Page 31 of The Wanton Widow


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“I have loved you for so long, I can’t remember a time I didn’t care for you with all my heart. It has been the most difficult and rewarding experience of my life. You challenge my mind, heart and body, and I cannot imagine a more perfect woman to spend the rest of my life with. It doesn’t matter if we have ten children or none, I will love you for eternity. Phoebe Drake, will you marry me?”

“We already signed a contract.”

“I know you wanted a witness. We have one now and a ring.”

She studied his earnest expression and saw the truth in his words. Joshua loved her. Not her dowry, not her business. Her. Yet that old doubt still made her hesitate. Again. She glanced at Iseabail who was openly crying. Probably for the man she lost, the man she would never have, and for her fatherless son. But there was also joy—for her. Iseabail saw Joshua’s love for her because it was that obvious, and her confidence was all the confirmation Phoebe needed.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes,” she said with more confidence. “Yes!” she shouted and Joshua stood up and took her in his arms. Her feet lifted off the floor as he spun her around, her skirts billowing around her ankles as he kissed her resoundingly.She returned his passionate embrace as their tongues danced a familiar, exhilarating waltz she’d only experienced with him.

A loud throat clearing caused them to laugh, their lips still touching as he slowly lowered her to the floor. Yet their reluctance to part left their foreheads together, silly grins of happiness on their faces.

“You must marry at once,” Iseabail declared.

“I agree.” Joshua’s voice held the same conviction of the duchess’s.

“That’s impossible. We leave in the morning.”

“This is Scotland,” Joshua argued.

“I’m aware this is Scotland, but this is ourwedding,” Phoebe implored. She hoped Joshua would understand. Her first wedding had been grand with all the trimmings her parents could imagine, and it meant little. She didn’t want a repeat performance, but she wanted a chapel with a vicar. There were no vicars at Caerlaverock.

He raised his hand to her cheek, his dark eyes melting with understanding. “I will do whatever you wish, Phoebe. Just know that I am anxious to begin the rest of our lives together as husband and wife.”

“The vicar is here, Phoebe,” Iseabail interjected.

She turned to look at her friend. “The vicar is here? But how?”

“I had Paddington send for him because I wanted Xavier to receive his christening while Forrester was still here. I want the two of you to be his Godparents. Would it bother you to have a christening and a wedding on the same day?”

Tears began to fill her eyes. “You want us to be his Godparents?”

“Of course. The duke would have agreed. No one else could be better Godparents for our son than the two of you. Please say yes.”

She looked at Forrester, who seemed more shocked by the request than she was, but he gave her a quick nod, and Phoebe replied, “It would be our honour, but are you certain you want to share such a special day with us?”

“If Nithesdale were here he would threaten Forrester with life and limb if he did not make you his wife at Caerlaverock. So, I must insist on his behalf.”

Phoebe peered back at Joshua who stood patiently waiting for her reply. “Yes,” she said. “I cannot think of a better place to marry the man I love than here, in Nithesdale’s home. It will feel as if he is present, giving his blessing.”

“Phoebe darling, will you do me the honour of becoming my bride tomorrow morning before we journey to Astley’s home?”

More tears flowed down Phoebe’s cheeks and she brushed them away. “I would not have it any other way.”

Joshua pulled her into his arms once more and whispered in her ear. “Then I expect you to be my wanton wife for the rest of our lives.”

“Oh, I plan to be wanton and wicked on our journey because I have a resolution that needs fulfilled.”

“It will bemypleasure as your husband to assist in the endeavor.” Joshua kissed his wanton wife-to-be once more before he picked her up and carried her over the threshold. “We will see you in the church in the morning, Duchess.”

“Are you planning to anticipate your vows?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” they replied together as the door closed behind them.

The duchess smiled at the painting of her husband and tipped over her queen on the chessboard. “It seems you played the endgame very well, Your Grace. They fell into each other’s arms as you predicted. If I didn’t know better, I would say you were nudging them together from beyond the grave.”

As she sat alone in her husband’s bedchamber, the Duchess of Nithesdale was unaware of the guiding force nudging her towardherhappily ever after. Instead, she wept—in sadness and in joy, completely lost in her dreams of a duke.

Epilogue