Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Two months later
There had been nights in the cottage when peace seemed a distant dream, happiness little more than an idle wish, and family just a fading memory.
But here, now, laughter and music filled the ballroom at Studland Park.
The house pulsed with life, their friends’ voices echoing through rooms once silent, the lonely days behind her.
The Chance brothers made playful bets on who might lure their eldest brother from his wife’s side for five minutes. Mr Daventry and his agents waltzed with their wives, while her friends from The Burnished Jade remarked how a single year could transform everything.
“Who knew we’d be dancing at Studland Park?”
“And that Lord Rothley enjoys a party.”
He didn’t, but he’d done it for her. For their future.
Mr Dalton and Lord Rutland passed by, champagne flutes in hand, lost in conversation. Yet Gabriel had slipped from view.
“I last saw him heading for the terrace.” Mr Gentry pointed as if she didn’t know the way. “He said he needed air.”
Perhaps the memory of his parents’ parties still haunted him. Or perhaps the joy in the room was simply too much.
“I’ll see if I can coax him back to the ballroom.” She smoothed her hands over her midnight-blue gown and made her way to the terrace.
He stood gazing out over the manicured garden, hands braced on the balustrade. She took a moment to observe the rise and fall of his shoulders beneath the black evening coat, tracing the elegant line as it tapered to his narrow waist, and those solid thighs she loved to straddle.
His presence always left her breathless, yet she knew the tender man beneath the surface. Tonight, she sensed he was measuring the life he had left behind against the one they had created together.
“A penny for your thoughts,” she said, resting her hand on his back as she joined him on the terrace.
He turned towards her, sliding his arm around her waist, drawing her close. “I thought we might escape into the garden. I seem to recall seeing a nymph lounging somewhere near the fountain.”
The memory of them making love brought every nerve to life. “She might be there later, when all our guests have gone. I believe she has a penchant for bathing naked in the moonlight.”
“And I have a penchant for her.” He bent, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. “And, it seems, for nighttime romps, which we’ll resume the minute we have the house to ourselves.”
“Is that why you’re out here?” She rested her head against him. “So our friends don’t get too comfortable and outstay their welcome?”
He laughed as he stared at the shadow of Wynbury Hall on the horizon. “No, I was contemplating what we might do with the house.”
She frowned, following his gaze. “The house? What could we possibly do? It’s been seized by the Crown, the money from the sale meant for almshouses in World’s End.”
“I insisted we have first refusal. And I was thinking we could have an enormous bonfire, roast a hog, and invite the whole parish to dance on Mrs Culpepper’s grave.”
She caught his arm and turned him to face her. “Memories live in the mind, not in bricks and mortar. Burning the house won't change that.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “I’ll not have crooks living so close again. I’d rather see it turned to pasture.”
“We’d have to be rather unfortunate to suffer a similar fate. Besides, our attention will be elsewhere.” She had meant to wait until tomorrow to tell him the good news, but the sky was clear, the stars were out, and love filled her heart. “There’s something I wanted to discuss with you.”
He straightened, giving her his full attention. He took her hand, tracing the edge of her wedding band with his thumb. “You’ve read the inscription? When? Today, when you went to town?”
“Not yet, no.” She had tried once or twice, but he’d written it back when they’d agreed to a marriage of friendship, and fear stopped her from reading it now. “But perhaps this will be a night of surprises.”
“You have a surprise for me?” His lips curved in wicked amusement. “Should I wear a blindfold … guess where you might touch me next?”
“No.” She laughed, though the memory of her mouth on his fevered skin stirred the embers of desire once more.
“There’ll be time for that later.” She hesitated, the news pressing at her lips like a secret too large to hold.
“I think I’m with child. I’ve missed two courses, and have been plagued by nausea for days. ”
He stilled. For a long moment, he simply looked at her—as though she were something rare and unexpected, a jewel amongst a handful of pebbles. When he spoke, his throat was tight with emotion.
“You’re certain?”
“As certain as I can be.” She laid her hand over his heart, which thumped in time with the music. “I know it’s a shock—”
“Not at the rate we make love. And I’m not shocked.” He covered her hand with his. “I just didn’t expect life could be any better.”
She gave that teasing smile he claimed spelled trouble. “I’d count on it getting considerably better. We have a lot of rooms to fill.”
He pulled her close and kissed her, her belly tightening with each slow slide of his mouth.
“Read the inscription, Olivia.” His voice was as rich as brandy, his dark eyes fixed on hers. “You have my heart, my soul. What is there to fear?” He kissed her again, a promise in every touch. “Read it, and I’ll tell you what wish I made with the halfpenny.”
It was the enticement she needed. She eased it to her knuckle. “I’m not sure it will come off.”
“Let me help you.” He caught her hand and wiggled the band loose, though his gaze kept drifting to her face. When the ring came free, he placed it gently in her palm.
She peered at the tiny inscription, squinting in the candlelight, but it was almost impossible to read. “I can see it starts with Who …”
“Shall I tell you what it says?”
“Please do. It would feel more personal if spoken aloud.”
He took the gold band and positioned it on her finger, sliding it slowly back to her knuckle. “Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?”
The quote caught her off guard, not the words, but the way he said them, as if he’d made her his world the moment they met.
“Hero and Leander,” she said, a little breathless. “You believe our connection is fated?”
“For me, it was immediate. Unforgettable.” He pressed the ring into its rightful place. “I married you because I wanted you. There wasn’t a week, day, or hour when you weren’t uppermost in my thoughts.”
Tears blurred her vision, the plump drops falling onto her cheeks. “But you said a marriage of friendship was—”
“Forget what I said. I threw a halfpenny into a murky pool months ago, and my one wish was you.”
“Me?”
The word came out quieter than she intended, more wonder than question.
She had felt it too, simmering just beneath the surface. Attraction. Anticipation. And something else she’d been too afraid to name.
“Thank heavens your wish came true.”
He smiled faintly. “I knew it would, even before the coin touched the water.”
She studied his face, his eyes steady and sure in the moonlight. “You’ve wasted a decade avoiding romantic liaisons. What gave you faith in the future?”
He leaned in, brushing her lips with his. “I haven’t wasted the last decade, my love. I’ve spent it waiting for you.”