence and watching the ponies graze. The grand old stallion had died this past winter, but Osiris was survived by several colts, a good many fillies, and a lasting circle of friendship.
The summer sun warmed Julian’s face, and a light breeze lifted his hair. He was tempted to stay and rest, enjoying the fine Cambridgeshire afternoon and the simple pleasure of not talking with old friends.
Another day, perhaps. It had been two weeks since he’d last seen his family, and he didn’t want to wait two minutes more. He pushed off from the fence and retrieved his hat. “Where are the ladies and children?”
“Kiss it. ”
Mary crossed her arms. “Absolutely not. ”
“It’s the game,” Hugh insisted. “You have to kiss it. ” He thrust the foul, squirming creature in her face and smacked his lips noisily. Behind him, Philip and Leo doubled with laughter.
Mary gave a little growl. Boys.
It was bad enough she had to share everything with Leo, but at least in Town, she had her own friends. Here on holiday at Braxton Hall, her choice of playmates was limited to boys or babies. Mary didn’t want to play with the babies. She wanted to play in Hugh and Philip’s splendid playhouse. It was built like a castle, with real doors and windows and furniture. But it was Hugh and Philip’s playhouse, which meant she had to pay for the privilege of enjoying it by playing along with the boys’ games.
On good days, they would let her play scullery maid to their Arthurian knights or galley wench to their pirates. In the little kitchen, she could spend happy hours weaving reeds into trivets and arranging flowers, whilst the boys dashed about with wooden daggers, looking ridiculous as anything.
Yesterday, they’d even crowned her Queen. But she must have enjoyed her power a little too much, for today she’d been demoted to Imprisoned Princess and confined to the hot, dusty turret. Hours now, and still they hadn’t rescued her. She’d all but decided to head back to the Hall to find a book, when up the ladder the boys clambered, red-faced and laughing.
And in possession of a toad.
“I will not kiss that thing. I’d rather stay imprisoned forever. ” In other words, until dinner, which could not be far off. Her stomach rumbled.
“Beg for your freedom, then,” Hugh said. “Say, ‘Prithee, my lord. ’”
She rolled her eyes. Hugh would never let them forget he was a duke’s son, and already Earl of Something-or-Other.
“See here,” said Philip. “Kiss the toad. Or we shan’t let you back in the playhouse again. ”
Mary dug in her heels. That was one thing about always having to play with boys. A girl learned to be tenacious. “Go right ahead. My father will build me my own playhouse. Ten times grander than this old heap. ”
Philip said smugly, “Your father’s not even here. ”
“At least I have a father,” she shot back.
“My godfath—”
“Your godfather what?” she said, teasing. “Flew to the moon Thursday last?” Philip was always spinning wild, unbelievable tales about Mr. Faraday.
Don’t, her brother signed at her, his shoulders tight with anger. He’s my friend. It’s not kind.
A glance at Philip’s face told Mary she’d gone too far. The toad, she signed apologetically. Take it away.
Over the loud objections of his friends, Leo grabbed the toad and shoved it through the narrow turret window. She and Leo weren’t supposed to sign in front of those who couldn’t understand—it was rude, Mother always said. But at times a secret language came in useful.
“What’s this?” came a deep voice from below. “An Egyptian plague? Toads, falling from the sky. ”
Mary and Leo’s gazes met. “Father!” they cried as one.
There was a mad scramble to climb down the ladder, which Mary won. She then set herself the task of climbing her father.
“Papa. ” She clutched his neck and hugged tight, not even minding his rough whiskers. Even unshaven, he was much nicer to kiss than a toad. “The boys are horrid. They locked me in the turret. ”
He laughed. “Well, and so I’ve come to rescue you. ”
Leo stood close. He was a year younger, but he considered himself too grown up now for hugs and kisses, especially in front of his friends. He
did accept a brisk rub on the head.
Mary wormed her hand downward, to her father’s side pocket. But before she could reach her prize, he set her on the ground. She and Leo had to do three sums each and correctly spell “hypotenuse” before he finally withdrew the packet of sweets.
“One last question,” he asked, holding the tantalizing treats just out of reach. “Where will I find your mother?”
“Oh, take care, darling!” Amelia rescued a chubby finger from a near miss with a thorn. She kissed the plump little hand in apology and herded her daughter back toward the mums. “Just the daisies, Claire. Only pick the daisies. Leave the roses to Mama. ”
“I think I see someone coming. ” From her seat beneath the canopy, Meredith looked up from fanning the blond infant slumbering in her lap. She peered into the distance. “Just there, over the rise. ”
“Well, I know it won’t be our husbands. ” Amelia snipped another rose. “I’d bet my last crock of winter pears, Spencer will keep Rhys at the stables all day. Perhaps it’s Claudia and Mr. Faraday, back from their walk. ”
“No,” Meredith said, raising one hand to shade her brow. “I don’t think so. I only see one. But I’m glad to know those two are still fast friends. ”
“So am I,” Amelia replied. Claudia had grown into full womanhood now, tall, curvaceous and—as ever—bold. Mr. Faraday seemed to have a gentling influence on her. “They exchange a great many letters. And Mr. Faraday takes his role as Philip’s godfather very seriously. He’s already planned out the boy’s schooling, from tutors to Eton to Oxford to a tour of cathedrals on the Continent. Both Philip and Hugh are terrifically fond of him. ”
A thin wail rose up from beneath the canopy. With reluctance, Amelia put away her shears. Nap was over.
In Meredith’s lap, baby Charlotte squirmed, squalling and red-faced.
“I’m so sorry,” Meredith said, rising to her feet.
“Don’t be,” Amelia reached to gather her crying child. “It’s high time she awoke. Come to Mama, darling. ”
She thought she glimpsed a flicker of emotion in Meredith’s eyes as her friend relinquished the fussing babe. After eight years of marriage, she and Rhys still remained childless. “It will be your turn soon,” she said softly, patting Charlotte on the back. “I’m certain of it. ”
“I’m reasonably certain of it, too. ” Meredith smiled. “It will be my turn in November, if the midwife can be believed. ”
Amelia’s startled cry of delight set off another round of baby Charlotte’s wails. And the little one was most displeased to be squashed in the middle of a hug.
“I’m so happy for you. Why didn’t you tell us earlier?”
The corner of Meredith’s mouth tugged. “So many times, we’ve thought … we’ve hoped … only for naught in the end. Don’t tell Rhys I’ve told you. He’s so oddly superstitious. ”
“But you’re certain now?”
“I think so. ” Meredith’s eyes misted, and she pressed a hand to her belly. “Does it feel like a little frog? Kicking around inside?”
“Yes. That’s precisely how it feels. ” Amelia hugged her again. “I’m so happy for you. You and Rhys will be wonderful parents. ”
“You’re expecting? That’s brilliant. ” The deep voice startled them both.
“Why, Julian,” Meredith said, releasing Amelia and stepping back. “So it was you I saw coming over the ridge. ”
“I suppose it must have been. ” After tipping his hat, he reached for Amelia’s hand, bowed over it, and kissed it lightly. “Your Grace. ” He then went through each of the others in turn, kissing hands. “Lady Ashworth. Little Lady Charlotte. ” Then, crouching beside a clump of daisies with all seriousness, “Lady Claire. ”