Yet never the same, always offering another aspect to be discovered. A lifetime in her company will never be long enough. She is a complicated, complex creature worthy of any man’s heart. I have little doubt that in time, you will willingly place yours into her keeping.
You would be a fool, Kingsland, to let her get away. Trust me on this: there is no woman in all of Christendom who would serve better as your duchess.
Respectfully,
Lord Griffith Stanwick
She clutched the letter to her breast, careful not to crush or crinkle it because she intended to keep it with her forever. Kingsland had the right of it. It did belong with her, as did the man who had written it.
“What did Kingsland have to say?”
Turning, she watched her husband take the final few steps toward her. Then his hands were on her hips, and he was drawing her in close.
“He gave me your letter.”
He sighed deeply. “Ah, that poppycock.”
With a smile, she draped one arm around his neck and flattened the other against his chest, right where his heart beat, beat for her. “A year ago, I might have believed that it was all lies, but now I know the truth of it. There is no man in all of Christendom who would serve better as my husband.”
With a low growl, he claimed her mouth as he had claimed her heart, wildly and passionately.
As the sun bade its final farewell to the day, he lifted her into his arms and began carrying her toward the cottage, where memories to be made awaited and dreams would be seized.
Epilogue
Windswept Cottage
Some years later
Standing at the cliff’s edge, with the late morning sunlight bearing down on him, Griff watched as his wife and three young daughters, the eldest eight, waded about in the blue water—wearing naught but their undergarments. But there was no one to see.
His wife gave a little screech, raced back to shore, and the wind carried her laughter up to him. A series of squeals from the girls followed as they all rushed out of the water, lifted their arms to the sun, rose up on their tiny bare toes, and began swaying, like saplings caught in a high wind when a rainstorm was coming. Only no storm was on the horizon. The sun had chased away the morning haze and promised a bright day of reflection off the sparkling sea. As one, they took to twirling, a ritual during which they laughed, smiled, and sometimes sang.
He’d never known such peace or contentment. His angels were all without cares or worries, and he was glad of that. He would do anything to ensure it. For his daughters, he’d already set up trusts. At five and twenty, each would be independent. They could marry if they wished but wouldn’t have to in order to have anything they desired. No conditions would be set upon them.
Even with the best of intentions, Kathryn’s grandmother had nearly damned her to a loveless existence. No, not a loveless existence, merely a marriage. For she would have had his love, if not his name. Always she would have possessed his love. But now she had both.
Glancing up, she held a hand to her brow, shielding her eyes from the sun at his back, and waved. “Come join us!”
He hadn’t needed the invitation, had planned to do so, but first he’d wanted a moment to simply enjoy what he now held, what he’d never hoped to attain.
After striding over to the well-worn path that led down to the sea, he made his way along it until he reached the shore. The girls rushed ahead of her to his side, grabbed his hands, not at all bothered by the scars, and smiled up at him with Kathryn’s eyes and her hair, and more of her than of him in their features. He’d have not wanted it any other way.
“Papa, will you carry us into the deep?” the eldest asked, their term for the area where the water went to his waist, where they could splash about and create a ruckus while holding on to him.
“Please?” pleaded the middle.
“Pretty please?” asked the youngest.
“I will, but I need a word with your mother first.”
“Kiss her, you mean.” The eldest was a sharp one and not shy about voicing her opinion.
He grinned. “Well, that, too.”
“Go on, girls,” Kathryn said. “Work on your castle while I greet your father.”
“Kiss him, you mean,” the eldest said, then giggled, her sisters joining in, before they all