The tears that had yet to fall remained, threatening to spill. “I’ve been right here, waiting for you.”
“I know you have.” Gently, he brushed a tendril of hair from her cheek. “You have been steadfast and true, and a man could not ask for a better wife than you.”
“I know I’m not the wife you wanted,” she said.
“You are the only wife I wanted, and the one I thought I could never have,” he countered softly. “I love you, Vivi.”
The words she had longed to hear.
Those beautiful, stunning words coming from the heart of the man she had loved for twelve long and painful years to no avail. She swayed, so affected by the implications of it all that she might have fallen had Court not been there to slide a possessive arm around her waist and anchor her to him.
The tears were falling, blurring her vision. She blinked frantically to dash them away so that she could see his beloved face without hindrance as she clutched his shoulders, holding him to her, lest he tried to pull away. No, she was not letting go of him now. Nor ever again.
“You…love…me,” she repeated haltingly, as if she spoke a strange, new foreign language.
Because that was how it felt, this sudden knowledge that Court loved her.
He nodded, looking solemn and so beautifully handsome, and so different from the dashing young clean-shaven gentleman she had met as a girl. He had matured, growing into his form, all lean muscle and courtly grace with a masculinity that was somehow a hundredfold more potent than it had been before.
“Did you not know it?” he asked.
She stroked his jaw, loving the abrasion of his beard on her tender skin. Lovinghim. “I was too afraid to hope. I’ve loved you for so long. When I was a girl and you were a handsome young man come to Edmonds House for the first time. When I was a debutante and you danced with me at the Needham ball. When you came to me, broken and grief-stricken over Percy’s death. When you made love to me in the boathouse, when you married me. Even when you were far from me, I never stopped loving you. I’ve known it in my heart, in my soul. What I never knew was that you loved me too.”
“My God, Vivi.” His voice was raw, his countenance a reflection of his emotions—so much naked love writ across the handsome angles and planes. “I had no notion. I never dreamed you felt the same for me.”
“Nor did you ask,” she pointed out wryly.
But then, she had not asked him either.
“You know the reason I could not,” he said quietly.
And they were back to Percy again. To the man they had both loved as brother, as friend. To the broken promise. To the death of him and their world as they had known it.
“I speak to him sometimes,” she said. “To Percy. I was speaking to him just now, when you found me. And then I heard a bird singing, and there you were. It may be silliness on my part, but I can’t help but feel he was here with me, just for a moment. He loved us both, Court. I cannot think he would wish for us to be miserable apart.”
“We have honored him every way we could,” Court agreed. “I’d like to believe that he would be happy for us. That he would want our future to be filled with love and joy and each other.”
Another bird flew overhead, trilling a song in its wake.
“That’s all I have ever wanted for myself, is to be your wife,” she said, still stroking his beard, emotion welling inside her. “To love you. To be loved by you.”
He turned his head and kissed her palm reverently. “The time has come to stop living for the past and to live instead in the future we create together.”
“Yes.” She smiled, swallowing against another onslaught of tears. “I want that more than you’ll ever know.”
“I want it too, just as I want you, Vivi. In my life, by my side, in my bed. I want a family with you. Hell, I even want to host this house party with you, despite the harridan you invited for reasons that shall forever mystify me.”
A giggle escaped her. “Keep your voice down, or Lady Featherstone shall hear you. And I told you, it is for the good of the cause. The more supporters of the Lady’s Suffrage Society that we can find, the better we shall be for it, and the greater our chance of affecting change.”
He smiled down at her. “One thing is for certain. The next fortnight will be deuced interesting. But I wouldn’t have it any other way if it means I can share it with you.”
“I feel the same.” She caught her lip in her teeth then, a wicked idea coming over her. “Speaking of our guests, we do have a bit of time before the next train arrives.”
“Say no more.” He kissed her swiftly. “I fear that there is a matter of great import that needs our attention in your bedroom.” He paused, and then, as if he could not resist, kissed her again before continuing, “Immediately.”
“How right you are. We should make haste.” She looped her arm through his, and together, they followed the path through the rose garden with the sun shining down on them and the birds singing above.
EPILOGUE
