Epilogue
Richard urged her to a chair while the army chaplain calmly covered the date with one hand and invited the witnesses, two local clerks in the army headquarters, over to sign. Obscure witnesses, they were unlikely to speak about it to anyone in London.
Lily glanced back at Andrew and Will sitting patiently in the rear of the garrison chapel.
They would carry back to London the vaguely worded fiction that Lily and Richard met in Gibraltar in June, implying they married before embarking on their great “adventure.” Richard insisted it was almost true—a common law marriage at least—if only to spare his friends the burden of lying.
The two friends would leave in the morning, but Richard and Lily would stay for a few months to give Zambak time to flourish—and to make her age less likely to be questioned. As always, he had arranged life neatly to his own satisfaction. No one would dare question him.
A brief flame of resentment, quickly snuffed, flared through her. He is, of course, quite correct, as always—damn it. Still, Lily couldn’t fault her new husband for his determination to protect their daughter, and, she admitted, Lily herself.
She glanced down at the dress Richard had conjured for the wedding, beautiful for all it was locally woven in bright colors with Spanish, or perhaps Portuguese, motifs.
He even located a nosegay of flowers somewhere on this barren rock, a thoughtful touch she never expected.
She’d come to appreciate his drive to protect, even if it was heavy handed.
On that thought, she let out a yelp when her husband lifted her up into his arms without a by-your-leave. “I can walk! I’m not ill,” she protested.
With a nod at the smug (and probably richer) chaplain, he carried her out the door, their friends following. “I’m sorry,” he murmured in her ear. He didn’t even choke on the words he so rarely said.
“For carrying me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Whatever for, then?”
“I know it wasn’t the wedding of a woman’s dreams,” he said.
Will hurried past to chase a pair of monkeys off the donkey cart that had carried her out of town to the garrison.
“I didn’t even give you the King’s Chapel at the governor’s house,” Richard went on, lifting her into the cart, wrapping the soft red cloak he’d bought around her, and pulling her into his arms. Andrew hauled himself into the driver’s seat with his formidable upper body strength. Will climbed up after him.
“You’ve done well by our daughter. I’m content,” Lily said, her eyes only for Richard.
He paused, and the relief in his glance startled her. He dropped his head for a brief kiss as they clattered down the hill toward The Convent, as the governor of Gibraltar’s residence was called.
“I’ll make sure you are celebrated with a grand ball once we return to London,” he said. “We’ll place an announcement in the papers: ‘The Marquess of Glenaire has returned, having married Miss Lilias Thornton while abroad during the previous year.’”
“Do we have to?” she moaned.
“The ball or the announcement? It is true enough.”
“The ballroom will be full of inquisitive eyes and cutting conversation.” she shuddered.
“Nonsense. We’ll give them the Hayden family glare. It will stop them in their tracks.” He swallowed. “Even my parents won’t dare.”
“We’ll invite them?”
“Of course. Short of illness, they have no way to refuse, even when we invite Georgiana and Andrew.”
Will turned from his seat in front of them and cut in. “You’re a brave man, Glenaire.”
Richard gave him a haughty glare down his aristocratic nose.
“That doesn’t work with me, remember?” Will chuckled. “I suppose there is no arrangement for a wedding breakfast, either.” They hadn’t even told the governor the purpose of their errand. The less, Richard dictated, that the governor knew, the better.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m anxious to get to my daughter.
It will be time to feed her shortly,” Lily said.
Her determination to feed her baby herself was the one war she had won with Richard.
He announced he had found a wet nurse, and Lily put her foot down.
She judged that he’d come to appreciate it because he certainly enjoyed sitting with her when she did.
“I did suggest to the kitchen staff that the marchioness would be making her first appearance at dinner and they might want to be sure the occasion was marked with their best. I expect they will present a celebratory feast tonight,” Richard said, his smug grin telling her that he would guarantee it.
Andrew’s crooked smile was rueful. “I think you’ll find my brother-in-law has his own way to care for those he loves, Lily, even if he stumbles. He had little training when he was young.”
Richard growled, but Lily smiled back and snuggled against Richard’s shoulder. She didn’t object when he carried her up to the nursery.
Deep in the night, Richard took his daughter, sated from feeding, from her sleepy mother’s arms. He raised the coverlet and tucked it around Lily as her eyelids fluttered closed.
His wife. Wife. The word lodged itself, solid and steady, in his heart.
His brave and brilliant, strong and stubborn wife.
For all the fear and uncertainty they had lived through, he wouldn’t change anything. He had found his perfect partner.
When the mite in his arms squeaked, objecting to his hold, he settled her more gently. This one would be just like her mother.
Moments later a groggy nursery maid handed the baby bundled in a soft shawl with clean gown and nappies back to him.
Changing her was a bridge too far for the marquess, but he would rock her back to sleep before returning her to her cot.
His father would sneer, and his mother would shake her head in horror.
He thanked the Lord, Lily, and his sister Georgie for showing him the difference.
The next morning, he gave in when Lily insisted on walking to the docks to see their friends off home. He owed them more than he could ever repay. Money was the least of it. That they both respected and cared for Lily was another thing on their side of the ledger.
“Enjoy your time here, Lily. See if you can locate a baby cart so you can take the little one along while you enjoy the sea and explore The Rock,” Will suggested, indicating the great cliffs above them with a gesture of his head. “The views are spectacular.”
“We would look like a gypsy caravan,” Richard grumbled with a shake of his head.
Will kissed Lily’s cheek. “Do it anyway,” he whispered.
Andrew laughed, hugged Lily, and stunned them all by hugging Richard before he could object. “I can’t wait to entertain Georgiana with the stories I have to tell.”
“God help me,” Richard shuddered. “You could make better use of your time, by seeing what you can find out about Jamie.” The fourth of their band of friends, Jamie Heyworth, had been missing for weeks before Richard left England.
Andrew winked at Lily. “I am sure you already have your minions on that task, but we’ll see.” He followed Will up the gangplank.
Richard and Lily stood shoulder to shoulder and watched until the ship moved to the mouth of the harbor. The packet would have them to England as swiftly as it was possible to get there.
“Will was right,” he said suddenly.
She looked up expectantly.
“We have time to explore the entire peninsula, you and I. No pressure, no prying eyes.” He turned to study her expression, uncertainty gripping him.
“I thought you were going to write reports on shipping, defensive preparations, and so on,” she murmured.
“I’ll scribble something to pacify the foreign minister, but England can manage without me for a while. There’s little here to get between us or distress us. Let’s use this interlude of peace as a sort of honeymoon.”
Her beautiful eyes held his, unwavering, and his tension eased. “Yes. Together. As a family.”
His entire being seemed to melt. For once the marble marquess was beyond words. He did the only thing he could. He kissed his wife, reveling in her response, oblivious to staring eyes.