to me because she thought you might burn them before you read the contents.”
Beatrix snorted. “That’s the smartest thing Deborah has ever said.”
“If you don’t want to read them, you don’t have to, but they contain apologies. At least that’s what she wrote in my letter. Along with an apology to me and to Rafe.”
Rafe whistled through his teeth. “Do you think she means them?”
Anne lifted a shoulder. “Does it matter? It’s not as if we’re going to invite her to dinner.”
There was a beat of silence before everyone laughed.
Beatrix marched to the fireplace and tossed the unopened letter onto the cold hearth. Selina joined her and followed suit.
“Aren’t you even a little bit curious what she said?” Anne asked. “She was quite obsequious in her letter to me.”
Selina and Beatrix exchanged a look, then giggled. “Well, then, perhaps we should read them,” Beatrix said. “Later.” She bent to retrieve them and set them on the mantel.
As Rafe surveyed the room, he didn’t think his heart could be any more full. This was the life he’d always wanted, the life he wasn’t sure he would ever have.
Everyone discussed the portrait, and the housekeeper came in so Rafe and Selina were able to thank her. At length, everyone but Rafe and Anne left until they planned to reconvene for dinner.
Anne moved closer to him on the settee and leaned against his chest. “I’m so glad they found the portrait. Your family is so lovely.”
“Does it make you sad?” he asked quietly, thinking of how her mother had come to London for their wedding, but not her father.
She turned her head to glance up at him. “Why? Because my family is not quite so lovely?” She settled back against him. “No, I’m not sad. My mother apologized and made up with Jane. That’s all I wanted.”
Rafe wrapped his arm around her middle. “And your father?”
“He’ll either come around or…he won’t. But that’s his concern, not mine. I am quite satisfied with my choices.” So was Jane with hers. Their mother had felt horrible about the way they’d treated Jane and about the expectations they’d thrust upon Anne. That both her daughters had ended up happily wed was a gift for which she was most grateful. Her joy—and contrition—had been clear.
After several minutes, Anne turned her body so she could look at Rafe, nestling against his side. “You’ve gone quiet.”
“I can’t stop staring at the portrait.” He and Selina had spent the better part of the last hour studying it intently, as if it could reveal the answers to all their questions. “I want it to talk to me, but I know it can’t.”
“Really? I think it does.” Anne cocked her head. “It tells me your parents adored you—the way your mother is glancing toward you as she holds Selina so close. Your father’s grip on your shoulder and his loving smile. I can also hear, quite clearly, how much you loved those dogs.”
Rafe couldn’t help laughing, and it felt so good. “I’d forgotten about them. Yes, I loved them. I wanted them to sleep with me, but Mama said no. Papa let them anyway—once or twice.” He remembered their soft coats.
Anne rested her head on his shoulder. “Would you like a pair of dogs, my lord?”
“I think I would.”
“Excellent. When we have a son and daughter of our own, we’ll have a portrait painted just like this one.”
Rafe put his arm around her and kissed her head as a lock of her hair came free. He would never tire of her optimism and her fierce confidence that she would achieve all she wanted. “I suppose we should exert some effort toward having a son or daughter.”
She tipped her head back and arched a brow at him. “I think we exert plenty of effort.” Pressing her hand against his chest, she slid it up beneath his cravat. “On second thought, I think we can do better. I’m up to the challenge. Are you?”
He leapt from the settee and swept her into his arms. She let out a happy cry that was part gasp and part giggle.
“Let me show you how up I am.” He kissed her soundly as she curled her hands around his neck.
She sighed as he carried her from the room. “Do hurry.”
He doubled his pace toward the stairs. “As you command, my lady.”
Rafe feared his heart would burst with love, and he knew with sudden clarity that for the first time in twenty-seven years, he was safe.
He was home.
Ready for