For a moment, Michael was stunned into silence. Then, pulling her to her feet, he wrapped his arms round her and swung her in a full circle with a shout of pure joy.
“Truly? Oh, Luce… my darling! We are going to be a family!”
“You are not cross? I was afraid you might be, since I will have to stay close to home from now on. I cannot abandon a child, not when it took six years to conceive this one and there might not be another, and even you cannot expect me to take a baby about the country looking for murderers.”
“No, but this solves a problem that I have been pondering for a little while now,” he said, still holding her close. “I have been wondering whether it is time for me to settle down myself. Not retiring exactly, but leaving the more active side of things to younger men. Sandy is turning out to be very adept, do you not think? So I shall settle down at Rudgewood House with you and put my experience to use in training men to investigate, rather than doing the investigating myself. I can teach fencing, gun use, boxing, tracking, how to interview people, how to examine the site of a crime and so on. Pettigrew can teach them the law, what they can and cannot do, and Neate can teach them to pick locks and how to move about unnoticed. How does that sound?”
“Very good, except that I would advise you to teach a few women, too. A woman can talk to other women, and move about shops easily. Men are better in tap rooms and coffee houses.”
“An excellent point. I can initiate cases, but I will not undertake anything dangerous myself. No more drainpipes.”
“Will you be able to resist?” she said, smiling at him.
“I will have all the motivation I need to do so. A child needs a father and a stable home life, and that is what I intend to provide for our son… or daughter. AndIneedyou, so you may believe me when I say that I shall not stray far from your side.”
“Oh Michael!” For a moment, she leaned her forehead against his as he held her tight. “It all sounds a bit tame. You will be bored.”
“Not at all. I shall spend my days playing with swords and guns, and who could be bored with that? I shall still travel a little to set up new investigations, but none of these jobs with no foreseeable end. Truly, Luce, I came close to giving up this investigation several times recently. It grows wearisome after a while. I am happy to leave the heroics to others.”
“You will always be my hero,” she said softly.
“And that is exactly as it should be,” he said. “A man should be a hero to his wife, and a wife should be a shining beacon of joy to her husband. As you are, my love.”
“Oh, Michael,” she breathed, “you aretalkingto me. As a husband talks to his wife.”
“As a man talks to the woman he loves,” he whispered. “Impending fatherhood can do that to a man, it seems. It can break the dam of silence, and loose the words of… well, of love. Because I do love you, Luce. You know that, I am sure.”
“I do, but you have never said it before. Perhaps you will never say it again, but I shall treasure this moment forever, my love.”
He reached up to kiss her, and for a long time they stood immobile, wreathed in pure bliss.
Eventually, she sighed, but said, “This is very pleasant, husband, but we should get on the road soon, or we will not reach our overnight stop before dusk.”
“Very well. If we must. Let us go and collect poor Miss Wilkes and be on our way.”
Epilogue
LONDON: THE FOLLOWING JUNE
There were few houses in London large enough to boast a ballroom, but the residence of the Earl of Kiltarlity was one of them. By some quirk of land division, the house had an unusually large garden, and an ambitious ancestor had contrived to squeeze in a proper ballroom, not the usual two or three rooms with doors thrown wide that most were able to manage. It was not the largest ballroom in town but it was more than adequate for the purpose.
Robert had promised his sisters two balls during the season, and the first, a modest affair, had passed off tolerably well in the early days of the season when there were few competing events. Now it was time for a greater challenge — a grand ball in the height of the season, when every night was filled with other enticing occasions. His mother had planned the occasion with military precision, and Lizzie and Lucy had joined in withenthusiasm. There was nothing for Robert to do but play the part of genial host on the night.
He felt the usual frisson of excitement before a ball. Not for the occasion itself, for he had been a part of London society for more than ten years now and the novelty of an endless procession of shiny-eyed debutantes fresh from the country had long since worn off. Since his older brothers had died and left him the heir to the earldom, he had lost much of his interest in the usual entertainments of the season. As often as not, he had arrived late to an event, lounged at the side of the room for a while and then, bored, retreated to the card room.
But now… oh, now there was Olivia! Whatever event she attended, there he would be, too, catching her eye across a packed room at a rout, waving to her at the theatre, fetching her an endless supply of cake at a Venetian breakfast or riding beside her carriage on outings. And at a ball, he had the joy of dancing with her, sharing secret smiles and delighting in the touch of her hand when the movement brought them together. And she kept her word to save the supper dance for him, so he was then able to take her in to supper. Half an hour or sometimes a whole hour sitting beside her, drinking in her lovely face and making her laugh with his teasing, watching her blush when he hinted, very subtly, at his affection for her.
Affection! Such an inadequate word. Fondness… no, that was worse. Love. Devotion. Adoration. Idolisation. That was closer. Every moment spent with her was precious to him.
Yet he had found it almost impossible to spend an entire ball with her. It was difficult enough waiting impatiently for his own share of her attention, but watching her dance with other partners was a peculiar form of torture that twisted his insides with painful intensity. He agonised over every expression on her lovely face. Was she smiling more than usual at that one, or laughing at a jest by another one? Was she more enthusiasticwith another partner than she was with him? It almost drove him mad. He had taken to arriving later and later, arriving just in time for his own dance with her, staying only for supper and then leaving as soon as he decently could. It was less heart-rending that way.
But tonight he was the host, so he would be there from the first arrival until the last merry reveller staggered away home, and he was not sure he could bear it.
The Athertons were early arrivals, having dined together and then proceeded to the ball in several carriages. The butler, relishing his rôle, made the announcement in stentorian tones.
“Lord and Lady Rennington, Lord and Lady Farramont, Lord and Lady Woodridge, Mr and Mrs Bertram Atherton, Mr Lucas Atherton, Mr and Mrs Walter Atherton, Miss Olivia Atherton.”
Robert supposed he said the proper words to each of them, but he only had eyes for Olivia. She looked enchanting tonight in a cream coloured gown that sparkled in the candlelight, and tiny white flowers threaded through her hair.
