Rafe had not been to many weddings in his life, but he was fairly sure that his own, which took place that night in his townhouse, was not quite usual, given that the celebrant was a mischievous Shakespearean fairy, and the witnesses were a Roman goddess, a Royal footman, and a retired actress in a golden gown. Gilbert and the other servants crowded around too. Rafe saw only Thea, whose eyes smiled at him as they spoke their vows.
“Is that it?” Rafe demanded, shoving the signed paperwork back at Nicholas. “Are we married?”
“You are.”
“Good. Then you can all get out of my house. Now.”
The servants eagerly left, to celebrate in their hall. Thea crossed to say her farewells to Miss Larke, and Rafe turned to the bishop and his sparkling brown eyes.
“I told you so,” Nicholas sang.
Overcome with laughter, Rafe gathered the older man into a fierce hug. No sooner had he released him than Thea approached, grinning at them both.
“Bloody hell, don’t you two start chatting, or we’ll be here all night,” Rafe grumbled.
“I need to thank the bishop,” Thea protested.
“He’ll show up soon enough, for tea and gossip, and you can thank him then.”
“Besides, we need to discuss Christmas,” Nicholas said. “Judith and I have decided that you will host the extended family for Christmas at Brinkley End this year.”
“We will not,” Rafe said, as Thea cried, “Oh yes!”
Rafe might have argued, but he spied Miss Larke wrapping a velvet cloak around her shoulders, preparing to slip out. Something in her expression compelled him to follow her.
“Miss Larke?”
She paused in the open doorway. “My lord?”
“I behaved badly toward you when we first met,” he said. “The threats I made, the way I used you to manipulate Thea— I apologize for causing you distress.”
She considered him coolly. “Treat Thea well, and all is forgiven.”
“You were a friend to Thea when she most needed one, at risk to yourself. I am in your debt. Only say the word, and we shall not hesitate to help.”
A bleak look shadowed Miss Larke’s eyes, as if she might weep. But a heartbeat later, the expression passed, and she was her usual proud, aloof self.
“Good grief. Love does soften a man’s brain,” she drawled. “Why on earth would you imagine that I might need help?” She inclined her head. “Good night, my lord. Felicitations on your marriage.”
With that, she stepped into the night.
A moment later, Sally and Martha hurtled past, calling good-byes as they ran to a waiting hack, and finally, Rafe managed to shove Nicholas out the door and slam it shut. At his look, the last of the servants melted away, and he and Thea were blessedly alone, in the blessed silence.
“Finally,” Rafe said, slipping his hands around her waist. “All those blasted people are gone.”
Thea smoothed her palms over his chest. “You did a lot of talking tonight.”
“So I shall not talk to anyone for a week.”
“You’ll talk to me.”
“I will.” Rafe slid his hands up her arms to cradle her face. He brushed his thumbs over her lips. “I have syllabub waiting upstairs. You will not have to choose between pleasures.”
A wicked gleam lit her blue eyes, sending desire shooting through his groin. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her promising softness against him. “Will you feed it to me?”
Rafe ducked and scooped her into his arms, laughing at her squeals of delight.
“I shall paint it on your skin,” he said. “I shall kiss you everywhere, and make love to you until all you can think of is me.”
“And then?” she whispered.
Rafe tightened his arms around her. “And then I shall take you home.”
Epilogue
To the delight of the hordes that invaded Brinkley End that December, it snowed a few days before Christmas.
Rafe arrived from his greenhouse, the cold air slicing his cheeks, and stopped short at the sight of the lawn. Or, more precisely, at the inordinately large number of children running around in the snow, squealing and yelling. Christopher and Mary had several children, and Mary’s sister and husband had shown up with their children, and Thea’s parents had brought the Little Ones, and while that added up to an absurd number of children, it still did not account for the masses on his lawn.
One figure parted from the others and hurled herself at him, blue eyes bright. Rafe dropped a kiss on her pink nose, and another on her pink lips, then pulled her against him and studied the screaming creatures.
Thea elbowed him. “If you keep scowling at the children like that, they’ll get frightened and run away.”