Ellis sucked in a breath, her eyes glowing with surprise and joy. Roman delighted in how happy she was.
“I don’t know what to say.” Ellis beamed at the Laceys, then at Roman.
“I say it’s well deserved,” Henlow replied proudly.
Ellis met Henlow’s gaze. “Thank you for believing in me and supporting me when others would not.”
Roman knew she thought of the duke as a surrogate father in ways that she would never consider Rowland Harker. They had not invited Harker to the wedding but had glimpsed him loitering outside the church when they’d left. Time would tell if he lived up to his promise, and, truthfully, they weren’t paying close attention, nor did they plan to.
“Are you ready for me to make the announcement?” Roman asked.
Ellis nodded. “Though, you needn’t make a fuss.”
Henlow looked at her with mock admonishment. “My dear, you must become accustomed to fuss. You are the Marchioness of Keele now, and there will be much fuss over you from now on.”
Ellis laughed. “I will try.”
Roman took her hand and gave it a squeeze, then turned to address the room. “I have an announcement to make,” he said loudly. “Lacey and Company is proud to announce the appointment of our new secretary, Lady Keele. May we all lift our glasses and toast to the extreme good fortune of Lacey and Company to have such an amazing woman in this role.”
He lifted his glass, and there was a round of huzzahs.
“We didn’t all have drinks,” Ellis said.
Roman quickly handed her his port. She met his eyes over the rim of the glass as she took a sip. There was something seductive about the way her lips pressed against the glass, and Roman had to steel himself against becoming aroused. Now was not the time.
“When can we leave?” he whispered.
She laughed at him as she handed the port back. “Not for a while yet. You’ll have your time alone with me, my lord.” Her eyes gleamed with promise. “All the time you could ever want.”
He shook his head and gazed at her with overwhelming love and gratitude. “Forever wouldn’t be enough.”
Epilogue
Westlands, June, 1817
* * *
Ellis and Roman were thrilled to become an aunt and uncle in early January when Jo and Sheff welcomed their daughter, Elinor. They’d all spent the holidays at Beacon Park together, including Min and Evan, so they’d been present for Elinor’s arrival on Epiphany. To a one, they were completely enamored.
Then they were delighted to journey to Winterstoke, the Somerton family seat, in Wiltshire in early June to meet Gwen and Lazarus’s new son, who’d been born in April. Felix, named for Lazarus’s beloved father, was as much of a charmer as his own father.
They’d stayed a week, not wishing to overstay their welcome and knowing they would all be together soon in August when everyone planned to be in Weston for their annual summer holiday. The Grove, the Duke of Henlow’s house there, would be overflowing with Ellis and Roman, Min and Evan, and of course Jo and Sheff and sweet Elinor, whom they all called Ellie. Her name was a nod to Ellis, which made her heart even fuller, if that was possible. Then, just when she thought she could not be happier, something happened to prove she absolutely could be.
Today was another such day.
Ellis practically skipped down the wide staircase at Westlands, the Keele family seat. Located between Birmingham and Manchester, the manor house was a large rectangle with a central courtyard, originally built in the late seventeenth century and improved twice. The most recent renovation had set the family on its path to ruin as Roman’s grandfather had incurred great debt to modernize the house. Ellis still couldn’t quite believe she was mistress there.
They’d been at Westlands a fortnight, and Ellis was already in love with the retainers and the tenants on the estate. She’d never imagined a life like this, and every day had to remind herself that this was real.
Roman also did his part to ensure she never forgot.
Smiling, she went in search of him, for today’s exceptionally wonderful news was entirely for him. As expected, she found him in the large study, which was set in the corner of the ground floor overlooking a magnificent garden currently bursting with color from dozens of roses in full bloom.
When they’d first arrived, Ellis had been surprised—and touched—to see that the study had been refurbished to include two desks so they could continue to work together. The desks were pushed together so that they faced each other. It could be quite distracting, but thankfully the study was also furnished with a large chaise longue and a lock on the door.
Ellis leaned against the doorjamb as she watched Roman work. His quill scratched over the parchment as he focused intently on whatever he was doing. She would never tire of just observing him. She’d never known anyone more dedicated or committed to his work and to the purpose he’d set himself—to leave his family’s legacy in far better condition than in which he’d inherited it.
A large part of that, he said, was marrying Ellis. He told her repeatedly that she had already improved the family to a level not before seen. He was incorrigibly and unapologetically romantic. Ellis could not have asked for a better husband.
