THEDUKE ANDDuchess of Ithwick, the Duke and Duchess of Ashbey, and the Duke of Hurtheven trudged in an uneven line toward a mountain at the very center of Hurtheven’s extensive grounds.
Hurtheven, of course, led their party of five.
And, though they were miles from any navigable water and even further from the sea, Hurtheven carried an oar.
Cheverley smiled as Alicia tucked her arm beneath Ashbey’s. Ash subtly tilted towards his wife.
Ash and Alicia were happy.
Trulyhappy.
And—Cheverley threaded his fingers through Penelope’s hand—so were he and his duchess.
He stretched out his injured arm as they walked. Occasionally his phantom fingers fisted. But not today.
“Tell me why we have to plant an oar again?” Ash asked Hurtheven.
“Because Cheverley is Poseidon,” Alicia answered.
Hurtheven glanced over his shoulder and scowled.
“Hardly a secret society, Ash, if you tell your wife all about it.”
Ashbey shrugged. “No secrets.”
“No secrets,” Chev echoed.
Hurtheven made a sound of disgust. “If that’s what marriage means, Lord spare me a woman’s love.”
“I think he already has,” Ash pointed out.
Hurtheven grunted. Cheverly snorted. Alicia sent Penelope a significant glance over her shoulder.
“Boys,” she said with a heavenward glance.
“ChevisPoseidon,” Hurtheven explained. But we are planting an oar at the base of my mountain because that’s what Odysseus is told he must do to placate Poseidon.”
“Ah, well,” Ash said wryly, “noweverything makes perfect sense.”
“Hurtheven is mad,” Chev reminded. “He’s always been mad.”
“And,” Ash sent Chev a significant glance, “you waited until we dragged our wives to this mountain to remind me?”
“You know,” Penelope interjected, “I’m all for fulfilling the prophecy.”
Chev lifted a brow.
Penelope shrugged. “Well it cannot hurt, can it? Just in case thereisa sea god and he’s still mad because you survived and stole his thunder.”
“Thunder belongs to Zeus.” Hurtheven corrected. “But other than that, you are right. Considering all that’s happened, I decided we cannot be too safe.”
“What exactly was the prophecy?” Ash asked.
Hurtheven glanced rather wistfully at Penelope. “When the oar Odysseus brings is planted by a people who do not know the sea, then the curse will be ended, and Odysseus and Penelope will grow old and happy together.”
“Hurtheven’s gesture is sweet,” Penelope said. “If you think about it.”
“I’mnotsweet.” Hurtheven lifted his brows. “I’m practical.”
