Any Duchess Will Do (Page 80)

Any Duchess Will Do (Spindle Cove #4)(80)
Author: Tessa Dare

This was the moment. And from here, the world only grew warmer.

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Tell me this means yes.”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, to all the questions. To every question. And I’d be honored to wear your ring.”

Excepting Charlotte, who muttered “Drat,” everyone gave a hearty cheer.

Hours later, after all the biscuits were eaten and the teapot down to dregs, after Daniela had gone up to sleep upstairs, the two of them stood on opposite sides of the shop counter, holding hands and trading fond looks back and forth.

“I’ve just noticed something,” Pauline said. “I always feel most in love with you when we’re surrounded by books.”

“Well, then. I must speak with the architect designing our new house. I’ll instruct him to install floor-to-ceiling bookcases on every wall of our bedchamber.”

She smiled. “It’s enough that you’re here. I confess, I’d lost hope. I read in the paper that you went home to Cumberland.”

“I did. My mother went with me. I settled matters with my land steward so I wouldn’t have to return for some time. And we placed a stone for Mary Annabel in the family churchyard.”

“Oh, Griff. I’m glad you were able to do that together.”

“So am I.” He cleared his throat and looked around at the shop. “How did you manage all this without the funds?”

“I started with the books you sent, of course. The ladies helped me gather more. And for the shop rental, I took out a loan from Errol Bright.”

Jealousy flashed in his eyes. “Errol Bright made you a loan?”

She nodded. “A friendly loan. That’s all. I’m halfway to paying him back already.”

“I’ll bet you are.” He kissed her hand and stroked it fondly. “I will demand some compromise, you know. Spindle Cove is home now, but I have other properties that need attention. Responsibilities in London, as well. I’m now a governor of several charities. And I suspect the next year or so will teach us who our true friends are. If we’re invited to a ball or party, I should like to attend and show off my beautiful wife.”

“I’d like that, too.”

His brow furrowed as he studied the notch between her second and third fingers. “I can’t promise you children. You know that. I’d love nothing more than a family with you, but . . . there are no guarantees.”

“I know.”

“All I can offer you with certitude is a devoted husband and devious mother-in-law. Can it be enough?”

She smiled. “More than enough.”

“Well, and we can’t forget Daniela. She’ll be with us, too. I know change is difficult for her, but I’ve given it a great deal of thought. We’ll arrange for her to have a bedchamber in every one of our residences, each arranged and decorated exactly the same. So she’ll always feel at home. And we can hire her a companion, if you like. An excellent one. You know I only employ the best.”

Her throat itched so fiercely, it was all she could do to squeeze out, “Thank you.”

“There’s no need of thanks. You know I was raised an only child. It will be my joy to have a sister. If you’ll share her.”

There was nothing—nothing—he could have said that would have meant more. He was the best of men. She should never have doubted him, not even for a moment. She never would again.

He said, “Daniela and my mother will get on like thieves, I suspect.”

The image made Pauline smile through her tears. “Goodness. The shopping trips alone.”

“Never mind the shopping. Imagine the knitting.”

They laughed together.

She touched a hand to her brow. “It’s too much. You’re being too perfect. Quickly, say something horrid so I know this isn’t a dream.”

“Very well. I have a creeping skin condition, and I hoot like a barn owl when I reach orgasm.”

She laughed. “But I know very well those things aren’t true.”

“They weren’t true a few months ago. I think you’d better strip me naked and make sure nothing’s changed.”

“Hm. I might know of a quiet hayloft.”

He leaned across the counter and kissed her. Warmly, leisurely. It was possibly the best kiss he’d ever given her.

It was an everyday kiss.

“I love you,” he said.

“It’s truly going to be all right,” she said. “Isn’t it?”

His lips quirked, and he squeezed her hand in his. “Sometimes it will be all right. But for the most part, it’s going to be wonderful.”

And it was.

Epilogue

Five years later

“Do you have a name picked out for her?” Victor Bramwell, Lord Rycliff, reclined in his chair at the Bull and Blossom and stacked his arms over his chest.

“Her?” Colin echoed. “How do you know the babe will be a ‘her’?”

“It’s certain to be a girl,” Bram said. “Susanna calls it the Spindle Cove Effect. There’s my Victoria. Thorne has little Bryony. Susanna even had a letter from Violet Winterbottom—twins. We’ve all had firstborn girls.” He cocked his head, indicating Griff. “Save for Halford, of course.”

Griff didn’t correct him by mentioning Mary Annabel—this wasn’t the time—but took a thoughtful sip to her memory.

“I wouldn’t place any bets,” Colin said. “Nothing about this has gone according to custom or reason. Minerva wasn’t supposed to give birth for a month yet. We wouldn’t have imposed on Halford for a visit otherwise.”

“Just as well you’re here, and not in London,” Griff said. “In Spindle Cove, she has her friends around her. And there’s certainly space enough at the house.”

They’d razed the crumbling old Whittlecombe farmhouse years ago, replacing it with a home that was grand enough for a duke and his duchess, but not too overwhelming for Daniela or too ostentatious for the neighborhood. He and Pauline thought of it as the honeymoon cottage to their larger homes in Cumberland and Town. It was the one residence that was all theirs—not populated by generations of history.

And most of the year, it was home.

But while it boasted twenty rooms and the finest in modern construction, the house wasn’t soundproof—nor big enough to contain three anxious noblemen while a woman suffered through childbirth upstairs.

Susanna, exhausted by assisting the midwife and replying to constant requests for updates, had shooed the men down to the village for a drink. She promised to send word as soon as there was anything to report.