A Masquerade in the Moonlight - By Kasey Michaels Page 0,156
and Sir Gilbert, Finch, and Dooley had retired once more to their chambers, Marguerite sat on the edge of his bed and watched him try to find a comfortable position in which his side did not pain him.
“This will never work! This bed might as well be made of rocks for all the rest I’m getting, and I haven’t slept in so long I think I’ve forgotten how,” he exclaimed testily, pushing himself up against the pillows. “Come here, aingeal. If I can’t sleep, we might as well talk.”
She did as he asked, lying down beside him beneath the coverlet, her head on his chest. “What would you like to talk about, Donovan? Or do you merely wish to apologize once more for saying all those terrible things to Laleham?”
“You’re going to make me pay for that for a long, long time, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
She smiled. “Years, and years, and years, Donovan. You can count on it.”
His chest moved beneath her as he chuckled softly. “What was it your grandfather said, darlin’? Willful? Stubborn? Yes. But there was another one. Now what was it? Ah, I remember now! You have the temper of a hedgehog! That was it, wasn’t it, my love? Maybe he’s right. Maybe I should be putting a little more thought into this business of marriage. After all, I’m only a young man—little more than a lad, actually—with places to go, things to do—”
“There’s still two loaded pistols lying on the desk in Grandfather’s study, Donovan,” she reminded him, lifting her head to look up into his laughing blue eyes.
He traced her smile with the tip of his finger. “Neither one of us will ever get in the last word, will we, aingeal? We’ll still be spitting and clawing while our grandchildren toddle around at our knees.”
“And still loving, Thomas,” she pointed out, snuggling against him. “Never forget the loving.” She waited a moment, believing he’d say something, then realized his breathing had become deep and even.
He was sound asleep, the poor lamb. As she should be. In her own chamber. In her own bed. Mrs. Billings would certainly say so. Heaven only knew Maisie would say so. Convention dictated it. The whole, entire world demanded it. Yes. She should get up, get out, and behave like a good English miss. That was exactly what she should do.
Marguerite sighed, shrugged one shoulder in dismissal of all that Billie and Maisie and the world might say, then cuddled more closely against her beloved—her most wonderful Thomas Joseph Donovan—and closed her eyes.
EPILOGUE
AN ETERNAL
FLAME
It matters not what you are thought to be, but what you are.
— Publicus Syrus
Love is not in our choice, but in our fate.
— John Dryden
PHILADELPHIA
1811
“Oh, Thomas—isn’t the night beautiful?”
Marguerite twirled round and round on the gently rolling hillside of the estate they had rechristened Little Chertsey, holding out her colorful Gypsy skirts, her bare feet skimming over the dew-wet grass as she danced in the moonlight, just as she had on her wedding day a full year earlier, feeling free and unfettered, and very, very loved.
She collapsed, laughing, onto her knees on the blanket as Thomas applauded her efforts, then lay on her back, her breasts heaving as she tried to catch her breath.
“Hoyden,” Thomas scolded teasingly, leaning over her, his hand resting lightly on her still flat belly, the sleeve of his snowy white Gypsy shirt visible in the moonlight. “You’ll have to put an end to this sort of romping once our baby is born.”
She shook her head, loving the feeling of her unbound hair as it pressed against her cheeks. She was soon to be a mother! The thought was exhilarating, and humbling at the same time. There was so much to teach a child, so much to learn from that child. “No, I won’t. We’ll just bring him up here with us, to dance and sing and lie on our backs while we watch the stars.”
“And look for the body of the man in the moon?” Thomas asked, beginning to nuzzle her throat, his warm breath tickling her so that she giggled again.
“Possibly, Thomas,” she answered, slipping her arms up and around his shoulders. “Grandfather and Finch will tell him about England and our home in Chertsey, Paddy will stuff him full of tales about Ireland and leprechauns, but we two will be the ones to bring him up here and tell him all about the man who lives in the moon.”
“What will we say, aingeal?”
Marguerite sighed, pulling his head down so that it rested against her breast. “Ah, Donovan,” she said, using his name as an endearment, “we’ll tell him to look for the obvious, yes, but also for that which is concealed. We’ll teach him to look carefully, look deeply, to see the goodness, and the flaws as well. And then—”
“Ah, indeed, sweetheart,” Thomas interrupted, raising his head once more, and gazing deeply, lovingly, into her eyes. “And then?”
“And then, my darling husband,” she answered solemnly, “we will teach him how to look again, through the eyes of love. As you were so intelligent to do when we first met. As we both do now. Isn’t that right?”
Thomas smiled, gently stroking her cheek so that she shivered deliciously, savoring his closeness, faintly shocked that, after all this time, he could still arouse her so easily. And then he kissed her, and she gave herself up to the night, and the moon, and the man who would hold her heart into eternity.
~~ The End ~~
Thank you for reading A Masquerade in the Moonlight. For more information about upcoming titles visit me on my website: www.KaseyMichaels.com
Kasey Michaels
Kasey Michaels began her career scribbling her stories on yellow legal pads while the family slept. She totally denies she chiseled them into flat rocks, but yes, she began her career a long time ago. Now Kasey is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than 110 books (she doesn't count them). Kasey has received four coveted Starred Reviews from Publishers Weekly, three for historical romance, The Secrets of the Heart, The Butler Did it, and The Taming of a Rake, and for the contemporary romance Love To Love You Baby (that shows diversity, you see). She is a recipient of the RITA, a Waldenbooks and Bookrak Bestseller award, and many awards from Romantic Times magazine, including a Career Achievement award for her Regency era historical romances. She is an Honor Roll author in Romance Writers of America, Inc., and is a past president of Novelists, Inc. (NINC), the only international writers organization devoted solely to the needs of multi-published authors. Please visit Kasey on her website at www.KaseyMichaels.com.