“No good.” She smiled. “I have always cared about finding love most of all. It was my first wish, and here you are, granting it.”
“But—” he tried to say.
“A family can be made as long as people love each other. I do not need a child for that. And there are children who need a family out there. I could love one of them, too.” She paused, her smile fading. “The question is, can you still love me even though I cannot give you an heir? Is that the real ‘but’ here?”
Henry propelled himself from the chair, sliding onto the bed and seizing Thalia in his arms. He wrapped her up in his safe embrace, as her arms slipped around him in return, her heart so full she feared they might need to send for Dr. Farnaby again.
He held her as if they had been apart for four years, murmuring against her hair, “What a silly thing to say, my love. What a silly thing to say.” He cradled her closer. “I love you more than anything in the world. I do not care about having an heir, as long as I have you.”
“And I can live without motherhood, so long as I have you,” she whispered in reply, clinging to him. “You are my wish, Henry. You are a dream achieved. I love you. My goodness, how I love you.”
Slowly, he relaxed his hold on her, pulling back so he could gaze down into her eyes. “I love you.” He gently stroked her cheek. “I love you so much, and I shall never waste another moment by being parted from you.”
“So, you will stay?” She smiled mischievously.
He chuckled as he nodded, bringing his head down to hers. “I will stay,” he whispered, grazing a kiss to her lips. “Forever.”
She met his kiss in kind, running her hands over his chest, grasping the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer. He smiled against her mouth as he shuffled further down onto the bed, so he could kiss her better, his arms scooping around her, holding her tight. She relished the feeling of him there beside her, so safe and solid and secure, all of her future hopes and wishes right where she wanted them.
They kissed as if they had spent the past four years together instead of foolishly apart. They kissed as if they knew they had the rest of their lives to revel in one another. They kissed as if to defy anyone to part them, ever again, and even if Thalia could never bear children, she knew that this would be enough.
Hewould be enough, for she had dreamed of him since she was a girl, listening to her mother’s romance stories. And he had found his way out of the pages to her, to turn life into something wonderful. A place where she need never feel alone again.
EPILOGUE
One Year Later…
“Icannot go down there!” Dorothy gasped, her hand to her chest in an obvious attempt to control her breathing. “I cannot do it, Thalia. I fear I am about to expel the contents of my stomach. No, I cannot do this. You must go and tell everyone that I am unwell.”
Stifling a chuckle, Thalia continued her delicate task of sliding white roses into her sister’s hair. “Just think of it like one of Father’s parties, and you will be quite all right.”
“IhateFather’s parties!” Dorothy cried, reaching for a fan to flutter against her face. “The only thing I enjoyed was playing the pianoforte, but I cannot play the pianoforte at my first ever ball! No one would hear it above the orchestra.”
“You can play all you like,” Thalia assured, peeking over her sister’s shoulder to smile. “It does not matter if no one hears you.As long as you are comfortable, that is all that matters. This ball isforyou, after all. Do as you please. What is the worst that can happen?”
Dorothy cast her sister an imploring look through the mirror’s reflection. “Oh, I do not know, maybe they will write terrible things about me in the scandal sheets, and my debut Season will be over before it has even begun. Mylifewill be over before it has even begun.”
“You are the sister of a Duchess, my dearest Dorothy,” Thalia said. “That offers a certain degree of protection from scorn. Not that I think anyone will be anything but complimentary toward you. How could they not be? Look.”
Frowning, Dorothy observed her reflection, her gaze flitting from her own face to Thalia’s. “What?”
“Look how beautiful you are,” Thalia said softly, her hands on her sister’s shoulders.
A shy blush colored the younger woman’s cheeks. “I am plain, Thalia. Quite ordinary.”
“Nonsense, you are exquisite,” Thalia insisted, meaning it.
True, there was a bias between siblings that they had a duty to uphold, but there was no need to exaggerate or fabricate when it came to Dorothy. She was extraordinarily beautiful, endlessly talented, and so kind and sweet that she was almosttooperfect.
In truth, that was Thalia’s primary concern: that her sister’s kindness and sweetness might become a problem now that she was about to garner the attention of society’s gentlemen. Her unwillingness to be rude or direct could be misconstrued as interest, her shyness mistaken for flirtation.
“Do you remember what I said one of my greatest fears was, when I lost my memory?” Thalia asked.
Tilting her head to one side, Dorothy frowned. “I am not sure that I do.”
“It was that I had missed seeing your debut. Forgotten it, anyway.” Thalia pressed a kiss to her sister’s cheek. “I am so glad that I have not missed the privilege of this, and I promise that I will help you in everything. You have nothing to fear. I will be right there beside you.”
She felt her sister’s shoulders relax beneath the squeeze of her hands, a nervous smile curving up the corners of Dorothy’s lips.
