Chapter 34

"Grandmother." Thomas's voice was filled with tenderness as he walked up to the Dowager Duchess and kissed her on the cheek. "You are looking well. I swear you are getting younger with every passing day."

Catherine smiled as the Dowager Duchess waved a dismissive hand in the air at the compliment. She gazed around as her husband and his grandmother continued chatting, taking in the scene.

The Dowager Duchess was hosting another garden party on the grounds of her London townhouse this time, rather than Newden Estate. People were milling around, sipping tea and champagne. A large white marquee had been erected on the lawn. A game of Pall Mall was already in progress.

Catherine's smile widened as she spotted the maze at the end of the grounds, remembering the maze at Newden Estate and how she had gotten lost in it. She shivered, remembering how Thomas had found her before he led her to the gazebo, and what had happened there…

As if her husband knew what she was thinking about, he turned to her, taking her hand and raising it slowly to his lips, his eyes lingering on hers, filled with a wicked light.

Catherine shivered again. She couldn't quite believe that she was hungry for him again… and that he was hungry for her. They had only made love an hour ago, a wild romp in the small closet beneath the staircase, trying not to cry out in passion in case the maids heard them.

He was back to being his normal self after his strange grumpiness on the evening of the opera. Her doubts about him and Lady Isabella had receded. How could he be having an affair with the lady when he was so enamored with her, barely able to keep his hands off her? He rarely left her side. When would he have time to conduct an affair or the energy for that matter?

"You two look refreshed," the Dowager Duchess remarked, an amused look on her face. "Quite refreshed, indeed."

Thomas cleared this throat, looking a bit embarrassed. "Ah, well, yes, we have been relaxing at home over the past week. It has been quite refreshing, Grandmother."

"I daresay," the Dowager Duchess said, her lips twitching. "May I take it that I can finally dare hope for great-grandchildren at long last?"

Catherine and Thomas both burst into laughter. Catherine felt her face turn pink. Thomas squeezed her hand. She edged closer to him, leaning into him. She just couldn't help it.

"Let us just say that the possibility is there," Thomas offered, looking sheepish. "And we will leave it at that for today, Grandmother."

The Dowager Duchess chuckled, leaning on her walking stick and fixing them with a benevolent look. "I am in a good mood today, my boy," she said. "The sun is shining. The party is starting. Mimi has safely delivered her pups, and they are not the monstrosities I imagined. In fact, they are quite adorable. In short, life is good. Go and enjoy the festivities, my dears." She waved a bejeweled hand in the air.

They laughed again before moving away, heading into the crowd. Catherine leaned into Thomas just to feel the long, hard line of his body.

"She will never stop about the great-grandchildren, will she?" she whispered.

"Never." Thomas smiled. "I think she believes it is her life's last work to see a great-grandchild be born." He stopped, looking down at her, a quizzical expression on his face. "You know… I am coming round to the idea myself."

Catherine's heart skipped a beat. "You are?"

He nodded, looking pensive. "Yes, I am. It is the most surprising thing in the world. I never thought I would see the day… but then again, I never thought I would meet the woman who I would want to have children with either."

Catherine exhaled slowly. "You know, the thought of it is growing more appealing to me as well," she admitted, her cheeks reddening. "I never thought I would see the day either."

"If I could have children with you, then I might be happy," he whispered, stroking her cheek gently.

"I feel exactly the same way," she whispered back, her heart skipping another beat. "It is amazing, is it not?"

He laughed softly. "Everything is amazing with you, Catherine. Life is quite an adventure."

They gazed at each other shyly before looking away. Catherine felt a glow spread through her body. He had just told her that he wanted to have children with her. That of all the women in the world, he wanted to have them with her.

And she had told the truth when she had said that she wanted to have children with him as well. Astonishingly, the thought no longer frightened her.

Her heart gave an almighty throb. She turned back to him, staring at him hard.

She loved him. She had fallen in love with him. Head over heels, giddy, over the moon in love.

The realization had been growing on her over the past week, but she had tried to push it aside. Now, however, the knowledge burst upon her like a revelation.

She didn't want to live without him. She wanted to have children with him. She wanted to grow old with him.

She wanted the whole package. She wanted everything.

Stunned, she let go of his hand and turned towards the marquee.

"I see Oliver, Beatrice, and Patrick," she said, her voice sounding strained. "I might go and talk with them. I have not seen any of them since the ball."

Thomas grinned. "Go and socialize." He looked around, his eyes lighting up. "There is Kenneth with Philip, of all people. I might go and say hello to my old friends as well."

He turned towards her, kissing her softly on the forehead. "Until we meet again."

Catherine could barely breathe. "Yes, indeed."

They parted ways, Catherine heading towards her brother and friends and Thomas towards his friends. Her heart was pounding as she walked towards the marquee. Her revelation was making her mind spin and her body shake.

She loved Thomas. She really did. But did he feel the same way about her? He acted like he loved her. He made love to her with a passion that she felt was unique—a fiery connection that belonged to them alone. But he had never uttered the words to her. Not once.

She took a deep breath. She had never uttered the words to him either, she reminded herself. And they had just surrendered to their passion a short time ago. They were still finding their way towards one another through the maze of their past insecurities.

It was still early days. They were taking baby steps. But still… how would she ever survive if he never felt the same way about her? How could she endure loving him, and making love with him, for the rest of her life if he could never make that final, ultimate surrender?

"Newden!" Kenneth clapped Thomas on the back, grinning at him. "I was wondering when you would arrive." He turned to Philip. "Look who I found! The wayward wanderer has returned home at last."

"Not for long," Philip said quickly. "I am not here to stay. Just to catch up with family and friends before I set sail again."

"You are such a gypsy, Oakdale." Thomas smiled at him. "Do you think you will ever settle in England again?"

Philip scratched his chin as he pondered the question. "I cannot fathom the possibility at the moment, but never say never." He shrugged. "I say, do you boys fancy a brandy to celebrate our reunion? Champagne makes me thirsty in this heat. Shall I go and find a bottle somewhere?"

Thomas and Kenneth both laughed.

Thomas stared at his old friend fondly. "Do your best, Oakdale. I am sure you will find a bottle somewhere. Go and ask my grandmother."

Philip grinned before heading across the lawn with a sprightly step.

"I bumped into him at the opera the other night," Thomas said, turning back to Kenneth. "I did not realize he was back in the country."

"Neither did I." Kenneth shook his head. "It is good to have an old friend return to the fold, even if it is not for long." He stared at Thomas quizzically. "You look different, my friend. I have not seen you in over a week since the Dowager Duchess' ball. Has anything interesting come to pass since?"

Thomas hesitated, feeling his face redden. "Well, yes," he admitted, ducking his head. "My wife and I have become… closer."

Kenneth laughed with delight, slapping him on the back again so hard that Thomas jumped.

"At last!" Kenneth was grinning from ear to ear. "You put up a good fight, Newden, but you were always destined to lose. I could see the strong attraction between the two of you right from the start."

Thomas laughed, feeling awkward. He wasn't used to talking about his feelings for a woman with his friend. They had discussed women many times over the years, but it was always superficial.

"It is the most wonderful thing," he said in a hesitant voice. "I have never known such passion or such joy." He stopped, struggling. "I never knew it was possible. I feel as if I am born again when I am with her."

Kenneth's jaw dropped. "Are you saying what I think you are saying?"

Thomas shrugged, embarrassed. "I… I think so," he said eventually. He frowned. "But it is hard, Dunford. It is hard to trust. There is a small voice in my head that keeps insisting that she will betray me one day. That she will leave me."

Kenneth looked solemn. "I understand your fears. I really do. If anyone has a right to feel that way, it is you." He paused, gazing at his friend with a thoughtful look on his face. "All I will say is that I do not think she will. She is clearly as enamored with you as you are with her. And Catherine has such strength of character. She is a rare gem, Newden. She will be loyal to you."

Thomas smiled slightly. He appreciated his friend's comforting words, but he wasn't reassured. Kenneth didn't know Catherine that well —he had only just met her after all. He didn't know the depth of her loyalty or whether she could be swayed by a passing fancy.

Thomas' thoughts drifted back to the way Philip had been with her at the opera. He had gotten over it, but now, his jealousy was stirring again. He despised himself for it. Was he really going to be watching her like a hawk with other men for the rest of his life? How could he endure it?

Tell her how you feel about her. See if she feels the same way about you. That might make this awful feeling disappear.

He exhaled slowly. He had almost told her a few times, but the moment had never been quite right. He was forced to admit to himself that he was scared. He was scared that she did not feel the same way about him, despite their passion and connection, and he would feel like an utter fool, left dangling on the end of a rope.

"I found a bottle!" It was Philip, holding a bottle of his grandmother's finest brandy in the air, grinning inanely. "Shall we make a toast?"

They laughed. Tumblers were found, and the brandy was poured. They raised their glasses in the air.

"To old friends," Kenneth intoned, his eyes shining.

"To old Etonians," Philip added, his grin widening.

"To the journey," Thomas concluded, "wherever it may take us."

They clinked glasses, taking a long sip.

"What a merry party," a feminine voice said. "Is anybody allowed to join?"

They all swung around.

Lady Isabella Lyndon was standing there, twirling her parasol over her shoulder, smiling brightly. She looked as pretty as a picture in a white muslin gown. By her side was another pretty lady with chestnut-brown hair whom Thomas didn't recognize.

"Of course," Thomas replied politely, bowing. "We are at your disposal, ladies."