Upon A Midnight Dream (London Fairy Tales #1)(51)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

EPILOGUE

"Your Grace?" Alfred cleared his throat several times before continuing. It was strange to see him out by the stables; he looked so horribly out of place. Stefan had half a mind to feel sorry for him. Was the man shaking? Unfortunately the near death experiences as well as the murders taking place under Rosalind’s roof did nothing but make Stefan paranoid about anything and everything.

"Yes, is something wrong, Alfred? You look ill?"

"Ahem." Alfred gave Samson a nervous pat. "I am in need help, Your Grace."

"What is it?" Stefan leaned in close. "A debt? Have you been gambling? Trouble with the law? Truly, I would do anything for you, Alfred. You need but ask."

"I’m in love."

"Yes, well, anything but that. Now, try. What can I help you with?" Stefan was the last person in London from whom his valet should be seeking advice. Had the man missed the past month when Stefan’s proposals set Rosalind to laughter and angered her enough to want to throttle him?

Just then Rosalind happened upon the two of them.

Alfred stared at the ground.

Stefan pulled at his cravat.

"What’s going on?" she asked sweetly, though Stefan knew the look in her eyes was anything but sweet. Mocking? Yes. Sweet? Absolutely not.

"Talking of weather, and horses—"

"I’m in love!" Alfred blurted, even though Stefan was shaking his head in protest.

Rosalind sent Stefan a glare before reaching out and patting Alfred’s hand. "Now, does the lovely lady know where your affections lie?"

"Oh, I’m sure if it! I just do not know how to go about this whole proposal business."

Rosalind burst out laughing. "And you thought to ask him?" She pointed a shaky hand at Stefan and leaned against Samson all the while wiping tears from her eyes. It wasn’t long before Alfred too joined in the merriment. That left Stefan without an ally, for Samson was caught between the two with that gleaming smile on his face that was always mocking his master.

"Alright, that’s enough," Stefan said sourly. "I can very well propose. I was nervous! That’s all."

"Aw, it does these ears proud to hear so much laughter coming from the stables. What seems to be so funny?" Mary entered the stables hands on hips.

"Oh, my husband, he seems to be giving advice on how to woo." Rosalind winked and pulled Stefan close to her. He went because he couldn’t very well deny his beautiful wife anything, even when she was laughing at his expense.

Suddenly, Alfred seemed to tense. He began to wring his hands in front of him like a nervous school boy. A grin spread across Stefan’s face; he had quite an idea as to whom his valet held affection for.

"Alfred? Do you have anything you wish to say?" Stefan asked.

Alfred was pale and fidgety Devil take it, he couldn’t back down now! It was the perfect set up. He gave Alfred a curt nod of encouragement. The valet swallowed and turned to Mary taking her hand within his.

"We shall marry at once."

"Oh, Good Lord above," Rosalind said next to him. "Have you been taking lessons from my husband? Alfred, that is not how one proposes. That is—"

"Oh yes, yes, yes!" Mary squealed with delight and kissed Alfred soundly on the mouth, much to Stefan’s horrified dismay.

He cleared his throat.

The kiss continued.

"For the love of—"

"Sorry, Your Grace." Alfred pulled away, his cheeks slightly pink.

Rosalind snorted behind him, giving the clear message that he of all people shouldn’t be the one to talk, after he so blatantly kissed her at last night’s ball. Much to Lord Rawlings’ and the Duke of Tempest’s amusement, for they also had the occasional difficulty trying to keep their hands off their wives in public.

"If Your Graces will excuse us?" Alfred asked tactfully.

"You are dismissed," Stefan said firmly. The two bounded away from the stables hand in hand.

Rosalind reached around him hugging his body from behind. He smiled and turned around to kiss her firmly on the mouth, then led his wife away from the dirty stables to the comfort of his study. Once they reached his destination he pulled Rosalind into his arms. Pure contentment caused his muscles to relax as he breathed in her scent.

"Any word of my sisters?" she asked once they had enjoyed the silence of each other’s presence for a while..

Stefan sighed, leaning into his wife’s embrace. "Not just yet, but they are safe, I know it in my heart."

Rosalind sighed and pulled away. She walked to the door and Stefan had to fight his irritation that she would leave him while he so desperately wanted to have her on his very desk.

She turned the lock.

"Thank the saints." He swept her into his arms pushing her back against the door, savagely stripping her of her afternoon dress.

"Ah, tsk-tsk! Remember, you said you would woo me even after we were married, you brute. Now, give me the words, give me the sonnets, and give me the flowers."

Stefan whispered naughty words into his wife’s ear.

With a giggle, she answered, "That will do nicely for now."