Epilogue

The lawn at Castle Kenross was buzzing like a hive laden with bees. The happy laughter of children filled the air, along with the cheerful barking of hounds who were bounding about in the grass with the lads and lasses.

The Duke and Duchess of Bradford's eldest lad, Percy, tagged the Marquess and Marchioness of Dorset's daughter. Young Lydia tripped over her flounced hems in her determination to catch the Blakemoor lad, Arthur, who promptly laughed at her. Fanny, daughter to the Earl and Countess of Rexingham, stuck out her foot at just the right moment and caused young Arthur to fall. Lydia seized the opportunity to tag poor Arthur, who really rather had deserved his comeuppance, and the lad lurched to his feet, chasing after the golden-haired daughter of Lord and Lady Wilton, Violet. From the lowest limb of a tree, Lachlan and Madeline's eldest son, Alastair, watched the lively game unfolding, Decker and Lady Jo's son at his side, feet swinging below his perch.

Alastair had Lachlan's red-gold hair and his mother's gray eyes, and every time Lachlan looked upon his son, his chest swelled with fatherly pride. He'd been a huge bairn, just as Lachlan had. Their daughter, Catriona—named after his sainted mother—had been petite at birth, but what she'd lacked in size, she more than made up for in personality. As evidenced now as she clambered up the tree after her older brother, her fat red braid cascading down her determined little back.

"It's wonderful to see all the children playing together, so carefree, isn't it?" Madeline asked at Lachlan's side.

He tore his gaze from the children and took in the sight of his beautiful wife, whose belly was swelled round with their next bairn. "I dinnae think it's possible tae be happier than this," he said honestly.

It had taken them two grueling years to restore Kenross Castle to its former glory and a fair bit of Madeline's tremendous dowry. But when they had finally finished their task, they'd begun an annual tradition of inviting their closest friends and their families for a summer house party. Each year, the ranks swelled as couples had more children, bringing additional joy and laughter to the once quiet, crumbling halls of the castle. The husbands and wives remained loyal friends, continuing their devotion to their cause with the Lady's Suffrage Society.

Around them, a massive picnic had been laid, all the couples scattered about in contentment as their offspring played with unashamed delight. Lachlan was reclining on a blanket, long legs crossed at his booted ankles, so stuffed full of salad and ginger beer that he didn't think he'd be able to move for at least a half hour. The repast had been marvelous, and he'd been ravenous as usual.

"Feeling full?"

At his wife's arch tone, Lachlan gave her a sheepish look. "How can ye tell?"

"Because your eyes are always bigger than your stomach is," she told him primly.

And she was right.

Aye, his beloved was right about a lot of things.

Most things, actually. But he had no intention of telling her that. She'd crow about it for years.

"Ye know me well, mo gràidh," he said instead, swooping in for a swift kiss despite the fact that they were surrounded by friends and wily children.

Madeline smiled, her eyes dancing in that way of hers that never failed to make him long to take her in his arms and carry her away to the nearest bedroom. "Aye, that I do, mo chridhe."

"I cannae help my love of lettuce," he said, patting his flat stomach. "Just as I cannae help my love of a beautiful American hellion who stole my heart and made it hers."

She sent him a flirtatious wink, rubbing the pale silk stretched over her burgeoning belly. "And you'll not be getting it back."

"Aye, it's yers forever, just as I am." Lachlan lowered his head to her ear, inhaling her sweet scent, keeping his voice soft so that it wouldn't carry. "Now, do ye think the two of us might slip away tae the castle without any of the wee ones taking note? I find I'm still hungry after all."

Hungry for his beautiful wife.

Aye, he'd never have his fill of Madeline.

Madeline bit her lip, obviously trying to quell her wicked smile. "What about our guests?"

"I'll no' have them join us if ye dinnae mind," he said teasingly. "The husbands can pleasure their own wives at their leisure. One wife is all I can handle."

Madeline chuckled. "Where did I find you?"

He kissed the hollow behind her ear that he knew drove her mad, gratified when she shivered. "Ye found me at a house party in York, of all places. I spilled champagne on yer train and trampled on it, and it was love at first sight."

"Oh yes," she murmured, casting him a naughty look that promised all manner of sensual delights. "How could I forget?" She leaned closer to him. "I'll meet you in the solar in five minutes."

She was perfect for him, his duchess. In every way.

Lachlan grinned. "I hope ye arenae wearing any drawers."

Madeline sent him a coquettish look. "You'll have to find out for yourself."

Och. She was going to kill him. And he'd love every minute of the sweet, sensual torture.

It was Lachlan's turn to wink now. "There's nothing I'd like more, lass." He leaned nearer again to murmur in her ear, "And if ye are wearing them, I'll tear them off ye with my teeth."

She made a soft humming sound, turning to him with a wicked smile. "Promise?"

"Aye, lass. That's a promise."

Thankyou for reading Madeline and Lachlan's happily ever after! I hope you enjoyed their steamy, bantering, emotional path to love. Many of you first met Lachlan in Lady Wallflower and have been asking for his story ever since—thank you for loving him as much as I do! This may be farewell for now to Dukes Most Wanted, but there's far more to come from me. Read on for an excerpt from How to Love a Dangerous Rogue, a spicy enemies-to-lovers Regency romance with age gap, danger, and all the swoon.