Epilogue
SIX MONTHS LATER
Theo rolled onto his side, the linen sheets warm and tangled beneath him, and looked down at his wife. Her hair was a wild halo across the pillow, spilling over her shoulders in dark curls and waves. One hand lay under her cheek; the other rested lightly between them.
She was snoring softly and inelegantly, and he loved her for it.
How is it possible to love someone this much and still find more room to love them in the next breath?
He bent and kissed the tip of her nose. Then, more softly still, her lips. She stirred faintly but did not wake.
“I will be back before you know I’ve gone,” he murmured, smoothing back a stray curl from her temple.
He dressed in silence, pulling on breeches and a shirt left unbuttoned at the collar. When he stepped outside the villa, the sea greeted him with the hush of gentle waves and the scent of salt and citrus hanging in the warm breeze.
The path to the beach was worn and sandy, winding between wind-bent trees and pale rocks, and with a smile, Theo proceeded. His boots were in his hand by the time he reached the shore. He stepped into the surf barefoot, the water cool and glass-clear, curling around his ankles like silk.
He closed his eyes.
No titles. No expectations. No shadows at his back.
This—this was freedom. And it had taken him a lifetime to find. He and April had been traveling through the Continent for weeks now; a journey neither of them had planned, but one they now could not imagine ending.
From Paris to Florence, and now the quiet coast of Spain, they had wandered without maps or expectations, and with each town they passed, Theo had felt more himself.
Gregory Roth had been sentenced by the Crown and would hang for his crimes.
Loretta, stripped of her standing and exiled from society, had vanished into the shadows, and her name was now a cautionary whisper.
The children—Samuel and Everett—had been taken in by Loretta’s kin, but Theo had ensured they were well provided for.
He sent coin, toys, and even a tutor. They were, after all, blameless.
“Your Grace.”
The voice behind him struck like a chord from a forgotten song; low, distinct, and familiar in a way that didn’t sit entirely well.
Theo turned, his pulse tightening. A man stood at the edge of the shore, wearing plain-clothes and unassuming, but unmistakably military in his stance. Theo had never forgotten that face.
“Major General Dandridge,” Theo said slowly, walking out of the water. “You are the last man I expected to find on a Spanish beach.” Dandrige had worked with his father, and after his family's deaths, the man had questioned Theo extensively, though not unkindly.
The general bowed. “Quite so.”
Theo stepped fully onto the sand, folding his arms as he studied the older man. “How did you find me?”
“We have been watching you for years.”
Theo’s brows lifted. “Who is ‘we,’ exactly?”
“Agents of the Crown,” Dandridge said simply. “Your father was one of us. One of the best.”
Theo stilled. Smythe's findings were correct then. “Go on.”
“We never solved his murder,” the general continued. “But we took note when you started asking the right questions. When you uncovered what we could not, it became clear that you had the instincts and the capacity for discretion. The Crown has taken an interest.”
Theo gave a slow, incredulous smile. “You do realize I’m on my honeymoon?”
“I do. We are aware of your marriage in the spring. Our Felicitations.”
“Good,” Theo chuckled. “Then you understand when I say I’ve put all of that behind me. I have a new life now, and I must decline your offer.”
Dandridge studied him for a long moment. “Are you certain?”
“I’ve never been more certain of anything.” Theo smiled faintly. “Though I confess I’m flattered.”
“You would have made a fine agent,” the general said.
“Some things are not meant to be,” Theo replied, grinning. “Besides, I much prefer swimming with my wife to chasing smugglers through the woods.”
Dandridge gave a small bow. “Farewell then, Your Grace.”
Theo watched him go until the man disappeared beyond the curve of the path. Then he looked back at the water.
That life was not mine, and I am finally free to choose the one that is.
He returned to the villa, and upstairs in their private rooms, the bedchamber door stood open and within, April sat at the vanity brushing out her hair, her shift slipping off one shoulder.
Theo crossed the room and placed his hands gently on her bare skin. He bent to kiss her there, just below the curve of her neck.
She met his eyes in the mirror. “Where did you go?”
He kissed her once more before answering. “An old ghost found me. A man from my father’s time.”
Her brows rose slightly, but she said nothing. Theo told her everything; the offer, this father's secret life, and the decision Theo had made.
When he finished, she stood and wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek against his chest. “You did the right thing, my love,” she murmured.
He held her close, breathing her in. After a moment, she pulled back and looked up at him with a familiar glint in her eyes. “Now, husband… don’t forget we’re going swimming this afternoon.”
“You are still as a post,” April called, circling him in the water, her voice echoing off the limestone walls of the cove.
Theo raised a brow. “There is a reason I am still, Madam.”
She scoffed, sending up a little splash his way. “Do not tell me it is strategy.”
“It is exactly that.”
Before she could reply, he lunged, catching her about the waist and dragging her under with a triumphant splash. She shrieked then burst into laughter, her arms flailing before they wrapped around his neck.
“You menace!”
“You were warned,” he murmured, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her lips.
The sun filtered down in golden shafts from the cliffs overhead, lighting the aquamarine waters of the private cove. The rock walls rose high and impassable, enclosing them in perfect seclusion. No eyes, no judgment, no court nor whispering nobility. Only the sea, the sky, and them.
Still holding her in the water, Theo brushed a wet curl from her cheek. “Do you know why I married you?”
She blinked. “What? Now? After all this time, you finally offer an answer to the question I’ve been dying to know?”
He smiled. “I had to teach you patience first.”
She laughed, a rich, sunlit sound. “Well, consider the lesson thoroughly learnt. Now out with it.”
He drew her closer, resting his forehead against hers as the sea swayed around them. “I never meant to marry, April. I told myself I never would. And then… I came across some stipulation in my inheritance. Some tiresome condition about legacy and honor. I needed a wife.”
Her brows lifted. “And you chose me from practicality?”
“No,” he whispered. “That was the pretext. But the truth? I saw your name, and I remembered. I remembered a little girl in a pale blue frock who ran at me when I arrived at Stone Hall one summer, who wrapped her arms around my knees and called me a knight. I had not forgotten you, April. Not for a moment. When I heard you were debuting, I knew I would not rest until you were mine.”
Her throat tightened. “And here I am.”
“Here you are,” he said, “lighting every moment of my life.”
In the late afternoon, they walked along the beach, the sand cool beneath their feet, the sunset casting molten gold across the tide. They were silent for a while, her hand in his, the hush between them soft and comfortable.
A pack of children came racing past them, chattering in Spanish, tossing a ragged ball back and forth. One of the bolder boys tugged at Theo’s hand and gestured for him to join. Without hesitation, Theo laughed and allowed himself to be pulled into their play.
April stood watching as he knelt to scoop a little girl and hoist her into the air, her giggles carrying on the wind.
He spun with two boys gripping his arms then let them dangle from his shoulders like mischievous capes.
He was all ease and charm, no trace of the silent, brooding duke who had once haunted London’s drawing rooms.
Her heart filled so fully it ached.
When he returned, dusted in salt and laughter, she caught his hand. “How do you feel about children?”
He looked out toward the water for a moment then he said, “I hadn’t thought of them. Not until this past summer.”
She waited.
“When I saw a horrified young lady with bright blue eyes barreling through London in a wayward curricle, driven by a foolish dandy,” he explained.
April laughed and looped her arms around his neck while he bent and kissed her softly. “I cannot wait,” he whispered. “To have many children with you.”
The End?