Epilogue
Epilogue
Where a fantastically happy couple make big decisions
Ten Months Later
Derbyshire
Franny took a step back, tilting her head and squinting. “I think the darker shade works. Kat wanted a color close to a bluebell. This is close to a bluebell, isn’t it?”
Chance lowered the paintbrush, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. “Hmm…”
Her stomach clenched, heat traveling directly to its chosen spot between her thighs.
Her gaze roved the length of her husband and back.
Light hit him just so, perfect for sketching if she’d had her supplies handy.
He was dressed for the country in a pair of form-fitting buckskins and a worn linen shirt that clung deliciously to his shoulders and back.
Wellingtons polished to a high gloss. He’d been working around the estate the past year, and his body had gotten more muscular if that was possible.
Her need grew with every moment she spent with him.
Her love. They were trying for a baby. Still newlyweds, in a sense.
Chance had returned from London this morning, so they’d not been able to try for five nights.
The longest they’d ever gone. “I suppose it works,” he said, so earnest it made her heart ache.
“But we could try the lighter, too. Or maybe use it on the window frames.”
Their adopted daughter, Kat, wanted a blue bedchamber for her seventh birthday.
They’d decided to redecorate as a surprise while she spent the day shopping in the village with Ada.
Chance had picked the task over the quick romp they both desperately desired, which made Franny love him more.
He placed his family’s happiness above everything else.
Above his own. Adoration he freely showed his girls every day.
“Wait until she finds out about the kitten. I can’t wait to give him to her.”
“You’re spoiling her, Remy.”
Shrugging happily, he tapped the windowpane with his brush. His gaze tracked a man galloping a black bay across the fields. “Why is Xander Macauley here again?”
Franny came to stand beside him, snaking her arm through his and leaning into his side.
He turned slightly to kiss the crown of her head.
He smelled wonderful. Leather and the crisp scent of wood, scents that were Chance’s own.
His furniture was selling like mad, although the ton still had no idea Viscount Remington had a side business.
He’d yet to have a desk placed in Carlton House, though the king had expressed interest in having one at Windsor Castle, which Franny assured Chance was even better.
“He’s having woman troubles, or so he implied. Who was the last one? An actress?”
“Opera singer. Italian, I believe,” Chance murmured, drawing his wife close and nuzzling the side of her neck. “Coincidental timing, isn’t it? When the Duke of Leighton, his new duchess, and sisters are arriving tomorrow. And Arthur, finally, has agreed to stay until the summer.”
Franny watched Macauley halt his mount and slide from the saddle, a towering beast of a man.
She liked him. He was genuine in a sea of pretenders.
Rough around the edges, cynical, demanding.
But he’d been a good friend. A sound business partner to her husband.
He had love in his eyes waiting to be unleashed.
“What does Leighton coming to pay a visit have to do with Xander Macauley? ”
Chance chuckled, a sly ripple of sound. He and Macauley were constantly trying to one-up each other.
Wagers on billiards, hunting, hazard. Fisticuffs on the lawn.
Fencing in the ballroom. Pushes and shoves and outright brawls.
It seemed almost brotherly in nature. “He’s got his eye on Lady Philippa, though he wishes like hell he didn’t.
I’m going to seat her right next to him at dinner and watch him squirm. ”
Franny’s lips parted, a gasp shooting free. This was news. “Pippa? Leighton’s little sister?” She eyed Macauley as he led the horse toward a stable they’d just outfitted with a new roof.
The ton would accept Macauley pilfering their ducal coffers about as well as they’d accepted Franny plundering this viscountcy.
Society didn’t call her the American Enchantress with great affection.
“Will the Duchess Society clean him up? Straighten him out? Leighton would never let him marry her as his reputation stands.”
Chance tossed the brush into the bucket by his feet and swept her into his arms, his lips seizing hers.
My , the man could kiss. “Oh, my na?ve darling. Desire isn’t love.
He’ll never tell a soul, make an offer, or a move.
But he watches her whenever she’s in the room.
Every time she’s in the room. I can’t believe Leighton hasn’t seen it.
But when he does, he’ll knock Macauley flat on his arse. ”
“Let’s seat them next to each other, let’s do. I want to watch what happens.”
“That’s my girl,” he said and kissed his way down her jaw. “Later, after Kat is in bed, you could meet me at my workshop at the edge of the woodland. You can scream as loudly as you’d like. And you know, I’ll do anything you ask.”
She sighed, her head dropping back. “I did terribly like that one thing you tried the other night. With your fingers and your tongue.”
“Done,” he whispered against her neck.
“I’m happy, Chance.” Dipping her head, she burrowed against his chest. “You’ve made me happy for the first time. I never want to leave you, even for one night. I’m going to London next time. Five days apart was too much.”
Chance pulled back until she could see his face.
He liked to look into her eyes when he told her he loved her.
“Francine Allerton, you’re the light of my existence.
You and Kat. And now that orange scrap of a kitten.
I give thanks every night that you came into my life.
You know that, don’t you? I feel lucky . To the ends of the earth lucky.”
She pressed her cheek against the warmth of his chest, his heart beating beneath her ear. “So, you’ll sit for me this weekend? I want to try out the oils this time. I’ve been practicing.”
Chance brought her close with a kiss. “My darling viscountess, I’m your subject for life.”
THE END
Thank you for reading The Governess Gamble !
Have you read all books in the series, including the other Christmas novella The Daring Debutante ?
Make sure to check them all out! Start with The Brazen Bluestocking where it all began..
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