“You did far more than that.” He drew her down into a kiss, gentle and sweet. “I love you, Lady Greystone.”
“I love you too, Lord Greystone,” Serena replied, settling once more against his chest as contentment washed over her. “Though I confess I am still growing accustomed to the title.”
“You have the rest of your life to grow used to it.”
“The rest of my life,” she echoed, smiling. “I like the sound of that.”
They lay together in companionable silence, the candles burning low, the night stretching peacefully around them. Serena listened to Nathaniel’s heartbeat—steady, strong, irrevocably hers—and allowed herself to drift.
She had never known peace like this. Never known the quiet, profound joy of being precisely where she belonged, with the one person she was meant to be with. For many years, she had moved through the world like a shadow—present, yet untethered, belonging nowhere.
Now she was anchored.
Now she had roots.
Now she was home.
“Nathaniel?”
“Mmm?”
“This house—Greystone Hall—it feels different now. Warmer. As though it has finally awakened.”
“It has,” he murmured, his voice heavy with contentment. “You awakened it, Serena. You awakened all of us.”
“That is a rather extravagant claim.”
“It is a true one.” He shifted, drawing her closer. “This house was fading when you arrived. We all were—quietly, slowly, without knowing it. And then you came, with your sharp tongue and generous heart, and you breathed life back into us.”
Tears pricked at Serena’s eyes. “I was only doing my duty.”
“You were doing far more than that. You were loving us—even when we did not deserve it, even when we tried to push youaway.” His arms tightened around her. “That is your gift, Serena. To love fiercely and without reserve. It is the most extraordinary thing about you.”
“I had thought my most extraordinary quality was my devastating wit.”
“That as well,” he said, smiling. “You are a woman of many talents. I should be a fool not to admire them all.”
“Flattery again.”
“Is that a complaint?”
“Merely an observation.” Serena pressed a kiss to his chest. “Go to sleep, husband. Tomorrow, we begin our new life.”
“Our new life.” He sighed, the sound rich with contentment. “I like the sound of that.”
Within minutes, his breathing deepened into the slow, even rhythm of sleep. Serena lay awake a little longer, listening to the quiet settling of the house around them, feeling the warmth of his body at her side.
She was a marchioness now. Lady Greystone. Mistress of this ancient house, wife to a man she loved beyond reason, and—if not a mother—then something very like one to three children who had claimed her heart.
It was more than she had ever dared to dream.
And it was only the beginning.
***
One Year Later
Morning light streamed through the windows of the marchioness’s chambers, casting soft, golden rectangles across the floor.
