Only, this time, she would not be alone.
A second rap at the door shook her from her musings.
“Enter,” she called softly, aware of the lateness of the hour.
Much of the household—including Lady Verity—was abed.
The door opened to reveal Felix, a most welcome sight. And looking distinctly like the scandalous duke he had claimed he would be, he was wearing nothing more than a robe and bearing a tray in his hands. It was laden with food and wine.
Her stomach growled at the sight, and the rest of her filled with heat and awareness.
She had missed him.Dear God, how she had missed his hands on her, his lips on her. The way he looked at her with those vibrant green eyes. The way he smelled, the quiet strength of his big body, the way he held her in his arms.
“How are you feeling, darling?” he asked her, his concerned gaze searching hers as he crossed the threshold and closed the door at his back.
“Much better now that you are here,” she told him, for it was true.
Just him being in the chamber with her was enough to calm her. How she had ever supposed she could spend the rest of her life loving him from afar was beyond her now as she drank in his presence.
“I thought you might be hungry,” he said, laying the tray on a writing desk.
It was laden with meat and cheeses and tarts. Her stomach rumbled again.
She pressed a hand over her midriff, heat prickling her cheeks. “You are always taking care of me.”
He smiled, and Lord, but he was beautiful when he smiled. “Someone should have been, all this time.”
“I took care of myself,” she protested lightly.
But he was walking toward her now, his arms open, and she could not deny the rightness of walking into them and feeling his embrace close around her. She pressed her cheek over his heart, listening to the steady, reassuring thumps, and slid her arms around his lean waist.
He kissed her crown. “You do not need to take care of yourself any longer, my love.”
Gratitude and love washed over her. “This feels as if it must be a dream.”
“If it is a dream, let me sleep, for I don’t want to wake.” The deep rumble of his baritone infused her with warmth.
“Nor do I,” she said.
And then she could not resist sliding her fingers around to his side and lightly tickling him. He emitted a squeak that was not at all ducal.
“Why did you do that?” he asked, sounding perplexed.
She tilted her head back to gaze up at him, allowing all the love she had for him to show in her eyes. “I wanted to make certain you were real, and that this is not a dream after all. It would seem scandalous dukes are ticklish.”
“Saucy wench,” he said, smiling softly back at her. “Perhaps I shall have to see where scandalous duchesses are ticklish.”
How necessary it was, to share this brief moment of lightness after all they had endured that evening. After her brother’s death. After his attempt on her life and Felix’s. She still felt quite sure he had meant to kill them both.
That part still seemed like a nightmare in itself. But although she was relieved she would never again need to fear Drummond, she could not be happy he had been killed. Nor would she soon forget the sound of the gunfire echoing in the room, the horror clawing at her throat, the heavy weight of his body falling against hers as the life drained from him.
“I am not a duchess,” she pointed out to Felix at last, forcing her mind from her turbulent thoughts.
She knew from past experience that it was no good to dwell in the darkness.The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light, the Bible told her, and she believed it. She had lived it. And the light she had seen was shining above her and standing before her. That light was an innocent child sleeping soundly down the hall. That light was love and happiness and laughter, and everything that was good.
Everything that was necessary.
“I have a license at the ready,” Felix told her then, his countenance growing somber once more. “Marry me tomorrow.”
