The Wicked Duke wasn’t the end of a fairy-tale. It was the beginning. It was the catalyst, from which a man in love decided what the devil he intended to do about it. How he planned to make his own fate, with the woman he chose to share it with.
Priscilla made him want more than a happy ever after. She made him want it with her.
Thad downed his ale and rose to his feet.
If he wanted to share a life with the woman he loved, what was he doing in a tavern she couldn’t even enter?
He exited into the street and blinked at the waning sun.
There was his trusty horse and gig. Arguably more stylish than the sweaty back of a camel, but was it more fun? A better story to tell the grandchildren?
He untied the gig and swung up into the seat.
His horse headed for home.
Thad frowned. He’d always dreamed of sharing his home with a wife, but did it need to be the one on Jermyn Street? He was a renter. The townhouse wasn’t even his. Did the place even matter, as long as they were together?
He didn’t know precisely how they would work everything out, but the details were something a husband and wife should work out as partners.
She hadn’t mentioned being amenable to looking for a compromise, but the truth of the matter, the shameful, embarrassing fact was…
He hadn’t asked.
He’d sat there in silence, not waiting for fate to come to him but, worse, watching it walk away. They both deserved better than that.
If there was one thing that was worth risking everything for, it was love. He was in. Was she? There was only one way to find out.
He turned his horse toward Grosvenor Square.
If she said no, well… then, that was no. But at least he would have an answer. He would have tried to win the princess.
And if she says yes? came the niggling, insidious voice that always blocked him from trying. If she says yes, could he believe her? Believe in a future where marrying him wasn’t settling for less?
And if she said no… how would he go on? Seeing her everywhere he went, counting down the days to her inheritance when he could finally put her out of his sight, if not his heart and mind.
Thad tightened his grip on the reins.
He would have to trust and risk and hope. He would be forever resentful of his own inaction if he walked away from his One True Love without even trying to make it last.
Asking her to marry him was a risk, no matter what the answer. But a “yes” didn’t mean he was destined to follow in his father’s footsteps into a loveless marriage.
Happy Ever After wasn’t a destination, but a lifelong journey. If he married Priscilla, they would create their fate together, as partners. A team. Love wasn’t a lightning strike, but the trip of a lifetime.
He handed his horse and gig to a footman. No bluebirds and rainbows today. Night had fallen. Thad tried not to take it as a sign.
The door to the Weatherby townhouse already yawned open. This would either be the greatest moment of his life…
Or the worst.
He rolled back his shoulders. If Priscilla wanted to marry him, if she truly believed they would be happy together, then that made two of them. He’d sign any contract.
And if she could not, if happiness meant separating, if he was the temporary holiday…
Then Thad would be the one to walk away, and he wouldn’t be back.
“This way if you please, sir,” said the butler.
Thad shook his head.
