Epilogue
One year later
The mantel clock in her study at Cranleigh ticked softly toward the hour. Audrey braced an elbow on her desk, her chin resting in her hand as she checked off columns in the ledger.
Going through the household accounts every week was something she had never done at Violet House or at Fournier Downs.
But here at Cranleigh, and at Berkeley Square whenever they were in London, she had taken to it without reservation.
Even one year after their wedding, which sometimes felt like a lifetime ago, and other times like a single day, she still marveled at the difference of feeling.
She’d never felt much like a duchess. But she did feel every inch the viscountess that she now was.
At long last, her life had fallen into place, and the fit was as natural as her next breath of air.
As the clock chimed, Hugh strode into the study. He shut the door firmly behind him and began to stalk toward the desk, a deeply serious expression fixed on his face. “Rise,” he commanded.
She leaped to her feet. “What is wrong?”
“Nothing at all,” he replied, the solemn expression vanishing as he sat in her chair and hooked her waist. Hugh brought her down into his lap. “I just realized the little imp is asleep, and I have you all to myself.”
She pinched his chest. “That is for making me worry.”
Hugh kissed her. “That is for putting up with me.”
“I don’t know how I do.” But when he clasped her to him again in another kiss, she relented. Though only for a few moments. She pulled back. “She won’t be asleep for very long.”
He kissed the tip of Audrey’s nose. “She’s too stubborn, like her mother.”
Catherine was only a few months old, but from her first breath and wail, she had effectively stolen their hearts.
They’d been in London for Audrey’s confinement, which had allowed Genie and Cassie to be with her when her time had come.
But a few hours into it, and with little progress made, Audrey had only wanted one person at her side.
She would not be dissuaded. Against the doctor’s wishes, Hugh had entered the birthing chamber, already looking bedraggled in his shirtsleeves after spending the last few hours pacing the halls, hearing her cries.
He’d told her afterward that each one had been like a knife to the chest.
Shortly after he joined her, the baby had come, and the disapproving doctor had lain a little bundle in Hugh’s arms. Catherine Millicent Marsden Neatham was a little golden-haired angel, and Audrey had never seen Hugh more in love than he was with their daughter.
The heat in his gaze now, however, came close. He rubbed his palm along her thigh, his mouth nuzzling her neck.
“Cassie is due to arrive today,” Audrey reminded him.
“Mrs. Simmons can get her settled,” he replied, his breath hot on her neck. “We don’t need to be standing in the front door to greet her.”
Mrs. Simmons was housekeeper at Cranleigh and had been for nearly two decades. Audrey got on well with her, but, perhaps predictably, she had a closer rapport with the housekeeper at their Berkeley Square residence: Mrs. Greer Carrigan.
After Audrey and Hugh’s wedding, they’d combined their households, and Audrey had begun interviewing for a housekeeper.
But no one, no matter how pleasant and organized and appropriately stern, came up to snuff in comparison to the servant Audrey most admired and trusted.
So, after discussing it with Hugh, she’d offered the position to Greer.
It was, after all, the next expected step up for a lady’s maid.
She accepted with one of her rare smiles, and she and Carrigan now resided full time in London.
Audrey’s new lady’s maid, Dorothy, had been Charlotte Bainbury’s maid, and she’d accepted with excitement when Audrey had written to her with the offer.
Her relationship with Dorothy wasn’t the same as it had been with Greer, but they were beginning to get along well.
Audrey didn’t have an abundance of time to think too deeply on it anyhow.
She was far too busy with Hugh and little Cat and the running of Cranleigh.
Cassie would be staying with them for the summer, too.
She’d written the month before, begging for an invitation.
Within weeks, she would reach her majority and while Michael had given up his blustering about her not being able to manage her own income, he had not quite given up on his crusade for her to marry.
The Season was ending in London, and Cassie was desperate to get away after his failed attempts to throw potential suitors into her path.
Hugh’s palm grazed the old scar from the bullet that had struck her a few summers ago. “How is it that you’re even more tempting now than you were before?”
She never felt more loved and cherished than when she was with him.
During the last year, he’d shown her so many ways to love, and not just in terms of intimacy.
It was in the small things, like the sly wink he’d give when she caught him gazing at her.
Or how he’d leave a flower or something else he’d found out on the grounds of their Surrey estate—once, it had been an enormous pinecone nearly the size of her forearm—on her pillow or desk.
It was how he’d stand close and keep his hand on her lower back whenever she was meeting someone new and was nervous.
Or it was just making a comment about how delicious she smelled after he’d kissed the crown of her head.
“I suppose it is the same mystery that makes me love you more with every passing day,” she replied. He growled in appreciation and leaned up for a kiss.
“However,” Audrey said, a hand to his chest to keep him back, “It will have to wait. It’s nearly two o’clock, and I cannot allow Cassie to arrive without a proper greeting. I haven’t seen her in months.”
Hugh sighed and sat back, though his hand stayed rooted on her thigh. “Very well, I am content to wait until tonight.”
“Your fortitude is heroic, my lord.”
He groaned lightly before releasing her leg. Once his arms were back around her waist, he said, “I’ve heard from Sir Gabriel.”
“Oh?” Audrey shifted in his lap, her interest piqued. Albeit, she was a little wary too.
Sir Gabriel had asked for Hugh’s assistance on a murder case in December, and the argument that had ensued had been the low point of their first year as husband and wife.
At seven months pregnant, Audrey had been close to confinement and Hugh had insisted he work alone.
She’d been resentful and, admittedly, not entirely reasonable.
Everything had resolved in the end, but she didn’t want another incident like that again.
In fact, she was rather enjoying the monotony and calm of their life at Cranleigh.
Perhaps it wouldn’t always be that way, and they may eventually be drawn into another investigation together, but for now, she was content.
“He is thinking of retiring from the magistrate’s chair.”
Audrey’s fingers, which had been combing the ends of Hugh’s hair, went still. “And?”
“And he wants to speak to me about taking his place.”
Her stomach cinched. “As magistrate?”
Hugh held her eyes. “I’ve already replied.”
Audrey shifted away from him, her fingers withdrawing from his hair. “You didn’t think to discuss it with me?”
“There is nothing to discuss. My mind is made up, and the letter is sent.”
Her temper beginning to simmer, Audrey braced her hands on the desk and started to stand. But he pulled her back down and held her tight in his lap again.
“I have said no.”
She stared at him as the fire in her chest stamped out. “But…you love Bow Street. You miss it terribly.”
“I do,” he said softly, nodding. “But my life is here. It’s here with you and Cat. I know the job and how often I would be away from you, and I can’t. I don’t want it more than I want my time with you.”
Audrey melted against him, drawing her legs up. This was her favorite place to be, curled up against him, with all the time in the world stretching before them. She kissed him, relieved beyond measure.
The door to the study winged open then, and Sir sauntered in without knocking or announcing himself. Audrey sat up. “He’s beginning to take after you,” she murmured to Hugh, getting to her feet.
Hugh groaned in disappointment. “Sir, what are you doing? Cat was sleeping.”
Now fourteen, Sir was as tall as Audrey.
He walked into the study holding Catherine in one arm.
She was wrapped in a blanket, the bundling so proficient and tight that Audrey knew at once Sir had done it himself.
He was skilled at wrapping up babies, he’d said, while trying to show their first nanny how to imitate his method.
“She was not, she was wailing like a banshee,” he replied. “You’ve got to hire a new nanny, Lady A. I found her sleeping through all Cat’s howling, dead to the world, out like a two-penny boxer.”
He bounced the baby, who was now burbling happily with her fingers in her mouth. Audrey grinned as Sir bopped Catherine on the nose and pulled a silly face.
She bit back her smile, knowing Sir would scowl at it, and left the desk. “You are entirely too picky.”
Hugh quickly overtook her and snatched the baby from Sir’s arms before Audrey could reach them. “What’s this nanny’s name again?”
“Miss Pierce,” Audrey said with a shake of her head. “Honestly, she’s been with us for four weeks.”
“There she is!” Basil said, as he entered the study. “Sir, did you take that baby again? Miss Pierce is utterly beside herself, sobbing that Catherine has been abducted. Goodness, she’s blubbering on and on about nonsensical things like faeries and changelings. Someone, take that baby back to her.”
“See?” Sir said, with a pleading look at Audrey. “Changelings! I told you she was no good.”
Basil threw up his arms. “I suppose you want to dismiss this nanny too?”
“She’s barmy,” the boy insisted.
“If his lordship went around dismissing every servant you didn’t like, we wouldn’t have a staff at all.”
“He wouldn’t have a valet, that’s for certain,” Sir muttered.
“I should like to know who else would put up with the lot of you,” Basil said, before swiftly bowing to Audrey with a simper. “Not your ladyship, of course. I find you to be the only reasonable one, my lady.”
She couldn’t suppress her smile this time. “Thank you, Basil. Would you please take Catherine to Miss Pierce for now?” She took her from Hugh, her little fist now glistening with spit, and handed her to the startled and suddenly rigid valet.
He clasped the gurgling baby, holding her far away from him, like week-old laundry. He turned and began toward the exit, muttering under his breath, “I am a valet. Valets do not carry babies…”
“And Sir,” Audrey turned to the boy, “will you find Mrs. Simmons and tell her we may need to look for a new nanny after all?”
Sir saluted, bowed, and then darted away with more excitement than she’d seen in him since they’d relieved the first nanny of her post.
Audrey followed him to the door, then closed it. She turned the lock and glanced over her shoulder. Hugh crossed his arms.
“What are you up to, minx? I thought you wanted to form a welcome party for Cassie.”
She sauntered toward him, enjoying the way he watched her. “I have a more important task in mind.” Audrey put her arms around his neck, and he dragged her close. “And much more pleasurable.”
He lowered his forehead to hers. “You aren’t getting away from me this time, my lady.”
Audrey raked her fingers into his hair and nipped his bottom lip. “I’ll hold you to that, my lord.”
Thank you for reading Taken to the Grave and for continuing the Bow Street Duchess Mystery series. Please consider leaving a rating and review on to help other readers discover the series.