Epilogue

8 weeks later…

Despite the decided nip of the early autumn air, Ophelia did not wear a pelisse for their games on the lawn. The excitement and vigor of playing ninepins with her friends was enough to work up a sweat and keep her warm. If that did not work, the kisses that Devlin stole when he thought no one was looking did enough to delight her blood and had her flushing with wicked heat.

“Yes!” Maryann cried as she rolled the heavy ball along the bowling green toward the jack in the distance.

Emma, Fanny, Charlotte, Poppy, and Mr. Noel Baker cheered when she got her ball very close to the jack with her first throw.

“Come, Charlotte,” Maryann said, tipping back her head and laughing before pushing her spectacles atop her nose in that charming manner of hers. “It is your turn.”

A footman bowed and handed Charlotte the ball. Maryann sauntered over and grinned at Ophelia. The balls were marked with different colors to indicate to which player or team the ball belonged.

“What do you think our husbands are so busy chatting about? Perhaps how to trounce us in cricket, which is up next.”

“Or Poppy and Mr. Baker’s wedding which is in a few days.” Ophelia smiled. “It could also be about Robert Peel’s acceptance of the invitation to our dinner party next weekend. The man is apparently keen to speak with Devlin after the articles he wrote on how to make the streets of London safer.”

Ophelia felt a swell of emotions squeeze her throat. She and Devlin had been married a few weeks earlier by special license. After Ophelia had gifted her father with the paperwork to show all his debts had been discharged, he and her mother had grudgingly—or so he admitted—attended their small yet beautifully intimate wedding.

However, on the day, she had seen the pride written large upon his face and the tears in her mother’s eyes. Afterward, the scandal sheets had seen it fit to talk about their alliance for days, but Ophelia had not allowed it to bother her. Still, she had been happy to leave for their country home in Dorset, another impressive manor house that had stolen her breath, and she had quickly fallen in love with her new home.

“It is good that Devlin has such influential friends,” Maryann murmured. “It might remove the sting that your parents still feel.”

Ophelia nodded. “Though Mama writes, she does not mention when they will visit. However, I am pleased they attended the wedding, even if a part of their capitulation was merely to avoid more rabid speculation and scandal.”

She and Maryann shared an amused smile and cheered Charlotte when she knocked their balls away on her third try.

“Have you gotten a letter from Fanny?” Maryann asked with a slight frown.

Ophelia waited until the footman passed with the tray of chilled lemonade before she replied. “I did!”

“She has infiltrated Viscount Derrick’s townhouse on the pretense of acting as his housekeeper! A lady pretending to be a housekeeper. I could not credit it, not even for one of us sinful wallflowers.”

Ophelia blinked. “In the letter she sent me, Fanny said upon reflection that dressing as a man and acting as a valet might seem safer. The man her parents all but sold her to would have a more difficult time finding her if, as the viscount’s valet, she traveled with him in disguise.”

“Ah, he is the viscount who wrote the sensational travel memoirs. His fiancée also ran off and married that American. The scandal was all over town last year.” Maryann took a sip of her drink, deviltry glinting in her eyes. “Do you think Fanny knows that as the man’s valet, she will have to assist him with bathing and dressing?”

They collapsed in a heap of mirth as they imagined Fanny’s shock and reactions.

“Surely she must know,” Ophelia said, laughing still.

Maryann glanced up, and her eyes widened. She hurriedly placed her glass on the lawn chair and dashed off in the direction of her husband, who strolled toward them, and leaped into his arms. Ophelia chuckled and walked in a more sedate saunter toward Devlin, her heart hitching in her chest.

God, she loved him so much.

“What, no run and jump into my arms, Fifi?” he drawled, his green eyes gleaming with rich love and desire.

“No,” she said, smiling and slipping her hands around his neck. “However, you will be greeted with this.” She tipped atop her toes and perfectly fitted their mouths together.

Such unladylike hollering came from Emma and Charlotte that Ophelia dissolved into laughter, ruining their kiss.

“Your friends are incorrigible.”

“I know.”

“I think that scream to kiss you again is from Poppy,” Ophelia said, laughing.

His mouth caught hers in an even deeper kiss, and she sighed, returning his passionate fervor, uncaring of their audience.

When they broke apart, they said in unison, “There is something we must discuss.”

She searched his expression, which was mild yet inscrutable. Pressing her hand over his heart, Ophelia said, “What is it?”

“A letter was delivered to me just now. It is from your father.”

“Oh!”

Devlin kissed the tip of her nose. “He has invited us to stay in Derbyshire. I am open to this invitation.”

“Very good of Papa.” Ophelia smiled, a lightness entering her heart. “He misses me.”

Devlin chuckled. “What did you want to discuss?”

She slid the hand that rested over his heart upward until she traced a finger over his chin. “I have been thinking about babies,” she whispered.

Her husband froze. “Babies?”

She smiled tenderly. “Yes. I want some.”

He cleared his throat, his somewhat shocked expression morphing into a wicked grin. “Well, we have been working quite diligently on them twice a night and sometimes once or twice in the day. Or did you not know that was how they were made?”

She thumped his shoulder and started to laugh.

A heavy woof sounded in the distance, and she turned to watch Conan racing with a new dog, Hera, whom Devlin had recently rescued, with Barbosa prancing underfoot.

They had been in their carriage a few weeks ago when Devlin knocked on the roof and jumped out. When Ophelia had looked out the window, it was to see her husband coming from the woods with brambles in his hair and a wounded dog in his hands. Hera’s foot had been broken, and it seemed her owner had simply left her, or they had not been able to find her. Devlin had taken such care of her with the aid of the local doctor, who had set the bone, and then named her Hera. Conan had not been jealous at all but licked Hera’s face several times as if to reassure her. Ophelia greatly admired his generosity and giving, protective nature, and had also fallen in love with Hera.

“They are quite happy together, aren’t they?” she asked. “To think I was worried Conan might not accept his new lady companion.”

The dogs paused and seemed to rub their noses together before tearing off toward the woods.

“I think Conan is in love,” she said, grinning.

“More likely, he is chasing a rabbit,” Devlin said drily.

Ophelia laughed and looked up at him. He had not been watching the dogs at all but had been staring at her the entire time.

“I am thinking about babies,” he said gruffly. “A little girl with your eyes and smile, and a son.”

Happiness filled her heart. “But first, we must do some of that traveling you’ve wondered about. Our own grand tour of the continent and sailing on the wide-open sea for weeks”

“That sounds wonderful my a ghrá mo chroí.”

Ophelia loved his endearments, especially this one which meant my heart’s beloved. She took a deep breath. “I also want to give you something.”

Devlin lifted a brow. “What has you looking so nervous?”

She dipped into the pocket of her dress and removed a carefully folded handkerchief. He took it when she held it up to him and slowly opened the material. Devlin stilled for the longest time as he stared at the ring of vines he had given her so many years ago.

He lifted his regards to her, and her breath seized at the poignant emotions espied in his brilliant gaze. “You also kept yours.”

“I did,” she whispered.

“I love you,” he murmured, the joy in his eyes raw and real.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat and, brushing her mouth against his, whispered, “I love you, too, my husband. I love you.”

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