Epilogue
‘So how does it feel to be riding in this carriage as Viscountess Worthing?’ Lucas teased.
Their wedding had been beautiful and the wedding breakfast a celebration of love.
Everyone they cared for had attended, even Miss Grey and Dolph.
It was a kindness Lucas had not expected after everything that had come to pass between them over the last few weeks, but seeing them there to celebrate his and Ophelia’s nuptials had moved him deeply.
They were indeed true friends they would have for a lifetime. They might even become each other’s match. Love worked in truly mysterious ways, especially around his wife.
Ophelia chuckled and nuzzled up against his neck.
‘As opposed to how I felt when we first met in this same carriage over two months ago?’ she asked.
‘I would say I much prefer this, husband,’ she murmured as he caressed her arms, pulling her tighter against him.
‘Although if I am honest, even then I hoped you might be my match or my first client.’
‘Well, it seems I was meant to be both,’ he replied.
‘And so far, you have done well in fulfilling your first London client’s expectations.
You secured me a match in thirty days and a wife by sixty.
But that last part about securing an heir within the year…
’ He paused. ‘We must begin working on that post haste.’ He leaned into her, kissing her soft mouth, then her cheek before making lingering progress along her jaw and down the nape of her neck, where she made a sweet purr of pleasure.
Her skin was warm and supple and smelled of sunshine and wildflowers, as she always did.
‘And I am happy to oblige you in those endeavors,’ she replied breathlessly.
She pushed his morning coat off his shoulders, untied his cravat slowly and tugged his shirt loose from his trousers.
He sucked in a breath. His body was thrumming and ready for her…
all of her. Her palm and fingers touched his skin, gliding along the scar running down his torso and he shuddered.
‘Ophelia,’ he groaned. How he had missed being touched. But would she think his scars grotesque? He stilled her hand with his own. ‘You do not have to touch them,’ he said.
She met his gaze, her pupils blown wide and her pulse racing where he held her wrist. ‘I want to savor every part of you, husband,’ she said with a reassuring smile.
‘You cannot deny me or else I shall deny you,’ she teased lifting her bodice back up from where he had tugged it down to gain better access to her neck and shoulders.
The challenge in her lifted eyebrow sent a thrill through him.
God, he loved his wife. ‘No limits then,’ he replied, releasing her hand and revelling in the feel of her palm running up his bare flesh.
He leaned in for another kiss, but a sharp edge poked into his side from his coat pocket that was now underneath his exposed rib.
He chuckled as he pulled away from her slowly.
‘I almost forgot. I have a little something for you as a wedding gift. I bought it for you after we first met… I think deep down I loved you even then, but I was not brave enough to believe I could ever deserve you.’
He pressed the small, finely wrapped rectangle into her palm. She sat up, her eyes narrowing on it. She tugged off the bow and ripped open the paper, sighing at the sight of the beautiful blue enamel card case he had bought her in Mayfair.
‘It is so lovely and perfect. Thank you,’ she said and then kissed him.
‘For your calling cards, my love. I wish you many more matches as successful as ours. Who shall be your next unsuspecting client?’ he teased.
‘Hopefully Trudy,’ she offered. ‘I am determined to find her a match, although I fear she will resist my efforts. But I want us all to have the love we deserve.’ She paused and smiled.
‘And I have an inkling of an idea as to where to begin with her match, but it will not be easy and I will need your help, husband.’
‘I am only too happy to oblige you in all of your endeavors, especially the mischievous ones.’ He nipped at the nape of her neck and she sighed in pleasure.
She snapped the card case closed. ‘Then, let this serve as a beacon to our future success.’
He ran his fingers over the card case. ‘And, also as a reminder of how one event brought us together,’ he said, his voice thick with emotion at the thought of how fateful their meeting was that day.
‘Sometimes, I think I should reward the little thief that brought us together,’ he chuckled, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand as he held it.
‘I have thought the same,’ she added. ‘But I also like to think that we were meant for one another and would have collided into each other’s lives somehow, regardless.’
‘I do hope so.’ He brought her hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles tenderly one by one. His chest tightened at the sight of his mother’s sapphire ring on her finger. It had moved him when Ophelia had chosen it above all others to wear as her wedding band.
And like everything about her, it looked perfect and like it was always meant to be hers.
Just as she was always meant to be his beauty, and he her reformed beast.