Epilogue

May 24, 1820

Landover Manor

Bedfordshire, England

Cora Wetherford née Hasting couldn't help but smile as she removed her bonnet, then did the same with her half-boots.

In a month's time, she and Peregrine would celebrate their third wedding anniversary, but since they were at her father's property in Bedfordshire currently—and since this meadow was the place where Peregrine had first claimed her body before they were supposed to have been wed the first time—it only seemed right that they would enjoy a picnic here today.

After they had spent a honeymoon period at Lord Maubrey's estate in Kent, they had traveled to Bedfordshire and visited with her family, which they tried to do twice a year, and most definitely during the Christmastide season.

"Is this the spot, then?" her husband asked with a grin. He held a willow basket in one hand and an old quilt in the other.

"Yes." The green grasses were dotted with a wash of wildflowers in a riot of colors that resembled an oil painting. In the far distance, blue-gray water from a brook sparkled in the sunlight. "It's perfect, and I remember this place well."

"As do I." After setting the basket down, he proceeded to spread out the quilt that had seen better days. The edges were fraying. A hole had started in one quarter. Long ago the colors had faded. But there was still life in it yet, and while it was serviceable, Cora would always pull it from the cedar trunk in the attic and use it.

Like for such an occasion as this.

"The day is wonderful, and just smell the flowers, Perry. If all the year could be like this, everything else would be bearable, I think." Over the years since she'd married the captain, they had made amazing memories and had grieved together through dark and lonely valleys. But always, at the end of each cycle, they had each other.

"You speak of the child we lost." It wasn't a question, and though he was every bit as handsome as he'd always been, there were new lines that crinkled the corners of his eyes and framed his mouth. And during the last year or so, there had been shadows in his eyes.

"I do."

Eighteen months before, when her father had succumbed to the disease that had taken his mind, the news had been so shocking and sudden that Cora had gone into premature labor. Since she'd only been five months along, the babe was too small to survive and had perished immediately following the birth.

However, Cora had been told after the fact, for once she'd been delivered of the child—a daughter—there had been certain internal complications with her body. Once a horrifying bout of hemorrhaging had been stemmed and other measures had been administered to make certain she survived the ordeal, the midwife had gently broken the news to Peregrine that it was unlikely she would ever be able to conceive again.

"We still have a lovely life, though, don't we?" Yes, there was a wistful note in his voice, but his eyes were bright as he set the basket on the quilt and his grin had the power to weaken her knees just as it always had.

"Of course we do, and it's been enriched more than I ever thought possible." She met his gaze and offered a smile. "Please don't misunderstand me. The losses we have suffered temper the joys, but that doesn't mean there isn't so much in the offing for us to discover and rejoice over." When she joined him on the quilt, a squeak escaped her when he tugged her down to sit next to him. "We do not need children to make our marriage complete or fulfilled."

"A lovely sentiment and one I quite agree with." As he tossed his top hat to the edge where it joined her bonnet, he sighed. "But then, I expected nothing less from my lovely wife."

"You are too charming for your own good." Cora delved into the basket and removed a corked bottle of lemonade. "I am content with what we have."

Peregrine's shop, Charts and Springs, had slowly gained popularity. In those early days, since she'd been without a paying position, she had worked as his shop assistant, and months later, it had been a cozy arrangement spending her days beside him. They'd moved into the rooms above the shop and had made it into a happy love nest that suited them—and Matey—quite well. There was no need to immediately move, and perhaps they would find a modest townhouse someday, but that was for the future.

He had even brought on an assistant for those times when they were away. It might not be the glittering life that her oldest sister lived as a viscount's wife, but they were happy, and especially after the losses the family had suffered, that was all that mattered.

"As am I. We have certainly filled our little home with laughter and love." He delved a finger into the pocket of his waistcoat. "I have a gift for you."

"Oh?" It was rare, indeed, they had enough coin left over at the end of the month for such frivolity, so this was quite a boon. "Why?"

"Because it's time. It's needed. You deserve it." When he opened his palm, a band of silver filagree rested there, and in the center, square-shaped sapphire winked in the sunlight. "I finally had enough saved to buy you a proper engagement ring."

"You didn't need to do that." The ivory ring had been enough. She'd worn it every day until the metal band had developed a crack. Then she'd tucked it away lest she lose the whole of it.

"Yes, I did, and I want the world—and your sisters specifically—to know that I'm more than capable of caring for you even if I don't have a fortune."

"No one thinks badly of you." Her hand shook as he slipped the bauble onto the fourth finger of her left hand. "We live an honest life and there is nothing wrong with that."

"But I want to give you everything you deserve."

"You do, every day that goes by, and your income is nothing to sneeze that." She rested a hand to the scarred side of his face, and when his eyes briefly fluttered closed, she smiled. "In another two years, who knows what will happen? That is the fun of this journey."

"I'm glad we are traveling it together." He took her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed each finger. "Did you know that there is quite a history in the wildflowers in England?"

"Oh?" There were times when he told her stories from his travels around the world, and in each one, there was such adventure and emotion that she felt as if she'd been the one to experience those travels. "How so?"

"Consider the corn poppy." He nodded toward one of the red flowers nearby. "Poppies were, along with wheat, the emblem of the Greek mother goddess Demeter, who presided over agriculture and the fertility of the earth. Associated with the fullness of the moon, she took care of the growing of crops, and poppies put vital nutrients back into the soil."

"They are rather pretty. I could see how a goddess became enamored with them."

"Indeed." Again, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back, but it was the gleam in his hazel eyes that sent anticipation skittering down her spine. "Cowslip, with its beauty-enhancing qualities and yellow hue, is attributed to Freyja, goddess of love and beauty in Norse mythology. It's said that the flowers represent the keys to open the door to her secret hall, and the treasure of inner knowledge."

"Isn't it interesting the lovely flowers are always given to goddesses, but never the common or the ugly?"

"Everything has its place, and nothing is ever overlooked or shunned in the world of nature." He peered into her eyes then slowly toed off his scuffed and much-used Hessian-style boots. "Would that humankind remembered such. The world would certainly be a better place."

"I adore it when you tell me stories." However, in this moment, she wanted so much more from him, since they were the only two around for miles.

"Collecting knowledge is a hobby of mine." With a crooked grin, he pressed feather weighted kisses to the inside of her arm. Gooseflesh followed in his wake. "The cornflower is linked to Venus and Saturn. There are two Greek myths that center on the flower's alleged curative qualities against poisonous venoms."

"Oh?"

"A nod to both myths is found in the flower's botanical name, Centaurea cyanus. The first part of the name comes from the tale of the centaur Chiron, advisor to Achilles, who healed Achilles' wound with cornflowers when he was poisoned by an arrow in his heel."

"What a lovely story."

"And what lovely eyes you have that resemble such an impressive bloom." Stretching, Peregrine reached over the edge of the quilt, snagged a cornflower, and when he came back to her, tucked the flower behind one of her ears. "Perhaps it will grant us good fortune in the future."

Her heart skipped a beat. "What is it you want?"

"Many long years with the woman I love." With little effort, he tugged her into his arms and brushed his lips over hers. "And you were right. It's not a bad life at all as long as I have you."

She slipped her arms around his middle. "Do you regret that?" There was always the sensation of coming home when she felt his arms around her.

"Absolutely not. I'm the most fortunate of men." He cupped her cheek and drew the pad of his thumb along her lower lip. "And like the varied colors and shapes of the wildflowers in this field, so go the days of our life together. Some are wilting and limp, but others blaze with color on strong stems. They all make up a wonderful bouquet."

How romantic he was! "How could I ever believe I was better off without you?"

"I ask myself that every day." His next kiss held a possessive note that ignited tiny fires in her blood. "Years ago, Miss Beaufort told me the person she loved would fetch her the moon if she but asked. I would give you the same, for I love you to distraction, more now that we are married."

Tears stung her eyes. "What use would I have of the moon in our cozy home? I only need you." When she glanced up into his dear face and the love and blatant need in those dark depths mirrored what she felt, Cora went once more into his eager arms. "Kiss me as if this is our last day on earth."

"As if you need to ask." With a growl, Peregrine treated her to a series of long, drugging kisses that made her forget her name and desire cloud her brain. One by one, he worked the laces at the back of her gown, and when the garment gaped, he helped her out of it. To be fair, she enthusiastically helped, too. "It wouldn't do to appear at tea with your sisters in a gown stained by grass." He stripped off his gloves and dropped them to the ground near her dress.

She snorted. "We are on a quilt."

"One never knows what will happen when we're lost to passion."

"Stop, you." But she could hardly speak for the excitement and anticipation playing through her insides. Even on the verge of celebrating three years together with him, he still made her giddy before bedding her. Once he'd divested her of the petticoat of thin cotton embroidered by her own hand at the hem with rose buds, she relieved him of his collar and cravat, and then shoved his tweed jacket from his broad shoulders. His tame waistcoat of brown velvet was the next to be shed. The garments randomly decorated the quilt around them.

"Come, Mrs. Wetherford." He pulled her down with him and his arms were warm and strong around her, and the heady scent of wildflowers teased her nose. "I'll wager you are even more beautiful than all of these wildflowers in this field," he whispered and covered her body with his.

Then she was lost on the waves of pleasurable sensation, for he set out to explore every inch of her skin, baring it all to the sun, sky, and his gaze as he kissed and caressed her curves. Once her stays and shift had fallen from his hand, she yanked his shirttails from the waist of his breeches, and with a growl, he pulled it up and off his body.

"Someone is needy this afternoon."

"Can you blame me?" Cora smoothed her palms over the ridges and contours of his flat abdomen. The light mat of coarse hair covering his chest tickled her skin and sent fires scurrying into her blood. "When I'm in your arms and you are loving me, I forget everything, but right now, I need to feel you against me. Urgently," she added in the event he didn't understand.

"Have I ever disappointed you in this regard?" After briefly leaving her to remove his breeches, he layered himself over her, and finally having him skin to skin with her was every bit as wonderful as it ever was. Over and over, he plied her mouth with kisses while he did magical and naughty things to her breasts.

Lips, fingertips, and tongues competed in a game as old as time to see which one of them could bring the other to the edge first. His body made a lovely playground, and she had long ago become familiar with the planes and angles of his form, but he was also an expert on her body, and all too soon they were both panting with need. Moans blended with the nature sounds of birds and the breeze in the tree leaves.

When he skimmed a hand along her hip and then caressed her thigh, Cora trembled, for she was well-primed for this next bit.

It took little time for her to encourage his fingers between her legs, and as he found the sensitive, swollen button at her center, a shuddering sigh escaped her. She broke his kisses long enough to whisper, "Send me flying, Captain. You know what I like." And as he claimed her lips in another mind-bending kiss, she crept a hand up the back of his leg and kept going to cup a bare buttock. How much did she adore him in this way?

"I do, indeed," he whispered and applied himself more fully to sending her over the edge of bliss, while she did the same to him.

She could hardly concentrate on her own exploration when he took a nipple into the warm cavern of his mouth. Her back arched and her legs opened wider, which gave him greater access. A moan left her throat, for he was quite relentless in his quest; never did he approach coupling with anything other than intense determination. Because of that, her mind was nearly gone, but she had enough wherewithal to slide a hand around to squeeze his impressive equipage, giggling as another moan escaped him, this one of surprise. "Even after all this time, you are not ready for that?" He was hard and hot in her palm, and very aroused.

So incredibly delicious.

"Your delight and encouragement are quite the aphrodisiac." Peregrine employed his mouth and free hand at her breasts, while bringing her to the heights with relentless friction on her nubbin. "By the time I'm done this afternoon, every living thing in this meadow will know how pleased I am to have married you." And again, he applied himself with vigor to that button as if he hadn't anything else to do with his time.

"Oh!" Bliss washed over her as she fell into a release. A shuddering sigh left her throat and ended with a stifled scream. Contractions rocked her core. She clung to his straining biceps as he held himself over her. "Perry, that was… You are…" Why wouldn't her brain turn over intelligent words? "Surprising and I adore that moment."

"Mmm, let us see what else you can manage, hmm?" He shifted his position until he settled more comfortably between her bent knees, his weight on his forearms. "Unless you are too tired?"

"I am absolutely not." She looped her arms about his broad shoulders and pulled him closer, went so far as to lightly nip his ear lobe. "I might need more convincing of your love for me." It was a game they often played, and he always came up to the mark beautifully.

One second, his cockhead flirted with her opening as he kissed her thoroughly. The next, with one fluid flex of his hips, he'd thrust into her and didn't stop until she'd been fully impaled. Their moans of pleasure blended, and he paused, smiling down at her.

With the sunshine gilding his chestnut hair and his shoulders, he was almost god-like. She shivered and her heart squeezed, for he was hers. "Is there an issue?" The words were a breathless affair, for he filled her so completely that if she took a few deep breaths, she'd spend right with little effort.

And she adored it every single time.

"I honestly never remember how I got along without you in my life. As much as I enjoyed my time in the navy, this phase of my life has been infinitely better." He smoothed the curls from her forehead and then pressed a kiss to the skin there. "I love you." Then he moved, employing slow and easy strokes that made her shiver with anticipation and pleasure.

"I love you too," Cora finally managed to pant out before giving herself over to his mastery. Planting her feet on the ground, she lifted her hips and matched his rhythm. Oh, he felt so good, so strong, and she couldn't have enough of him. It never grew stale, this part of marriage, and she absolutely delighted in joining with him both physically and emotionally—even spiritually. Everything she was went into his keeping. Tears pricked her eyes at the perfection of it and the thought they had years of this to enjoy together.

"Ah, sweeting." He pressed his lips to her cheeks, her nose, her closed eyelids, and when he claimed her mouth in a proper kiss and fenced with her tongue, the cadence of his thrusting changed to match. Frantic, hard, forceful, Peregrine stroked into her as if he wished to touch her soul.

A moan escaped her as Cora drew her knees up and wrapped her legs about his waist, and that sent him deeper. The crisp hairs of his chest rasped along her already sensitized skin. The friction added depth to their joining. Far too soon, her world tilted and fractured, but he didn't slow. "Perry, please…" She panted and her heartbeat accelerated. With every push, every thrust, waves of intense sensation rolled over her. "I need…" What did she need? Every thought in her brain flew away like butterflies in the wind. She opened her eyes and peered into his face. Such love and devotion were reflected there; those raw emotions stole her breath, and when she grinned, a tremble moved down her spine to help usher in her imminent flight.

"Tell the heavens, Cora. Shout how you feel, for I'm nearly done. I want the countryside to know." He paused briefly as he kneeled between her legs, took her hips in a bruising grip, and then continued working her body by going deep until she fell.

That wasn't the right term, not at all. It was more like she hurled through a spinning sky that was bright with rainbow-colored sparkles, and then she flew as bliss exploded all around her. "Peregrine! Dear God!" Out in the open with the privacy of nature, she shouted her exultation while contractions rocked her body. As she tumbled, her inner muscles sucked greedily at his length as he thrust once, twice. The third one pushed him over the edge, and he claimed his own release with a muffled shout.

"So good." His labored breathing rasped in her ear as his shaft pulsed. She reveled in the heavy press of his body that pinned her between him and the quilt-covered ground. "I will never have enough of you," he said with his lips in the crook of her neck while she looped her arms about his shoulders.

"I feel much the same." With a sound much like a purr, Cora stroked her fingers through the hair at his nape. "I sometimes think I live a charmed life."

A frown pulled at his sensual lips. Oh?" He kissed away the moisture on one cheek. "Are you unhappy about that?"

"No. The opposite. It all still feels exciting and new." Then she nestled into his hold, content to lay there while the sun warmed her skin and her breathing returned to normal.

"That is all to the good, for my fondest hope is that we'll never grow dull together."

They lay together for quite a while before the captain stirred.

"Perhaps we should dress. We need to at least investigate our picnic before we return to the house for tea. Cook will be quite offended if I don't eat at least three of her jam tarts."

"The staff does dote on you." She reached for her shift, and her muscles protested that banal movement. "Mama told me Mia and Wycliffe are scheduled to arrive today with their children." She adored those young ones, and spoiling them made her loss a bit less acute.

"Indeed. Sounds like the making of an entertaining evening."

"You have no idea. My sister Anna is home for a bit. She's been a governess to a family in Bath, but now the last child is grown, she's without a position."

"Ah, and she's bored?" He brushed his lips over hers.

Cora giggled. "Weren't we all at seven and twenty?" When she tugged him over, she kissed him soundly before letting him move away to dress. "Ah, Perry, there is nothing more I could ever want from our life together, so thank you for risking everything for that second chance."

"I would do it all over again, for you are more than worth it."

They shared a grin, and she lifted her face to the sun while breathing a silent prayer. Life was indeed surprising, and just when a person thought it would always be one way, fate shifted and thrust one into a new and astonishing path. The trick was never letting fear overrule bravery, for so many things could be missed if that happened.

Having a supportive and loving man by one's side didn't hurt either.

The End