The two of them were laughing together when the salon door flew open.
Grey was prepared for almost any kind of reaction. Not the one he got, though. Two little girls stood like statues in the doorway holding hands and frowning. He thought hisheart would burst. They were thinner, far more solemn. He knew, seeing them then, that he had spent his last moment disappearing on behalf of the Crown. He had more important things to do right here.
“It’s all right,” Georgie said, her hand out to the girls, “he’s a bit banged up, but it is your Uncle Grey.”
Still, they didn’t move. And then Bark nudged them out of the way to gallop across the room. Everyone yelled a warning, but the massive dog skidded to a halt right at Grey’s feet. And he sat, his head to the side as if he, too, were evaluating the pile of splints and bandages on his couch.
Finally, finally at seeing the dog’s quizzical look, Amelia let go of her sister’s hand and stepped forward. She tilted her own head.
“Uncle Grey,” she said, sounding suspiciously like a displeased governess. “Why aren’t you dead?”
Grey didn’t know whether he was closer to laughing or simply melting at her feet. “Because I had to get back to my three favorite girls, that’s why.”
The answering silence was a long one, born, Grey knew, of harsh experience.
“And I have decided something,” he said. “I will never leave you again. If I must go somewhere, everyone goes along. Or I do not go.”
Again, that silent consideration.
“Not ever?” Sophie demanded finally.
Very carefully, he shook his head. “Not ever.”
Still, he suffered their careful consideration. He found himself clutching Georgie’s hand like a lifeline, his breath held for the judgment of two little girls. Until finally, they looked at each other and smiled.
“Well, that’s all right then,” Sophie declared, and Grey knew she had declared them a family.
He couldn’t wait to find out what that meant. He knew, though, when his girls very carefully wrapped him and Georgie in a laughing embrace, that they finally believed it. He could do no less. Nor could he want to.
EPILOGUE
“You’re sure about this.”
Grey tightened his hold on his wife and dipped his head to inhale the delicious scent of her neck. “Who is sure about anything?” he teased, beginning to let his hands wander over the softly curved body he had been dreaming of for the three months it had taken his various bones and bruises to heal. He’d never have his face back to its former glory, but Georgie didn’t seem to mind. At least she didn’t seem to shy away from his kisses. And oh Lord, had he been enjoying his kisses. Now, he was aboutfinallyto enjoy more.
“The girls are at your parents’?” he asked from somewhere near her collarbone.
She stretched her neck to give him more access. “For two nights.” He could actually feel her grin. “At least.”
“Mrs. Keynes?”
He got a sly smile. “Relocated to her other daughter’s home in York. The stipend you settled on her helped. The girls don’t say anything, but I think they’re relieved.”
“No more relieved than I. And the staff?”
“Have been given the night off. Except Braxton, of course, who lives in fear you will call out for help and he not be tucked in his room. I am free to make whatever lascivious noises I wish.”
It was his turn to grin. “A challenge I cannot refuse. Where shall I deflower you?” he asked. “The desk? The floor? The bed?”
“What about all three? Starting with the bed, I think. I do admit that I have grown fond of the luxury of it.”
He began on the buttons down the back of her gown.
She shivered. “One-handed. You seem awfully practiced at this, sir.”
He refused to be distracted from his task. “Not since setting eyes on you, madame.”
God, her skin was soft, tantalizing, all the way down the sweep of her back. All along the column of her throat, where he could lay his lips against her quickening pulse. Beneath her jaw, where he ran his tongue, just to get the taste of her.
