Epilogue
SIX MONTHS LATER
The spring air kissed Sibyl’s skin where she sat on the terrace outside the ballroom. She closed her eyes, humming happily to herself, her fingers tapping away on the arm of her chair.
“If you close your eyes, you might miss it.”
She cracked one eye open, smiling when she opened both to gaze up at Gabriel.
In the last six months, he had grown his hair a little, the ends almost reaching his shoulders. He looked more handsome with every passing day.
“I would never dream of missing it.”
She pulled him into a kiss before they looked at Rosie, who was crawling across the terrace, her little hands hitting the floor as she determinedly heaved herself along.
Any day now, she would take her first steps. Sibyl and Gabriel were sure of it, and neither of them wished to miss it.
“Heavens, she is fast,” Isabella laughed as she collapsed heavily into the chair next to Sibyl.
Her hands rested on her belly, swollen with her second child. At her side, Oscar toyed with a lock of her hair.
Sibyl wondered if Isabella knew how her husband’s eyes softened when he watched her or when he placed a hand on her stomach.
“You were a rather fast crawler, though,” Hermia noted, nodding at her. “So she takes after her mama.”
“And those little fists,” Nicholas chuckled, bracing his hands on the back of Gabriel’s chair. “She has her father’s ready hands.”
Warmth spread through Sibyl.
By now, Gabriel was Rosie’s father, through and through. Already, he had been in her life longer than Edmund, and already he had done much more than Edmund would ever have.
Thankfully, that name was a distant memory.
Sibyl simply felt nothing for that man, nor the life she had once had.
No, her future was there, between Stonehelm Hall and the townhouse, surrounded by her family, their ranks growing.
It was there, right beside her husband, whose fingers threaded through hers to bring her knuckles to his mouth.
He smiled at her. “I like that,” he said quietly. “Being her father.”
“You are,” Sibyl agreed. “And she loves you so much. I am certain she cries out for me only to get you to hold her instead.”
Gabriel chuckled and kissed her cheek. “A daughter will always need her mother more than anyone.” Lowering his voice, he added, “And I will always need my Sibyl.”
“I have a question, actually,” Nicholas spoke up.
“Yes?” Sibyl prompted.
“Where is that delightfully spirited younger sister of yours? She disappeared inside to call for lemonade a while ago, but she has not returned.”
“Ah, she has most likely snuck into my study again,” Gabriel replied, chuckling. “She finds it fascinating. Apparently, Lord Wickleby does not let her into his, so I do not mind her being in there.”
That dinner at Averby Hall flashed through Sibyl’s mind. She recalled Nicholas mentioning his ideal lady and how she had fleetingly thought that, despite their age difference, he and Alicia could make a good match.
Like flint and stone.
“Actually,” she said slowly, “I am rather parched, so maybe you could go and check if she got the lemonade?”
“As long as she does not size me up as she did when I entered the manor earlier,” Nicholas snorted, before going back inside.
As Sibyl settled back into her chair, she caught Gabriel eying her narrowly. “What?” She smiled innocently.
“What are you up to? I know that tone and smile.”
“I am up to nothing.” She smirked. “I just think Nicholas ought to find Alicia so she does not miss out on the gathering, is all. It is all very innocent.”
“I am sure.” He raised an eyebrow. “Whatever it is you are doing, I want to know, so we can do it together. Let me be cunning with you.”
But before Sibyl could lean in to whisper her matchmaking plans, Gabriel’s attention was snagged by Rosie. He shot to his feet, crying out.
“Sibyl, Sibyl! She is doing it—she is doing it!” Laughter spilled out of him as they both watched Rosie hunch over, trying to push up to her feet.
Sibyl stood slowly, covering her mouth in shock. “Oh, Heavens,” she whispered. “She is going to take her first steps.”
Around them, her family cheered gently for the baby, and Rosie blinked at them all as she unsteadily righted herself.
Gabriel extended his hands towards her. “Come to me, sweet girl,” he encouraged. “Come on over here, can you do that? Can you take those few steps for me?”
He kneeled, still holding out his arms to either catch Rosie or scoop her up when she made it to him.
Hesitantly, Rosie took one step, then another, then another. A giggle bubbled from her tiny mouth as she waddled over to him, clumsy and heavy-footed but successful.
Sibyl wept a little while Gabriel kept encouraging their daughter.
Rosie giggled again, her fingers clenching and unclenching. “Papa!”
“That is right,” Gabriel half laughed, half cried. “Come to Papa.”
Finally, Rosie stumbled into his arms, and he lifted her high in the air, kissing her cheek.
“Oh, my Rosie,” he cooed. “I am so, so proud of you. We shall have you sprinting through the manor in no time.” He glanced at Sibyl, pulling a face. “Or perhaps not. Not if you are a little terror and run away from us, rather than to us.”
Sibyl laughed as she wrapped her arms around them both, holding her family tightly.
“What did I miss? I heard a commotion,” Alicia’s voice came from the doorway, a scowl on her face as she stepped away from Nicholas.
“Rosie took her first steps!” Sibyl exclaimed.
“Ah.” Alicia smiled brightly, but it was clear she did not see the appeal. “Very good, Rosie.”
Nicholas snorted behind her, before coughing to cover it up. “You don’t like children?”
“I prefer dogs,” Alicia snapped, stalking away from him. As she approached Sibyl, she muttered, “That man is the most infuriating person I have ever known, and I cannot bear to be within two feet of him.”
Sibyl only laughed, holding her sister’s hand. But she noticed how Alicia’s eyes flicked back to Nicholas, how a blush bloomed in her cheeks, before her scowl returned when he grinned at her.
“All I said,” he called out, “was that you should not snoop.”
“And as I said, it is none of your business what I do.”
“Did you even get the lemonade?” Charles sighed next to Hermia, and they all laughed.
“I am certain the Marquess can be so kind,” Alicia said drily. “Seeing as he likes to look for things that are apparently missing.”
“That does not make any sense, Lady Alicia.” Nicholas exhaled, shaking his head. “Regardless, do join me in finishing your task.”
“No.”
Alicia whirled away, and he smiled again.
Sibyl remained steadfast in her opinion. The two would challenge one another, and they would have a very exciting life if it went anywhere.
Gabriel caught her eye, cocking his head as he rocked Rosie. “Is it just me, or might they make a good… Oh.”
Sibyl laughed, kissing his cheek. “And now you know what my plans were,” she whispered.
“Oh, you are good.”
When Nicholas finally returned, he braced his elbows on the back of Gabriel’s chair once more.
“As much as the crowd at the King’s Hound misses you, I do enjoy seeing you like this,” he admitted.
Gabriel arched an eyebrow, smiling a little. Sibyl noticed that he did it more often now. Her heart softened at the comment.
“I like it. You are settled, and you are happy. You are allowing yourself the life you thought you could never have. Preston is gone now, his punishment and trial settled. The papers have moved on, and so has the ton. Now, they are digging into Lady Heckley’s scandalous rendezvous with Lord Boroughdon. They are both wed otherwise.”
“I heard about that!” Hermia spoke up. “I thought it was ever so juicy and—what?” She frowned at Charles.
“Since we had our fair share of scandals, you of all people should not be calling somebody else’s misfortune juicy.”
Hermia flushed, waving him away.
“Nevertheless,” Nicholas laughed, returning his focus to Gabriel. “As I once told you, your fight no longer belongs in the ring, but at home, to keep what you have and never let it go.”
“I have no such intentions.” Gabriel’s eyes were soft as he looked back at Sibyl and took her hand. She moved closer to him, nuzzling into his bicep. “I do not need to box anymore.”
“No,” she agreed. “And if you ever feel that urge—”
“I find my beautiful wife and speak my mind.”
“Exactly.” Sibyl kissed him lightly.
Gabriel wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her closer.
Isabella’s and Oscar’s heads were bent close together, Oscar’s hand resting on her stomach. The sight was so heartwarming that Sibyl ached to be swollen with her next child. Still, she consoled herself with the fact that she only had to wait for a few months.
They had only recently learned that she was with child, and Gabriel planned to announce it that afternoon.
She could not help but notice how Alicia was studying Nicholas, as if his remark to Gabriel had confused her—as if she had thought him incapable of such depth. She caught her sister’s eye and raised an eyebrow, but neither said anything.
Once the lemonade was finally brought out, Gabriel lifted his glass. “Sibyl and I have an announcement to make.”
Sibyl stood up, Rosie now in her arms. All eyes turned to them.
“We are expecting our second child,” she announced.
“Well, our second, but my first.” Gabriel laughed. “But Rosie is still mine, regardless of blood.”
Sibyl’s family burst into cheers and congratulations, and she was immediately wrapped in their embraces. Gabriel exchanged handshakes with Charles and Oscar, who had grown to respect him after he and Sibyl reconciled.
Soon, the party settled down.
Sibyl sighed, tired and happy, watching as the sun began to lower in the sky. Her family soon left, and Hannah took Rosie to bed. Gabriel’s arms wrapped around her from behind, his beard tickling her neck.
“My Duchess,” he murmured, “your Duke would like to request your presence in his chamber.”
He laughed softly against her neck as she turned around. “Well, how can one ever refuse such a formal request?”
“Forget it, I want to have you right here.” He pressed a hard kiss to her jaw. “I’ve been aching for you all day. This gown… it complements your decolletage beautifully, and I think you know that, and it is driving me half mad.”
“Then take me to your chambers,” Sibyl urged. “Lift me into your arms, husband, and carry me there.”
“As my wife demands.”
He grinned at her before scooping her up as if she were as light as a feather.
Sibyl’s breath caught, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. He carried her through Stonehelm Hall, peppering kisses up and down her neck, one hand already teasing her over her dress.
“Gabriel,” she giggled. “The servants!”
“I do not care what they see,” he told her.
“I am in love with my wife, and she is expecting my child, and I cannot stop picturing you splayed out beneath me. I might just keep you in my bed while you are pregnant. There to lavish attention on you, to love you and care for you, and ensure you do not have to lift a single finger.”
“That all sounds very lovely,” Sibyl purred. “Will you press me into your sheets nightly? Daily?”
“Both,” Gabriel said against her mouth. “Forever both, my Duchess.”
Once they were in his chamber, he didn’t release her, not until he lay down with her astride him.
“I thought I was not going to lift a finger,” Sibyl smirked. “From this position, I will be doing a great deal of—”
Gabriel lifted his hips into her, as if in silent protest. “Will you? The way I see it is that I get to admire you fully from down here. I can still do the work, all while you are on top of me, being your beautiful self. Yes?”
“Yes,” Sibyl giggled, leaning down to cup his face in her hands and kiss him deeply. “Heavens, I love you.”
Her hands were already tugging at his breeches, while his tore at her dress and kneaded her breasts.
“I love you, Sibyl,” he murmured, smiling.
Sibyl had always doubted herself—her worth, her intelligence, her looks—yet how could she still do that when she was admired like this? Gabriel looked at her as though she were his entire world. And not for the first time, she believed it.
Soon, their clothes were discarded, their bodies bare, and then Gabriel was inside her, this angle allowing him to push even deeper into her.
Sibyl gasped, for she could never get used to his size, no matter how many times they coupled. She adored it—she lived for it. As he filled her up, her breath shuddered out of her, her eyes closing.
“No, no,” Gabriel murmured, pressing a thumb to her lip. “Keep those pretty eyes open for me, Sibyl. Keep your eyes on me.”
“And yet you pleasure me so much I cannot help it,” she moaned breathlessly, rocking her hips.
Gabriel held her hips still, only moving his own. He arched an eyebrow at her as if to say, What did I say?
Sibyl swallowed, her need rising. “You are purposefully teasing me.”
“I would do no such thing.” He groaned as he moved inside her. “But if you do not let me do the work, then I shall simply roll you onto your back.”
Sibyl bit her lip and shifted her hips.
Gabriel gave a low growl before rolling her onto her back. He pinned her arms above her head, looming over her.
“You keep disobeying me.” He bit her shoulder gently. “Duchess.”
“You love it.” Sibyl pulled him down for a bruising kiss, her tongue sliding against his.
“I do.”
And then their bodies were moving in tandem, his hips rocking into hers, his face buried in her breasts, his noises of pleasure mingling with her own.
Together, they rode their highs, with Sibyl’s fingers clawing at his back once he released her wrists. His hands held her hips, pulling her to him with every thrust.
Eventually, his grip tightened on her hips, and he thrust harder into her, driving them both towards climax. Sibyl’s head spun with the pleasure, her eyes fluttering shut.
Gabriel collapsed next to her and pulled her into his arms. “Was it too rough?”
“It was perfect,” she breathed, opening her eyes again to gaze up at him. “You are perfect.”
“I think you are mistaken, for you are perfect.” He kissed the words onto her clavicle, working his way up her neck to her mouth. “You are perfect, Sibyl. My Sibyl.”
The End?