“What are your revelations?” Eoin asked as he reached up to run his hands through her flyaway strands. Tenderness and ferocious need warred inside him.
“That I can accomplish much good as a duchess—your duchess.” Hannah cupped his face with her right hand, and her thumb gently stroked across his cheekbone. “I believe in the vision that you have for your estates, and I can take pride in helping you bring it to fruition. My cousins have assured me that they can run the Black Sheep in my absence.”
Eoin trembled, undone by both her touch and her words. “You will make me a better duke, Hannah. You already have.”
“And I will be sure to remind you of that.” Hannah shot him an impish look, which quickly melted into something much sultrier but no less mischievous. “I think we’ve had enough of practicality… at least for the moment.”
Before Eoin had a chance to respond, Hannah pressed her lips against his. Any lingering shred of rationality burst into iridescent flame. His mouth eagerly worked against hers.
This wasn’t just a kiss. It was a homecoming.
Despite how interlocked they’d been before, they still managed to press closer together. He swore he could hear her very heartbeat, and that it was as gloriously rapid as his own. His hands trailed down her shoulders, while her fingers explored his.
He could never get sated. He needed to feel her, to assure himself that this was real. He wasn’t alone anymore. He had a helpmate, a partner, a sweetheart.
Hannah leaned back, and he almost moaned in protest. But then he heard her words. Those three short yet all-encompassing words.
“I love you.”
He thought he was already consumed by fire for her, and there was no kindling left. He was wrong. Somehow, more heat flared through him until he felt utterly incandescent.
“I love you, too, Miss Hannah Wick… my soon-to-be duchess.” He pressed a kiss against her nose—a lighthearted gesture that he could never have imagined making before he met Hannah. She had utterly and completely transformed him.
“And you are my thoughtful, kindhearted duke—the only one who could ever convince me to become a bloody nob.”
Epilogue
Approximately a year Later
I wonder if we should start offering the Black Sheep as a venue for wedding breakfasts?” Hannah mused aloud as, despite her voluminous wedding gown, she wedged herself between Sophia and Charlotte on a settee that should truly fit just two.
“This is yourownwedding day,” Sophia chided her. “You shouldn’t be thinking about the coffeehouse!”
“It is always the time to consider business.” Hannah reached forward and popped a sugar-coated almond into her mouth. “Do you think Alexander will agree to plan them for us? He did such a brilliant job on yours, Charlotte, and now mine.”
“I believe the anxiety would destroy his sanity.” Charlotte waved her hand in the direction of her brother, who was nervously guarding the cake. Although Pan had been plied with fruits, his amber eyes kept focusing on the delicacy. Not to mention the presence of a monkey, a terrier, an extremely fluffy rooster, and a full-grown goose.
“Alexander is also consumed by his duties as a duke,” Sophia pointed out. “How many new reforms are he and your new husband championing in Parliament, three? No, four, isn’t it?”
“It may soon be five. Alexander wants to push for a cruelty-against-animals prevention act,” Hannah said. “He and Eoin were discussing it two evenings ago.”
“Matthew mentioned it as well,” Charlotte said. “If they have success with stopping bearbaiting and cock and dog fights, he’s hoping that they could propose measures to help the Scottish wildcat.”
“The three of them are always trying to find supporters when they stop by for coffee.” Sophia shook her head. “I never thought the Black Sheep would be at the center of parliamentary work.”
“It has changed since when my parents first opened the doors.” A rare surge of sentimentality tore through Hannah, although she supposed she was extra emotional today. Still, she hadn’t expected to feel tears prick the backs of her eyes. She glanced around the comfortable back room and imagined how it had looked three days ago when she was last serving coffee. “Papa, at least, never would have imagined that fine ladies would be clamoring to gain entrance, or that they’d be so willing to sit and chat with actresses and seamstresses.”
“Not to mention female boxers,” Charlotte added, using her chin to nod at Championess Wick and Lizzie, who were chatting with a few of their fighters. Peter stood close to the women, eagerly listening to the conversation. Their amphitheater had only exploded in popularity once their identities had been revealed to the public. Everyone wanted to watch the sister of a duke take to the ring.
The populace was even more scandalized to learn that the Duke of Foxglen’s fiancée was the proprietress of a coffeehouse. The fact that she intended to retain ownership had caused even more heart palpitations among the nobs. They’d been even more aflutter when she and Eoin had welcomed Peter, an orphan from the stews, into their home and educated him.
But Hannah found that she cared naught for the rumors. In fact, she rather liked inspiring a rush of whispers whenever she entered a ballroom. After all, it resulted in more customers the next day at the Black Sheep.
“There is my bride!” Eoin strolled over, his face no longer indifferent but beaming. The man hadn’t stopped smiling since she’d walked down the aisle, but then again, neither had Hannah.
Oh, how she loved her husband. The past year had only assured her of that. True to his word, Eoin had made every effort to arrange his schedule so that they could spend the maximum amount of time in London. And he’d included Hannah in his plans for improving the lives of his tenants.
“You two are the most radiant couple!” Calliope observed as she wandered over. Méibh—who was waddling at Eoin’s side—hissed at her. Although Méibh had eventually learned to accept Hannah’s presence near Eoin, she relentlessly guarded him against all others.
