Epilogue
Head thrown back, Tillyswung through the air, watching leaves and branches rush past above. She now knew that swinging wasn’t as invigorating as riding at a gallop, but she still enjoyed the activity. Especially on this swing. James had added it to the garden at their country manor, outside his office window, just for her.
She fought a blush. Well, maybe not just for her. He seemed to enjoy her swinging, too. She didn’t dare look toward his window to see if he watched. If she saw him at the window, blue eyes alight, she would go to him. It was such a bright, glorious summer day, the air soft about her, that she really did want to swing for a bit longer.
Tilly couldn’t understand why her sister hated the country. Prudence’s dislike could be because she hated everything wonderful. Or it could simply be because Lord Erwin’s ancestral lands weren’t as lovely as James’s. Tilly had never seen them to make the comparison, and didn’t seem likely to. Prudence had stopped speaking to her the moment Tilly and James were betrothed. Nor had she written. Tilly didn’t mind. Silence was the best wedding gift her sister could have offered.
She leaned back farther, closed her eyes and drank in the sensation of flying. For her part, Tilly loved their country home. The countryside possessed everything London lacked. Sunlit blue skies, sparkling clear water, rolling hills and endless space. In some places, not a building in sight.
“You know I have work to do.”
Tilly opened her eyes and sat up. James strode toward her across the deep green patch of lawn separating the massive maple from the manor house.
“I’m not keeping you from your work,” Tilly called, unable to suppress a grin as she slowed the swing.
“You certainly are.” His gaze followed her back and forth motion in the swing as he drew nearer. “How can I be expected to work when you insist on this extravagant display of legs?”
She stopped the swing, molding her features into mock surprise. “You’ve been looking at my legs?”
He halted before her. “Looking at them. Dreaming about them.”
Tilly smiled up at him. “You’re a wicked man to say such things.”
“Am I?” He placed his hands above hers on the ropes of the swing and stepped closer.
“Yes, and even more wicked for every moment you make me wait for a kiss.”
He leaned down, a spark gleaming deep in his eyes. “Well, we can’t have that. I wouldn’t want my Tilly married to a wicked man.”
Their lips met. Tilly let go of the swing and twined her arms about his neck. She would never stop being amazed how lucky she was to have someone so wonderful in her life.
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