Page 77 of The Madame Catches Her Duke

Yes, they would tell the duchess what she’d longed to hear for many years, but first, Marce would show Rowan how much she loved him.

Epilogue

Rowan stood before his childhood home, staring up at its ancient Tudor facade and far-reaching wings as if seeing the structure for the first time—through the eyes of another. In this case, his betrothed’s four siblings and the twins’ spouses. Their delight and enchantment with Hadlow Estate was evident from the moment they turned onto the long drive leading from the main road to halt before the massive double doors.

“You could run a carriage and four through that door,” the tall, dark-haired, young woman—Payton—gushed, making Rowan smile in agreement. “You wouldn’t even scratch the edges, I dare say.”

“I can tell you that I have yet to try that, though I suppose my stable master would have my hide if I tried, not to mention what a grievous offense my butler would take to the action,” Rowan replied.

“I cannot imagine living in a place as grand as this,” one of the auburn-haired twins sighed.

Rowan could not, as yet, tell the pair—Jude and Sam—apart, except for when their husbands stood at their sides. Jude’s husband, Lord Cartwright, was a peculiar gentleman indeed, while Samantha’s husband was eccentric yet not beyond normal conversation.

“I was certain you would overlook missing the Stratford Academia gathering in Warwickshire for Marce’s nuptials.” There was no teasing tone in Lady Cartwright’s voice.

“You are correct, my dear wife,” Cartwright stepped next to the woman and wrapped his arm around her waist, answering Rowan’s question as to whom the sister was. “I relish the chance to examine the structural integrity of this monstrosity.”

“Thankfully, I was in need of a stay away from London,” Miss Payton chimed in again.

“Managed to amass another mound of gaming debts?” Lord Garrett poked at his youngest sibling. “I told Marce we should have confined you to a nunnery long ago.”

“Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you?” Miss Payton said, leaping away from her brother. “Because you cannot win a single hand when I am at the table.”

“A duchess,” Lady Ridgefield muttered. “I can hardly believe it.”

“That Marce is finally to wed, or that her title will outrank yours?” Lady Cartwright shot back with a grin.

“Girls!” The warning in Marce’s tone had the trio of women snapping their mouths shut. “I expect all of you to act accordingly, be polite, and do not, I repeat, do not cause even a breath of trouble. No horses in the house, no spouting ridiculous things about titles, and, by all that’s holy, no card games.”

“We promise,” the women said in unison; however, Rowan noted at least two of them had fingers crossed behind their backs.

The coming fortnight would prove eventful for more than just his marriage to Marce.

Rowan had spent the last several weeks acclimating to the new Marce he’d discovered. She was resilient beyond what he believed, and firm and in control when it came to her family, yet she was also the voice of reason amongst the group. Her siblings did more than obey her, they actually listened and heeded her advice.

Was this the self-assured woman his mother had known all these years? A woman he’d been blind to?

“Apologize to your sister, Garrett.” When Jude giggled at Marce’s admonishment, his betrothed turned her stern frown on her. “And you, Judith, apologize to Samantha.”

“I am having some financial troubles in town,” Payton admitted when Garrett offered his apology.

“And I am a mere marchioness, and Jude was correct, I am envious, dear sister,” Lady Ridgefield admitted.

“You are incorrigible, the lot of you,” Marce said with an exasperated exhale. “But you are mine, and so, I will forgive you all almost anything. However, I will not easily forget if you embarrass me before the duchess.”

“Go on inside and select your rooms. You have your choice of any suite in the west wing,” Rowan called as he pulled Marce to his side. Her siblings rushed past them and up the stairs, entering Hadlow with the excited nature of a group half their ages. “I truly cannot believe you are responsible for raising that lot.”

“How so?” Marce smiled up at him, and all he could think about was settling his lips on hers, carrying her up the stairs of Hadlow to the east wing free of guests, and laying her upon his bed. “Because they are a mismatched, wayward group?”

“No.” Rowan shook his head, for a moment thinking he had offended her. “Despite the hardships your family faced, they have all kept a certain innocence about them.”

“Perhaps I kept them from witnessing the cruelty of the world—” She paused, her smile broadening, making his heart twist. “Though that means they missed some of the best of things, as well.”

“Like what?” He couldn’t help but ask, his breath hitching in his chest as he awaited her answer, though he knew what she would say. She’d been repeating it for many months now, as if he’d ever forget what she tried every day to make him believe.

That he deserved happiness.

“You.” She rose to her tiptoes and kissed him, her mouth leaving his far too soon.