Epilogue
“Could one commit murder with a reticule? Perhaps with a very good whack?”
Wolf’s lips twitched as he regarded the petite blind-folded woman before him as she swung her reticule with great panache.
Making note that he ought to save the blindfold for other, more lascivious activities, his heart warmed at the fantastical mind behind her lovely face.
Petra had decided to try her hand at writing mysteries to help support her sanctuary, even though Wolf had already invested a significant portion of his stake in Herron Shipping into her work.
Business had gone quite well since John had left and despite his previous laissez-faire attitude, Wolf wished to continue his level of participation in the business, as long as it did not take away from his time with Petra.
However, she claimed she wished to bring in a sustainable source of income herself, as her inheritance would not fund the sanctuary indefinitely, hence the writing.
Of course, this meant they often brainstormed together, which he adored.
“You know, if someone heard our conversation passing by, they might be concerned for my safety.”
Petra grinned, her hands out before her as she still could not see. “Too bad I’ve decided I’m rather fond of you.”
“Oh, so you’ll let me live? Are you sure? The reticule is quite the surprising weapon of choice. No one would suspect you.” He kissed the dimple that appeared on her right cheek, enjoying how she whirled around as if trying to catch him.
“I might use it if you do not tell me what this surprise is soon. You know mysteries drive me mad.”
“This one is almost solved, I promise. Just a few more steps.”
Wolf’s heart beat a tattoo against his chest. He hoped he hadn’t overstepped.
This was Petra, he reminded himself. Even if she did not like it, she would be glad for what this surprise would do for everyone at the sanctuary.
Now that she no longer had to hide from her father, the building had ostensibly been marked as a charity.
Lord Kemberley, while still a miserable bastard in manipulating his fellow peers, had finally taken his daughter’s measure correctly.
Petra and Cecile had heard no accounts of his abusing or setting up any domestic worker, so as far as they were concerned, he had kept his end of their bargain.
However, Petra did attempt to keep the true purpose of their venture vague to protect the safety of those who sought it out.
Many in society still viewed victims of lecherous employers through the lens of sin and guilt, no matter their innocence.
As he crossed the threshold from the hallway, now was the moment to find out whether he had overstepped.
“Do you know where you are?”
“Jules, I’ve been blindfolded since we left the townhouse.” Petra tugged at the fabric around her eyes, which he had tied with the utmost care for her comfort in this endeavor.
“Ah, ah,” he chided. “Use those analytical skills, Lady Wolf. What do your other senses tell you?”
Petra lifted her head in the air and sniffed. Wolf shook his head at the adorable sight, knowing she could not see him and would chide him for thinking her adorable.
Yet she was.
“There is some dust and grease paint, so I know where we are, but…why does it smell like a library?” Even with her blindfold, a furrow began to form between her brows.
“Because it is a library,” he said simply, willing the surprise to sink in.
“We are at the sanctuary…and a library.” Petra’s patience finally seemed to expire and she put her hands to her eyes again.
“May I take it off now?”
Wolf nodded, then remembered she could not see him and went to untie the material.
As the silk fell away the amused little smile on Petra’s face disappeared as her eyes grew saucer-like in shape and her mouth fell into a perfect ‘O’ of surprise. She stayed in that expression so long that Wolf was of half a mind to call off the entire thing.
At last, she spoke: “It looks like the library at Wolfridge House.”
“Yes,” he answered tentatively, still unsure of her state of mind. “I had it modeled after that one. You seemed to like it.”
Her expression still neutral, Petra nodded. “That was when I realized I was in love with you.”
He gave a small laugh, though mostly from tension. “Because of my library?”
“And reading the notes you left me in your books.” Her sweet smile was back, becoming increasingly radiant and glorious with each passing moment.
“How did you do this, Jules?” She settled a gentle hand upon his forearm, her mahogany eyes brimming with a tenderness so profound that the rigid tension within his frame finally began to ebb away.
“You like it?” he asked, forgetting to mask the need in his voice.
“Like is too paltry a word. This is the best thing anyone has ever done for me.” She waved her arm before her. “This can benefit so many people.”
Ever since Petra had mentioned that she was teaching some of the women who were interested how to read, the idea had taken seed in Wolf. After consulting with Cecile, he had ordered the work done in one of the older small stages when Petra wasn’t there. And when she was there…
“This was why Cecile kept warning me of the wasp nest in here, wasn’t it? Of course I would stay away!”
“She knew you would, you do despise wasps.”
Petra shook her head with complete earnestness. “I love all animals but I do not understand why they exist.”
“They could be another possible means of murder.” Wolf tilted his head to the side so that he could best appreciate his wife in her element.
“Ooh, yes, a mysterious swarm of wasps.” A wicked gleam filled her eyes, one that he adored, especially when she turned it on him. She began to stroll through the small library, reading the book titles as she walked.
“Where did you obtain these books?” she asked, peeking her head out from behind a shelf. “Some of them are practical for women looking for work but some of them are novels.”
“I bought some and the rest are from the family seat. I judged that way people could read for both pleasure and for usefulness.”
Turning back to him, the expression on her face could have lit up the entire library
“You thought of everything.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, her eyes suddenly glassy.
His own eyes feeling a bit damp, he coughed before he spoke again. “I just thought you might like it. And whoever came to stay here might as well.”
Hurrying forward, Petra looped her arms around his neck and kissed him fully on the lips.
In that kiss he tasted love and tears. And that essence that was uniquely her: sweetness with hidden depths.
Pulling back, she attempted to wipe her eyes with her gloves.
“If I did not say it enough before, thank you. Thank you, Jules. I cannot believe you did this.”
Taking her gloved hand in his, he slowly kissed her knuckles. “I love you, Petra. More than anything or anyone in the world. I would do anything for you.”
Biting her lip, Petra gazed back up at him, now with heat in those brown depths. “I think we may need to hurry home, my lord. I have, uh, something else I may need your assistance with.”
After nipping at her lip, he grabbed her hand and pulled her with him. “As you wish, my lady.”
* * *
Lord and Lady Wolfridge maintained a mannered sense of propriety and decorum as he helped her up into the carriage.
The second the door shut, however…
Skirts were shoved up. Petticoats were cursed.
“Too many layers,” Wolf grumbled.
“Oh, please, Jules.” Petra whimpered as he swallowed her plea with a hot kiss, his hands locating that slit in her drawers as she bit his lip in pleasure.
Wolf stroked, then teased, then circled the bundle of nerves at the center of her sex. When they got home, he would–
“Oh, Jules!” Petra cried in ecstasy, rolling off of him and sinking into the leather squab beneath them.
“What do you think they would say, when they find out?” she asked in a husky voice that made Wolf wish to roar from male pride.
“Who is that, my love?” he asked, cursing women’s day fashion for the number of buttons as he searched for a way to quickly touch more of her skin.
“Jillian and John.”
They turned the corner to Wolfridge House just then, as Wolf replaced his gloves and the carriage jostled, sending the curtains flying.
Opening his mouth to respond, something caught his eye just outside of the carriage window.
Wolf could not have been more shocked at the sight before him if Petra had told him she was to be the next Prime Minister.
Not that she could not have filled such an office if called upon, but times were what they were.
Standing in front of his townhouse were indeed John and Jillian. Holding hands.
“Childhood friend, my arse,” Wolf muttered with indignant glee.
“Jules?” From the angle she was sitting, Petra could still not see what he could see.
“Let me deal with this, Lady Wolf.” As Wolf hopped down from the carriage, John turned to look at him, and his expression was both sheepish and extraordinarily happy all at once.
While Wolf was immensely pleased for him, he could not help but feel the need to give him some grief for his role in how things unfolded.
He caught his friend’s eye and nodded to their clasped hands, raising an eyebrow.
John sighed an exasperated yet contented sort of sigh.
“You were right, Wolfridge, she was my Lenore or Annabel Lee or whatever you called her all those months ago. But most importantly, she is mine.” He raised their joined hands and kissed his wife’s knuckles just as Wolf had done to Petra’s hand earlier that day.
“And I am hers.” He stared at Jillian as if he had forgotten Wolf was there for a moment.
While he truly understood John’s dazed happiness, he quietly cleared his throat.
“Right.” John snapped his focus back to Wolf. “Which means that as her family, we are concerned about Lady Petra.”
“Is that so?” Wolf attempted to put on his former disaffected air, but it was like a shoe from childhood that one had outgrown.