Epilogue

Nicholas stood at the window of his study watching his wife frolic in the snow. Frolic – now there was a word he could never have imagined himself using a mere twelve months ago.

Indeed, the very idea of frolicking would have brought out the worst in him. An upright naval captain didn’t frolic. And neither did a narrow minded, bad-tempered Duke who might well have been only four and thirty in age but so much older in disposition.

But when one had the remarkable fortune to be saddled with a wife who was particularly partial to frolicking, well, there was only one direction a man could take. Even one who was broken so badly he feared he would never laugh again.

It had taken a singular kind of woman to break through the armour with which he’d surrounded himself. Nay buried himself, and even now his heart thudded at how close he’d been to losing her. The one person who’d truly shown him that life was worth living.

He’d been a bastard. There was no getting around it. But in truth he’d been terrified. How ridiculous that sounded now as he watched his wife stuff snow down her brother’s coat. How could he have been terrified of a woman who possessed no guile, no ulterior motive and who’d simply tried to cope as best she could with the hand she’d been dealt ?

He gave a grim chuckle. It had to be said, she'd been dealt a pretty shitty hand.

But she’d loved him anyway. And even more astonishing, she still loved him.

But perhaps not as much as he loved her.

Nicholas Sinclair was done with agonising over things that couldn’t be changed. He was done with brooding, done with self-loathing. He’d learned his lesson. The nightmares might never be completely gone, but now they were filled with the fear of losing his Grace.

When happiness came knocking, the only sane thing to do was to throw open the door and grasp it heart and soul. Nicholas had nearly missed his chance. But not again. Never again. He would hang on with everything he had.

And he would relish every bloody wonderful minute of it.

Shrugging on his coat, the Duke of Blackmore pushed open the French doors and went out to throw some snowballs.

THE END