many doors between myself and my past that I am terrified to open them.”
“I will be there with you,” she urged. “And if you cannot open those doors, perhaps we can open them together. And if they cause you too much pain, we do not have to open them all at once.”
He nodded. “That’s what I needed to hear,” he said. “That I can open them a little bit at a time and free myself because, frankly, I’ve not been able to do so alone. I’ve hidden myself away, parts of myself that I thought were too awful or ugly or broken.”
“We are all awful and ugly at some times,” she said gently. “I have done things I regret.”
“Nothing like I,” he said, not even daring to think too far back.
“But that is only by chance of birth,” she said. “I was born in circumstances, which did not put me in the same position as you. You did the very best you could in the situation you had, and I am so proud of you for not succumbing to the worst part of yourself. Look at how you help people, how you helped my brother, my mother, my family, and all of the people that you do. That is the act of someone who wants more and to do better and to be a good man.”
God, how she saw him? It was like being surrounded in light and warmth.
“I love you, Mary,” he breathed, feeling completely free once the words left his lips.
“And I, you, with all my heart.” She beamed at him. “I love you for all the things you have done, for all the struggle you’ve overcome. I love you for being you. Let us choose each other, and let us make this world a better place.”
At that, he could no longer bear it. He crossed the room and took her into his arms. “Thank God you came to me that night,” he said against her soft locks. “Thank God you were bold.”
“And thank God,” she said, “that you wanted to help me be even more bold.”
“Thank you for believing that I deserve a family, your family.”
“We are very eager to welcome you,” she said, holding him tight.
“So, I can see,” he laughed. “I am most amazed by your mother.”
“She is a woman of parts,” Mary said proudly.
“Just as you are,” he said.
“Yes, just as I am.”
“And our children?” he began, barely daring to believe he wasn’t dreaming.
“Our children should be lucky to be surrounded by so much love,” she said.
And with that, he lowered his mouth and kissed her, knowing that whatever might come, they would be together and that they would love each other, not despite whatever travails came their way, but because of them.
Epilogue
One Year Later
The crowd at the table paid no heed to the etiquette of a polite meal. Oh, no, those who attended dinner at the Blackstone townhouse knew there would be much conversation, laughter, and good cheer. . . And one would never speak strictly to one dining companion per course.
And one always sat next to their spouse.
The rules of polite society be damned.
Mary turned to her husband, who sat beside her, transformed.
The darkness would never leave him. She knew that, but his eyes now shone with new purpose.
Gently, as he spoke to her mother, he touched Mary’s swelling belly. It did not matter if this was done or not. Her husband did as he liked, and society liked him for it. He’d all but conquered the ton.
Oh, the gambling club was still alive and well. The funds from it were too valuable. For with them, Heath could fund too many good works. But he was equally careful to look out for men on the edge now. Men who were nearly ruined. And when he could, he stepped in, offering them a path that did not go into darkness. Not everyone took it, but Heath’s place was never the place that drove men into complete darkness.
Not now.
Her mother had had a large hand in that.
And the two were thick as thieves now, arranging for houses for unwed mothers and young women who’d been forced into the bed trade.
They’d also founded three homes for children who were abandoned, and Mary, her mother, and Heath made certain that the children received care and affection as well as a bed and good food.
There were no recriminations and threats. Not in the world they envisioned.
Jamie. . . Wild, untamable, loyal Jamie. . . He’d declared London