Epilogue
“ W e have to stop for the night,” Leah said. It was getting dark, and they had been on the road for many hours now. She was exhausted, dirty, still caked and mud, and sweaty. She knew she must look a horrible mess, and she was in desperate need of a bath.
“We will not be stopping for the night,” Dubois said, not bothering to look at her from where he sat across from her. “We will go straight through to Scotland.”
“You cannot be serious,” she said. The incredulity in her voice made him look up at last, and he frowned at her.
“As you can imagine, we do not have much time,” he snapped. “We must get married before anything can stop it.”
“And then what?” she asked.
“What do you mean? We will be married.”
“And what kind of marriage will that be, exactly?” She raised her eyebrows at him. “You have not thought this through, My Lord. You think you can just kidnap me and take me to the border, and that I will just fall in line after we are married. Have you even thought about the fact that every day married to me will be a living hell?”
“You will fall in line,” he snapped. “As all ladies do.”
“Do they?” She scoffed. “Or will every day of our marriage make you wish that you had never forged that document to begin with? I will scream, I will cry, I will be cruel to you, and I will certainly not bear you children.”
“It is your duty to do so,” he said, his eyebrows knitting together.
“But I will not, and I will make having me as your wife so difficult that you will long for the death that you seem to think awaits you in the near future.”
Dubois folded his arms. “What is your point? That if we stop for the night you will become a pliable bride?”
“My point is that you cannot treat me like an animal, to be bought and sold and tied up in a carriage, and then expect us to have anything other than a horrendous marriage! You have to make compromises. You have to treat me like a woman--like a human being. And right now, what I need is to stop for the night, bathe, and put on a clean dress. This is your duty as well, as my future husband. Do you really want me to wed you in a muddy gown with dirt all over my face?”
Dubois said nothing for a long moment. She could almost see him calculating the pros and cons in his mind. At last, he said, “If I allow us to stop for the night, then you must promise me that you will be less antagonistic towards me. In truth, it is becoming very weary.”
Leah had to do everything within her power to point out that kidnapping someone is the last thing you should do if you don’t want them to be antagonistic toward you. But she didn’t. If it made him stop for the night, she would say whatever he wanted.
“Fine,” she conceded, and he raised an eyebrow.
“I said less antagonistic,” he said.
She took a deep, steadying breath. “Alright,” she said, more calmly. “I will be less antagonistic toward you if we can stop for the night.”
Dubois watched her for a moment, then nodded. “But you must also promise not to run away.”
“How would I run away?” she pointed out. “This is your carriage and driver. We are in the middle of nowhere. I’d have nowhere to go.”
He nodded again, then let out a small sigh, and she got the impression that he was also tired and eager for a warm bed to sleep in. After all, he was an old man, and traveling through the night could not be easy for him.
“Brandon!” He thumped on the roof. “The next inn we pass, we stop at.”
It didn’t take long for them to reach one. At last, Leah felt the carriage slowing down, and then it came to a halt altogether.
“You have to untie me,” she said, looking across at Dubois, who was looking out the window at the small, nondescript inn they had stopped in front of. “They will be suspicious if they see a bound woman brought into an inn.”
Dubois glared at her. “Fine, but again, if you try to run, I will not hesitate to shoot. I have nothing to lose, after all.”
She swallowed and nodded, and he began to untie her. Every time his fingers accidentally touched her, she felt her revulsion and anger grow. But she didn’t dare do anything--not yet.
Finally, she was fully untied. She stretched, letting the feeling come back into her arms and hands, then she followed Lord Dubois out of the carriage and up to the front of the inn. Inside, they found an innkeep sweeping the hall.
“We need two rooms,” Dubois grunted. “And my daughter would also like a hot bath.”
“Very good, milord,” the innkeep said, moving away to the counter to retrieve several keys.
“Your daughter?” Leah asked, raising her eyebrows.
Dubois ignored her, but she knew why he’d said this: it would raise fewer suspicions, and if Dorian came by the inn and demanded to see the ledger, he wouldn’t be as suspicious to see a gentleman travelling with his daughter. Indeed, Dubois wrote a fake name in the ledger. But it didn’t matter. Leah had seen horses in the stable. She had another plan for herself.
After a quick bath, she dressed in a gown that Dubois had asked to buy from the innkeep’s wife--it was made of an itchy material and of very poor quality, but it would do for now--and then came back downstairs to the dining room for her supper. The innkeep had set out a stew for them, and she sat down across from Dubois, who was already eating.
“Brandon is outside,” he said as she sat down. “He will make sure you do not run. And tonight, your door will be bolted.”
Leah nodded. She picked up her spoon, and then, when Dubois wasn’t looking, slipped the knife next to her plate into her lap.
“Before we reach Scotland I will stop in a village and buy you a nicer gown,” Dubois said after a moment. “You are right: you should look the part when you marry me. I will concede to your wishes in that regard.”
“Thank you,” Leah said, inclining her head. “I appreciate that very much.”
Dubois looked far too pleased with herself, but that was a good thing: anything to lull him into a false sense of security. They ate the meal in silence. When Leah was done, she set down her spoon, then let her hand drop to her lap, holding the knife in the folds of her skirt.
“May I go to bed?” she asked.
“You may. And don’t forget: if you try to run, Brandon is right outside, watching.”
Leah nodded. She stood, pushed in her hair, and then moved around the table, so that she would have to pass behind him. He scooted in his own chair to let her pass, and right as she passed behind him, she pulled out the knife. In one swift movement, she brought it to his neck and pressed the blade into his skin.
“What are you--” he began, but she pressed it in harder, drawing blood, and he stopped speaking at once.
“Don’t speak,” she whispered, grabbing his hair at the same time and forcing his head back, exposing his neck even more. “Is the gun there, in your pocket?”
Very slowly, the knife still pressed into his neck, Dubois nodded. She could see his eyes bugging out of his head, the fear in them palpable, but she didn’t care.
“If you move to grab it, I will kill you.” She had never thought she would say these words, but she had also never been so sure in her life that they were true. “Is that understood?”
Again, he nodded. Keeping the knife pressed into his neck, she reached down with her other hand and pulled the gun out of his pocket.
Releasing him, she moved away quickly, raising the gun and pointing it right at him. Their eyes met, and the shock and fury in his face was almost enough to make her hesitate.
Almost.
“I am leaving now,” she said, “and if you follow me outside, I will shoot Brandon, and then I will shoot you. Understand?”
“You don’t have the guts,” he snarled. There was a drop of blood on his neck, and the sight of it gave Leah strength.
“Oh, I have the guts,” she said, smiling wildly at him. “Go on and test me--but on your head be it.”
Dubois didn’t move. She reached behind her with one hand and felt for the door handle. “Scream and you die,” she said. “Do anything to alert Brandon and you die.”
She found the door handle and pushed it open. Freedom was seconds away. She bolted .
She ran as fast as she could. Down the corridor. Down the next. Then there was the front door. From there, she kicked it open, and she was out in the night.
Brandon was sitting nearby on a stump, eating a bowl of stew. He looked up as she came out, his eyes going wide at the sight of her holding the gun. She raised it high and pointed it at him.
“Run!” She shouted. “Run or I shoot.”
He was on his feet in seconds, sprinting away into the darkness. And then she was running, full speed ahead, toward the stables. Her legs were moving so fast that they felt as if they were filled with fire. She didn’t even need to saddle a horse. As long as she could just get on one, she could ride astride, as fast as she could, until she found help.
There was a shout behind her from the inn, and she realized with a jolt that Dubois was following.
I guess he’s willing to risk death to marry me.
She skidded around the corner of the inn, hurling herself toward the stables, and then collided head-first with someone. Someone standing right in front of the stables, holding the bridle of a horse. Someone tall and solid, who grabbed her by both arms, even as the dizziness of the collision filled her, and kept her upright, steadying her.
She blinked and looked up at the man she had run headlong into.
It was her husband. It was Dorian.
“Leah,” he breathed, his mouth falling open, and a dark, wild look coming into his eyes. “Leah, it’s you. And…” he stared down at the gun she was holding. “Where did you get that?”
“Dubois is here!” She cried, unable to linger on her shock. “He’s right behind me.”
Dorian’s face immediately became a mask of fury. “Get behind me,” he commanded. “And give me the gun.”
She handed it to him without argument and then threw herself behind him--and just in time. Seconds later, Dubois came hurtling around the corner.
And Dorian didn’t hesitate. The moment Dubois appeared, he raised his fist and hit him, with seemingly all his might, right in the face.
Dubois let out a shout of pain and then fell back, his face coming to his nose as blood began to spurt from it.
“How dare you!” Dorian roared. “How dare you kidnap my wife! How dare you try and falsify my very marriage ! How dare you lay a hand on her!”
Dorian raised his hand again and punched Dubois in the stomach, then in the throat. The man let out a gargled scream, his face already covered in blood. Leah gasped, shocked by what she was seeing. She had never imagined Dorian to be capable of such violence, but he was relentless as he threw himself on Dubois and began to beat him with mindless fury.
“Dorian, stop!” she cried, rushing forward. “You’re going to kill him!”
Dorian didn’t seem to hear her. He raised the hand that was holding the gun, and she realized that he was going to hit Dubois with the handle--the metal handle that would surely kill the old man cowering on the ground before Dorian. At once, she reached forward and laid her hands on her husband's arms. Dorian froze. Then, very slowly, he turned to look at her. His eyes had a wild mania in them she had never seen before, and she shuddered. He looked like the man in the portrait in his study; he looked like his father.
“Don’t do this,” she whispered, her eyes trained right on his. “Don’t kill him. Don’t be like your father. We will call the constables and get him locked up. Everything will be well. We are together again.” She was speaking softly, as tenderly as she could, and at last, Dorian lowered the gun.
“You’re right,” he grunted, and the wild mania began to leak from his eyes. “I’m sorry.” He touched her face then, with the hand not holding the gun, which was bloody from where he’d hit Dubois. But she didn’t flinch away. “I’m so sorry, Leah.”
There was a commotion behind them and the innkeep turned the corner. He gasped when he saw Dubois, crumpled in a heap on the ground.
“Call the constable,” Dorian commanded him. “This man has attempted to kidnap my wife.”
“Y-yes, right away,” the innkeep said, glancing curiously at Dorian and Leah. He must have spotted the livery on the horse behind Dorian because he then added, “Your Grace.”
Dorian turned to Leah as the man hurried away, his eyes sweeping over her, lingering on the rope marks on her wrists. “Are you alright?” he murmured. “Did he hurt you?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “And I was going to get away. But you… you found me.”
“Of course I found you,” he murmured. “I followed your clues. The gloves… it was brilliant.”
“How did you know to stop here?” she asked.
“I didn’t. I’ve been stopping at every inn I pass, just to check. I’m just so glad I got here in time.”
“So am I,” she whispered, and she leaned her head against his chest. “Can we go home, Dorian? I want to go home.”
“Of course,” he murmured, and he wrapped his arms around her. “I will take you home.”
“Leah! You’re safe!” The moment Leah walked in through the door of Nottington Castle’s parlor, her sisters all leapt to their feet. Lucien and his friend the Duke of Cresswell were also there, and both of them also hurried forward at the sight of her. It was Celeste who reached her first, and who wrapped her arms around her sister and hugged her so tightly Leah almost couldn’t breathe.
“I’m safe,” Leah whispered into her sister’s neck. “And I’m home.” Eve and then Emery also took turns hugging her, then Lucien, who looked so relieved she even saw tears in his eyes.
“I went to Dubois’s estate to find you,” Lucien explained, as he released her. “When he wasn’t there, I came back here to wait. I can’t believe it… Dorian rescued you.”
“Yes, she did,” Leah said, glancing back over at her husband, who stood, hovering in the doorway, an unreadable look on his face. “Dubois was taking me to Scotland, but I managed to escape, only to run right into Dorian, who made sure Dubois wouldn’t be a problem anymore.”
“I had him arrested,” Dorian said from the doorway. “He will be remanded into the custody of the Bow Street Runners, and hopefully he will spend the rest of his life behind bars.”
“Thank God,” Lucien muttered. “And you are well, Leah? He didn’t hurt you?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head.
“You must tell us what happened,” Eve said, her eyes wide. “How did he kidnap you?”
“I will tell you everything,” Leah promised, “but first I would like a moment to speak with my husband.”
Her eyes flickered to Dorian, then back to her sisters. They all looked unsurprised, and each of them nodded.
“Of course,” Emery said. “We will give you some privacy.” And they all filed out of the parlor, leaving Leah and Dorian alone together.
There hadn’t been a chance to talk yet. Between the constables arriving, explaining what had happened, and then the ride back to Nottington Castle atop Dorian’s horse, with Leah holding on behind him, they hadn’t been able to truly speak yet. And Leah needed to speak to him.
Dorian looked nervous. As he moved further into the room, his eyes darted around anxiously, and he kept looking at her in a way she didn’t fully understand.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice very soft. Dorian’s eyes snapped to hers.
“I can’t believe I almost lost you today,” he said. “That you were almost taken from me.”
“You already had lost me,” she pointed out, her body stiff and her voice cool. “You pushed me away, when all I wanted to give you was love.”
“I know,” he said, and he took a step closer to her. “And I am so sorry, Leah. I cannot apologize enough for how I acted. When I heard you were missing, I completely lost my mind. I couldn’t stand the idea of any harm coming to you, and I knew, with every fiber of my being, that if I got another chance with you, I wouldn’t waste it.” He took another step forward. He was now only a few steps from her, his eyes burning with regret. And hope. “But even before that, I had come to realize my error in pushing you away. I was about to ride here and tell you when my solicitor showed me the fake annulment papers. It took me far too long to realize, but the vow I made to my father was a mistake. Pushing you away was a mistake. Ever letting my past dictate my future happiness… It was all a mistake.”
He took another step forward, then another, until he was standing right in front of her.
“I want to be with you more than anything on this earth,” he murmured, and his voice moved through her like flames, heat and light coursing through her at the sound. Her body seemed to hum as she stared up at him. “I wasn’t letting myself be with you to punish myself, but it was foolish and cruel to both of us--and especially to you. When I realized Dubois had taken you, it was the moment when I knew I would do anything to give you the life you want.”
He took a deep breath. “So if you want to be alone, now that Dubois is arrested, if you want to find a different man, a better man, then I will grant you an annulment. But if you are willing to give me a second chance, then I promise I will not waste it. I will do everything I can to earn you, to prove my love for you, and to make up for my mistakes.”
Leah couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think straight. The humming was stronger now. Everything in her body yearned for him, yearned to throw her arms around him, to tell him she forgave him. But she had to know.
“I want a family,” she whispered, “but I want you worse. If that’s not what you want…”
“Of course it’s what I want,” he said, and he laughed as he said it. “Leah, I was scared. But you make me brave. I want you to have my sons, to raise daughters with you, to grow old with you surrounded by our family. It is all I want in the world. You are the love of my life, and I want everything with you.”
“Oh, Dorian…” She could hold herself back no longer. Just as she had done in the garden all those weeks ago, she stood up on her toes, threw her arms around his shoulders, and kissed him as if her life depended on it. And just like then, he seemed surprised by the kiss.
Surprised and delighted. M oments later, his arms seized her, and he pulled her more tightly against her, kissing her with the most ravenous passion she could ever have imagined.
“Never again,” he whispered, as he continued to kiss her along her lips, her jaw, her nose, even her eyes. “I will never let you go again.”
And she believed him. At long last, she felt certain that he wasn’t hiding anything from her or deciding anything for her. She was choosing the life of love she wanted, and best of all, he was choosing it as well.
EPILOGUE
“He is so beautiful!” Leah sighed, as she gazed at the infant in his mother’s arms, all dressed in the long white christening gown. “Congratulations again, Emery.”
She wrenched her eyes away from the little baby boy to glance up at her sister-in-law, who was beaming at her as she waited in the foyer of the chapel for the christening to get started.
“Thank you, Leah,” she said. “Lucien and I are so happy.”
It was only the second time Leah was meeting the boy. It had been a long, difficult delivery, and Emery had been too exhausted after to receive visitors, but she now seemed more than well: she seemed to be the happiest Leah had ever seen her. Lucien, too, couldn’t stop smiling, as he joined his wife and put an arm around her.
“How’s our boy doing?” he asked, reaching down and stroking the child’s cheek.
“He’s doing very well,” Emery said. “He hasn’t been fussy at all.”
“We should really go in,” Dorian said, joining the three of them in front of the doors and touching Leah on the arm. “It’s about to begin.”
“Of course,” she said, nodding at her sister-in-law and brother. “I’ll see you in there.”
She allowed Dorian to take her arm and lead her into the chapel, where her sisters were already seated in the front pews. The Duke of Cresswell was also there, but otherwise it was a small affair.
“The baby is so cute,” she whispered to Dorian, her heart overflowing with love as she thought back to how adorable her nephew had looked in his christening gown.
“Very much ,” Dorian agreed, “although not as charming as our future children will be.”
“Shhh, don’t say that!” she chided, even as she blushed furiously. “You can’t say that in a church!”
“I’ll say whatever I want,” Dorian said, smiling mischievously. “And I’ll do whatever I want.”
And as soon as they sat down in the pew behind her sisters, he stole a kiss from her--a short peck on the lips, although it still made her gasp. In church! The nerve of him!
“You are incorrigible,” she muttered, as her cheeks burned. “Forever the rake!”
“Only for my wife,” he said with a wink, then sighed. “Truthfully, I just want this to be over so that we can return home.”
“Why?” she asked, a little affronted. He grinned at her, then leaned close to her ear.
“Because,” he murmured, “I just want you all to myself. We should be working on making our own babies right now.”
If she’d thought her cheeks had burned before, it was nothing to what they did now--she flushed so furiously she thought she’d catch on fire.
However, she was too head-over-heels in love not to play along. Moving her own lips to his ears, she whispered, “We’ve certainly been trying hard enough over the last few months.”
He laughed--throatily and loudly--earning him a reproving look from the vicar, and he quickly silenced himself. At the same time, his hand found hers, and he squeezed it tight.
“I love you so much,” he whispered, and she was gratified to see the tears in his eyes. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
They were very lucky, she reflected, as the music started and the doors opened, Emery and Lucien entering holding their baby. Lord Dubois was behind bars. Along with kidnapping her, his crimes of forgery had been revealed, and it turned out he’d duped almost the entire ton , all of whom were now united against him. On top of that, her family was well and happy, she had a new nephew, and she had a feeling that her and Dorian’s efforts would soon pay off. She had not had her courses as expected last week. But she was waiting to tell him until after the christening.
Life had worked out better than she could ever have expected, and she knew not a moment would go by when she wouldn’t feel grateful for it.
“I love you too,” she whispered back to her husband, and she rested her head on his shoulder, joy filling up every inch of her. Somehow, against all the odds, through all the obstacles, she had found her love match. And she would never let him go.
The End?