Epilogue

Knightwood Manor

London, England

January 1821

T horne gently but firmly ousted three cats from the bedchamber and hurried to close the door to keep them out. "They should sleep with Mother. Not us."

Propped in bed, her hands folded atop her slightly rounding middle, Blessing tipped her head to one side and smiled. "Mother Roslynn says I put out more warmth than she does, and the kitties cannot resist it."

In her growing state of pending motherhood, Blessing did indeed put out more heat than a smithy's roaring forge, but far be it from Thorne to be foolish enough to admit it out loud. Not only did he value his life too much, but he also wished to meet his child in a few months.

He got into the bed and tugged her into his arms. "Well, you are mine, and I do not like to share."

"Then what will you do when the little one arrives?"

"That is different. The little one and I shall adore you equally."

She snorted.

"You do not believe me?" He nuzzled kisses across her collarbone and nibbled his way down to her delightful breasts, which had taken on an amazing new fullness that he thoroughly enjoyed.

"Yes, I believe you."

With a heavy sigh, he ceased reveling in her bounty and lifted his head. "What is it, my love? I can tell by your tone that something troubles you."

"I fear that Fortuity is the next in Chance's sights, since he discovered that marrying everyone off at the same time is an impossibly daunting task." She idly twiddled with the end of her braid while staring off into the distance.

Thorne rolled to his back and pulled her close to settle her with her head nestled in the dip of his shoulder. "Does she not wish to marry?"

"She wishes to write her stories and someday see that they are published."

"Can she not do both?"

Blessing snorted again. "Very few men allow their wives the liberties that you do."

"I am not certain I like the way you put that." But he knew what she meant. Blessing regularly visited her observatory and sisters at Broadmere House, and he saw no problem with that. But her thoughtful frown worried him. "What are you plotting?"

She didn't answer, simply pushed up, returned to a sitting position beside him, and cast a side-eyed glance his way.

"Essie?"

"Ravenglass loves books. I remember his parlor when Seri, Tutie, and I visited him because I was worried about you." She stared at him intently. "Tutie was enraptured with all his books."

"Ravenglass does not wish to marry."

"Neither did you when we met. You told me so yourself."

"Essie."

The intensity of her look shifted from plotting to a direct glare, with him as the target. "I find your tone most annoying," she said.

"If Ravenglass does not wish to marry, we should not pressure him. Besides—did you not tell me that all the sisters must marry for love for the terms of the will to be satisfied? Are you telling me Fortuity loves him?"

She huffed at him—a sure sign his assumption was correct.

"So, she does not love him?" he hazarded to ask.

"I guess we shall just have to wait and see, shan't we?" She huffed again, turned her back to him, and pulled the bedclothes up past her ears.

Thorne cast a glance upward, silently praying for wisdom. "I love you, my treasure," he said ever so softly.

"I love you too," came her muffled reply through the covers. "Just not so much when you are trying to prove me wrong."

"I would never try to prove you wrong." He needed to make peace with her before they slept. His heart never rested if they tried to sleep when all was not well between them. "I love you, Essie—more than anything."

She backed up and wiggled her bum against him. "I love you too, and I am not angry. You will speak to Ravenglass about Fortuity? Please?"

God in heaven help him and Ravenglass both. "Yes, my love. I will speak to Ravenglass."

"Thank you, my love."

"You are most welcome, my precious treasure."

The End