Chapter Twenty-Six

D ays later, Danny lay in Percy's arms, panting, sweaty, and completely satisfied after three rounds of vigorous sex: first on the bed, then on the rug by the fire, and then the chaise in the corner. Finally able to make coherent thoughts, she propped her chin on his chest.

"So, what was Denise's role?" she asked. Now that she thought back to that night, she hadn't seen or heard anything of her siblings once they'd taken up their posts. "Waylaying constables? Causing a crush of carriages in the street?"

Percy's connections may have won them a pardon for inserting another breathing hole in the previous Home Secretary's face—an easy decision by Her Majesty when verified evidence of Ridley's treason had become known—but traffic accidents and purposeful blockades wouldn't be on the list of forgiven crimes.

Danny groaned, imagining. "Tell me my siblings weren't involved in anything illegal?"

"Oh, that." Percy's ears turned a most guilty shade of red. "I may have bent the truth a bit when I asked for your sister's assistance."

That sounded criminal. "What exactly were she and Don doing?"

"Needling my butler and housekeeper."

Danny's eyes widened. He couldn't mean... "Percival Cole, you did not sick my siblings on the staff to make them resign?" No wonder she hadn't seen hide nor hair of Mr. Lancaster or Mrs. Smith in days. She rubbed her temples. "I can already see the written complaints from the trade union." Denise and Don would've been vicious. "The poor dears."

"No one should be that composed all the time," Percy defended. "I took you four different ways our wedding night with the door open and not even a glare of disapproval. If those two can withstand a frontal assault from both your siblings, they can withstand my horrible personality. But at least this way, I'll know they're deranged but good-natured psychopaths and not neglectfully unconcerned automatons. I'll have you know, both of them remain in their positions, with a large number of pounds added to their yearly salaries."

Danny shook her head, afraid to ask. "And what was little Leo up to? Scaring cats from the barns?" Please let him have been scaring cats in the barn .

If Percy had looked guilty before, Danny braced herself for what followed his newest expression.

"Actually..." Percy leaned over and took a grey object out of his discarded coat's pocket. He grinned. "The lad was supposed to hit a tree or something, cause a distraction if things got dicey." He ran a hand through his hair and nodded towards the rock he placed in her hand. "I had no idea he was as good a shot as you."

Frowning at his nonsensical words, Danny turned the rock towards the firelight: round and smooth, with the faintest smudge of brownish red that might have been blood.

Upon closer inspection, Danny recognized it was the same rock that had knocked the gun from her hand when she'd been posing as one of Ridley's agents. The same rock that had set the gun off when it had been flung from her hand.

"The most important role."

Danny's stomach dropped and she found herself wishing for the days when Percy had done nothing but lie. He had given Leo a job. A job Percy would think the most important of all: Cause a distraction in order to protect her . Which meant that little boy had been in the thick of things, close enough to use a child's sling shot and well within range of any of Ridley's men who managed to slip through the Merrys' net.

Thank God no one had gotten past.

"Where did Charlotte think Leo was?" Danny asked.

"In the kitchens, overseeing the preparations for our victory dinner with cook."

How would she ever look Charlotte in the eye the next time she faced her friend? "If you ever try anything half so dangerous with our children, you'll lose more than digits, my love."

He winced. "I see my head mounted on the wall and the taxidermy is not flattering." Gaze steady, he vowed, "Never again."

She blew out her breath, satisfied with his answer while her relief at the favorable outcome to this battle doubled, tripled. "Pray," she said, sending up her own. "Pray Charlotte and Hamish never find out how close their son came to harm." She'd have no legs to stand on if her friends took more than that from her husband.

Percy nodded gravely. "I do believe I owe my godson a horse, or gold, or a castle, or... what is better than a castle?"

"His first woman?" Danny offered.

Percy chuckled and plucked the rock from her hand to place it back in his coat's pocket. "I have thoroughly corrupted you, haven't I?"

Danny glanced at the knife on the nearby table, the handle still wet from their last coupling, and her body grew hot remembering. "I do believe I was corrupted long before you, dear husband."

Shame snuck through the cracks, sending threads of cold through her body.

Shaking the strands loose, Danny said, "I wonder if those negative feelings will ever fade completely? Someday, when I won't be ashamed to speak of them aloud."

Percy played with the end of a curl. "You shouldn't fear telling your friends."

Danny shook her head, the idea mortifying. "Could you imagine the conversation over tea? Lovely biscuits, Your Grace, and did I mention I get wet when a knife slides across my skin? " She buried her face in his chest. "They'd be appalled."

Percy laughed. "You've not spent enough time with the Duchess of Camine. She'd ask for details while hosting a royal dinner party. And besides, you fret for no reason. No one need know," he said. "It is, after all, not anyone's business."

She rolled her face to the side to be heard. "You're right." And he was. But she couldn't release the tension in her chest. In her heart, she knew she wouldn't breathe easy until she'd shared the words out loud. "It feels like a lie, hiding as I do. What I like, how I feel, is who I am. You accepted me." Was it so inconceivable to think others would too?

He leaned down and kissed her on the nose. "There is nothing wrong with you."

She frowned, disbelieving. "Just everyone else?"

"Exactly!"

She rolled her eyes. "Arrogant as always, believing your opinion is the only one that matters?"

His smiling expression sobered. Taking her hand in his, all trace of humor was gone from his voice when he said, "No, my love. The only opinion that should count is yours. How you feel and what you like is who you are." She smiled at the reference as he continued. "You must learn to accept yourself, and if you need to confide in someone—other than your fabulous husband —then do what you must, for you and no one else. I would never presume to get in the way of what you need to be happy."

Danny felt the tears running down her cheeks before she acknowledged the overflow of gratitude. Not just gratitude. She sat up and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, letting her actions speak of the feelings she had yet to voice. There was no need to state her love; Percy was a man of action, and actions always spoke volumes louder than mere words.

Percy ran his palms down her arms until both their hands were twined together, feeling the same warmth of emotion. "I love you." His voice was quiet, but his expression brooked no denial.

Danny's legs had fallen asleep during their awkward positioning minutes ago and the chill from the banked hearth had seeped into her bones, but her husband's nearness now flooded her body with warmth... and wicked heat all over again. They hadn't yet coupled on the window seat, an oversight to be rectified as she regained feeling in her toes.

"I know you don't share my feelings yet," Percy said, interrupting her fantasies of ruining the window seat stuffing with a brutal pounding of their bodies.

"I mean to change that," he continued. "For now, I'll love enough for the both of us until you find a way to open your heart to me."

Blinking, Danny drew back, sure the cleverest man she'd ever known had said the stupidest thing she'd ever heard. "Since when don't I love you?"

He smiled. "I meant as more than friends and partners."

"So did I."

He stilled. "You love me?" His expression pinched. "Since when?"

She shrugged. "Since you kissed me at the Leishires' ball or thereabouts."

For whatever reason, her answer seemed to anger him. "You mean you've loved me for three years ? Why didn't you tell me?"

Danny scoffed. "I spoke through my actions."

"That's not how this works," he said. "You. Never. Said. A. Word."

"I didn't see a need."

"Of course there was a need!" He ran a hand through his hair. "How else am I supposed to know?"

Danny rolled her eyes. "Men." Really, the creatures were impossible. "Then let me be perfectly clear, sir. I, Daniella Cole, Duchess of Grandfellow, friend to hopeless criminals and winner of archery wagers, love you." And then for good measure... "I love you, Percy." She shook her head. "Frankly, if being willing to strip naked and pass myself off as a hired mercenary for you isn't enough of a statement, there's nothing else I can do."

*

Percy blinked, dumbfounded. She loved him. "Why?" He was ornery and a liar. Yes, they'd shared a heightened emotional situation surviving a near splatting of their persons all over Fellow Hall by a sadistic madman, but that had been days ago.

"I don't understand," he said in all seriousness. "I won't dance and refuse to eat anything resembling a potato." Aside from keeping the male population from offering for her hand every other minute, his only redeemable quality was an encyclopedia of erotic positions and the stamina of a racehorse. "Why on Earth would you fall in love with me?"

Idiot! Why was he probing for reasons when he should be kissing her senselessly before she changed her mind?

Expression bland, she must have garnered his disbelief and unwillingness to listen to insipid nothings because she said in all seriousness, "Why else? You fuck like a tiger."

Laughter burst between his teeth, great bellows he hadn't realized he could produce. Composing himself with effort he said, "A tiger?"

"They are cited to be quite relentless maters."

He was reading the wrong articles. Resignation gave way to amusement and then unalloyed joy. "You love me."

"I did say it this time."

She did. And her declaration had dripped with sarcasm too.

"I love you." He repeated the words over and over, punctuating each with a kiss to her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her ear.

Afterwards, she asked breathlessly, "Then you approve of my affections?"

"Approve?" He gathered her into his arms and pressed his face into her clove-scented shoulder, finally knowing where he belonged.

"I approve," he said, his heart and life full. "I am the luckiest of men."