Epilogue

EPILOGUE

CHRISTMAS EVE, TWO MONTHS LATER

R afe finished tucking the carefully wrapped gifts under the tree as Diana waited in the doorway of the Foxglove library. The once-empty library was again full of books, which Rafe had insisted on buying when he’d learned she’d sold nearly every book to pay debts. As always, her husband knew the exact way to make her fall even more in love with him. Tonight, garlands hung from every surface and more than one doorway held sprigs of mistletoe, creating delightful trouble among some of the servants, who seemed to take every advantage of the chance to kiss.

A beautiful yew tree had been felled and brought into the house by Rafe and the male servants four days ago. When she’d questioned the presence of a tree inside their house, Rafe chuckled and said it was a tradition from the royal court, which had started putting trees in the palace for Christmas as far back as 1800 when Queen Charlotte brought the first yew tree into Windsor.

Diana found that the large tree decorated with apples, dried berries on strings, and colorful paper garlands was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Rafe said it would only be a matter of time before the tradition caught on everywhere. Now that she’d seen the tree at its finest, she rather believed he was right. Someday, all of England would wish to have such trees in their homes.

She smiled as he carefully adjusted the stack of gifts beneath the tree. He had taken the matter of gift-giving most seriously. Every servant in the house had one under the tree from him and Diana. Isla had a small mountain of gifts just for her, of course.

Diana could scarcely believe how easily she and Rafe had settled into her home after their marriage. They had waited for him to heal and decided together to have a proper wedding breakfast, which had pleased Regina and Ashton beyond measure. Will and Caspian, who she now knew were the real Oxford and Cambridge highwayman, had even chosen to stay at Foxglove and had assisted with the repairs. They’d also taken Ashton up on his offer to invest their own money from their adventures, and both men were able to leave the life of highwaymen behind them.

Rafe had moved into Foxglove only a week after that awful night, well before they were properly wed. No one had protested, and what little town gossip had circulated had been brief and lacking any sting to it. As Ashton had explained, Rafe had suffered a terrible accident and needed rest and quiet to recuperate, and Lennox House was far too bustling and full to allow Rafe the rest he needed. It seemed that the neighbors were all quite pleased with the marriage and the knowledge that Foxglove, a once-majestic house, would regain its glory through the union of the Lennoxes and the Foxes.

Ashton had taken care of the situation with Caddington. They’d learned that Caddington’s frequent deliveries of money to London, which Rafe and Diana had both robbed, were to be payments securing the loyalties of various aristocratic families. What had infuriated Ashton and Rafe was when they’d learned the money Caddington had been sending came from local merchants and small businesses in the countryside who’d been forced to pay for “protection.” When the king had learned of this, he’d seen to it that Caddington’s estate was stripped of its title, and the house and land were gifted to a man who’d recently done the Crown a favor and earned himself a title. Caddington’s death had been listed officially as having been caused by a fight with Mr. Phelps, his manservant. None of the servants who’d worked for Caddington came forward in his defense.

Rafe had been quiet whenever Ashton visited them and gave new information on the situation. When it was finally resolved, Rafe had pulled Diana into his arms on a settee in the library and held her for a long while. She’d burrowed into him and kissed his cheek and held him in return, giving him her silent promise that he was safe at last. It was then they could truly turn their thoughts to the future.

Although she trusted Rafe, her experience with men had left her concerned that he might wish to assert himself as head of the household, making all the decisions. To her relief, this did not happen, though he freely offered his advice when he felt she needed it. He’d done exactly what he’d promised and became her partner, not her master. With this new confidence in herself, she’d found that life truly could be magical when one found the right man.

Rachel came to visit every few days and delighted in Diana’s newfound happiness. Diana wondered if life was too perfect. Whenever she voiced such concerns, Rafe would kiss her furrowed brow and remind her that she’d had a far from perfect past and perhaps she was due a more perfect future. So she’d stopped worrying and simply embraced all the good that had happened of late.

They continued to make repairs to the home, and they’d examined the account books and worked side by side with Mr. Peele and Mrs. Ripley to bring Foxglove back to its former glory. Some days, it was as though she’d stepped into a story and found fairy tales were, in fact, true.

Diana turned her thoughts back to her husband, who was still kneeling at the base of the tall, lushly decorated tree. With the last gift placed, Rafe stood proudly and brushed his hands on his trousers, then faced her with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “There. I’ve seen to everyone... but you.”

“Me?” Diana laughed. “Whatever do you mean, husband ?” She loved to call him that, to tease him and know that he was hers, all hers. He, in turn, seemed to delight in calling her wife just as much. They said the words as though it was a private joke between them, two people who’d given up on love and spouses only to have found each other.

“I still have to give you your gift.” He stalked toward her in a way that sent butterflies fluttering in her lower belly. She so adored it when her husband showed that leopard-like grace whenever he came toward her with lust in his eyes.

“You bought me a wardrobe to fill two bedchambers,” she reminded him. She had one more present of her own to give him, though it was quite impossible to wrap.

“Those were necessities , not gifts,” he said. “And I used the money that Ashton invested for me because it’s been paying back most handsomely.”

Diana laughed. “And so did mine from Rosalind. Can you believe they put our money in the same India bonds without realizing it? Those two truly are made for each other.”

“Sickeningly perfect,” Rafe agreed, grinning.

It had stunned them both to learn that Rosalind and Ashton had taken their stolen fortunes and made the exact same investments, which had resulted in excellent returns. Those funds would continue to perform, and with Rafe’s yearly income, for the first time in years Diana felt the fate of her home would be secure.

Rafe gently grasped Diana’s waist and leaned in to nuzzle her cheek. “Back to the matter of your gift, wife. ” Excitement zinged from her cheeks down to her toes. This man’s touch would always make her dizzy.

“What about yours?” she countered.

Beneath the tree, she had half a dozen presents with his name upon them. She’d purchased waistcoats to accent his hair and eyes, a new pocket watch, a signet ring with a fox’s head upon it, and several other items. But the one she couldn’t wrap was the one she wanted to give him most.

“Why don’t you visit the nursery and see that Isla is finally asleep?” Rafe asked. “Then meet me in our bedchamber.”

“What are you up to?” Rafe could be a delightful tease most of the time, and she loved his surprises.

“Nothing, my wife. Now, off you go.” He turned her around to face the door and gently swatted her backside. She obediently left the library, unable to deny her curiosity. She did wish to make sure Isla was sleeping soundly. They had spent Christmas Eve at Lennox House, had a fine Christmas dinner, and played enough parlor games to wear the child out.

Isla’s new nursery held the bed that Rafe had chosen for her. All of her toys and clothes had been moved from Lennox House after the marriage. Even Mrs. Chesterfield had agreed to come to Foxglove with them. Right now she was at her usual post by Isla’s bed, but her book was abandoned and she was asleep. Diana crossed the room to stoke the fire with the poker and adjust the fire grate, then tucked Isla’s covers up and readjusted the doll in her arms. A memory came back to her quite suddenly and vividly.

Diana and Eleanor had just opened their presents one year when Diana had been five and Eleanor was seven. Diana had been given a beautiful brunette doll who wore a lovely green gown. The doll had dark hair and brown eyes just like Diana. She thought it was the most beautiful doll she’d ever seen.

“What’s her name?” Diana had asked her parents. They told her it was her duty to name her doll, but she then looked to her older sister as always for guidance in such crucial matters. “Eleanor, what should I call her?”

“Why, little fox, she’s Mrs. Crumpet, of course. She’s a duchess, you know,” Eleanor had declared so confidently that Diana had accepted the name without question.

As quickly as her memories had led her away, she returned once more to Isla’s bedside.

“Mrs. Crumpet... a duchess, of course.” Diana’s voice wavered as she whispered the doll’s name. It was such an old memory, one that she’d quite forgotten... until now. A brush against her shoulder had her turning, expecting to see Rafe behind her, but no one was there.

Except perhaps there was. Diana felt the silvery presence move through and around her, and her soul glowed with a quiet, unshakeable joy.

“Thank you, Eleanor. Thank you for coming home.”

It might have been a whisper of wind against the panes of glass from the snow flurries outside or the whistle of sap from the logs on the fire. It might have been her imagination or wishful thinking. Whatever the source, she heard the words and felt the love they carried with the magic of Christmas.

“Love you, little fox . . .”

Diana kissed Isla’s forehead, and the little girl smiled in her sleep the same way Rafe did. She truly was the daughter of his heart. Diana’s life had been upended at the loss of her family, and a deep well of grief had opened within her. Now that well was filled with love for her new family.

Before she had met Rafe and Isla, she’d had a family, the people at Foxglove who had stood by her and cared for her. More than once, Rafe had reminded her that even during her bleakest moments, when her shine had dimmed, she’d had the light of others to burn for her in the dark. And now her family at Foxglove had grown with the addition of Rafe and Isla. He had given her back so much of herself, and she could never stop showing him how much she loved him. She heard Ashton’s words that day they’d rescued him from Caddington: “Rafe, you are the heart of this family.” And he was right. Rafe was all heart, and he’d chosen to love her with that heart.

She lingered a moment longer in the nursery as sunny dreams danced in her mind’s eye, promising a wonderful future for her growing family. Then she headed for her bedchamber, where Rafe was waiting for her.

She paused when she noticed a lone candle someone had left unattended on a little table between two tapestries. She lifted it and blew out the candle before setting it back down on the table. The smoke curled up in the moonlight, and she felt a cold whisper of wind behind her.

Something hard and circular pressed against her lower back and a gloved hand suddenly encircled her throat, holding her firmly without squeezing. She sucked in a shocked breath as a hard, hot body held her immobile from behind.

“Easy, lass. Ye wouldna wish to wake the house,” a cool, seductive voice murmured in her ear. “Now take me to yer bedchamber.”

“Why?” she hissed.

“Because ye owe me, little fire drake, and I’ve come to claim what’s mine.” Warm, silken lips caressed her ear before the wicked intruder nibbled on the lobe, making her moan.

The man forced her to guide them to her bedchamber door, and he ushered her inside with a wave of his pistol before he closed the door behind him, smiling at her from behind a black domino. The piercing blue eyes of her beloved, wicked Tyburn stared back at her.

“Stand and deliver... wife ,” the highwayman commanded as he waved his pistol at her dressing gown. “I want my prize.”

Heart hammering, she unlaced the front of her dressing gown and let it pool at her feet. She hesitated with the ties of the chemise at her collarbone, and he growled for her to continue as he leaned back against the closed door, blocking her escape with his lithe, muscled body.

“I’m afraid I have nothing to give you,” she whispered, excitement racing along her skin.

“Yer body is all I need, but I’ll steal yer heart too since I’m a greedy man.” The masked man pushed away from the door, tossing the pistol aside and seizing her. His gloved hands roved over her body as he rid her of her chemise and bared her naked body to his gaze. He stroked the leather-covered tips of his fingers over her hard nipples and cupped each breast, kneading them, without ever taking his eyes off her.

His eyes narrowed. “Ye seem more sensitive than I remember,” he mused as he tugged on one nipple.

She gasped and arched into him. “Perhaps because...” She stifled her words, catching herself before she said too much.

“Because what?” he asked, his voice sinfully dark and dangerous. He tugged at one breast almost roughly, just the way she liked it.

“I forget... oh Lord...” Her body was almost shaking with need for him now. “How did you know?” He stroked one hand over her bare bottom, caressing it while somehow making her feel deliciously owned by him.

How could he have known that she loved Tyburn as much as she loved Rafe? That they were two beings who belonged together in this world within the same man— her man .

“Because I love ye, lass, and I ken what ye need, that when the moon is high and the wind whistles down the lonesome roads, ye need to see me, need to be claimed by me.”

“Yes,” she agreed, writhing in his arms. “Please . . . Please . . . ”

“Tell me how ye want it, sweet little lass,” he crooned against her ear.

“I want it wicked.”

He cupped her face, his mouth slanting over hers, his tongue ruthless between her lips as he showed her what he soon would do, and it melted her insides in the most wanton way.

“Then ye’ll take me as I wish,” he warned with a dark laugh. Suddenly she was turned around to face away from him, and he bent her over the bed. He tossed his gloves aside and trailed his strong, elegant fingers down her bare back, then under her to cup her breasts. She braced herself on her elbows, moaning as he played with her. He moved closer behind her, and she heard him unfasten his trousers.

“Now, little fire drake, take me. Make me burn.” His cock thrust into her as he grasped her hips, his fingers digging in. She was full, so full of him, and she whimpered at the sheer pleasure of that all-consuming feeling of belonging to this man. She pushed back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“Yes,” he rasped in dark victory. “Yer mine, lass, mine... always.”

“Always,” she echoed as she was struck with a climax with the force of a lightning bolt. She couldn’t make a single sound as pure, blinding pleasure shot through her. Diana collapsed limp on the bed as the highwayman continued to slake his lust upon her, and she reveled in his hoarse cry as he came a few moments later. He held still, deep within her, breathing hard, and her body held him, still pulsing with faint aftershocks.

He slowly withdrew and gently settled her upon the bed. He shed all but the domino before he returned to her side with a wet cloth. She shyly parted her legs as he wiped her clean, then crawled into bed beside her, taking her into his arms.

“I have something else to give you,” she said as she lay on his chest and stared up at his masked countenance.

“Oh?”

She slipped the mask from his face and saw Rafe’s eyes crinkle with love and mischief.

“The problem is,” she said with a little smile, “I couldn’t quite manage putting it under that beautiful tree.”

“Big, is it?” he teased. “ How big?” He was like a child ready to tear into his gifts.

“Actually, at the moment, it’s rather small,” she admitted. “But it will grow, and I think Isla will be quite excited about it too.”

Rafe’s eyes suddenly glowed in the candlelight. “And what could be small but grow, that Isla would like? You didn’t buy her a kitten, did you? I was thinking of giving her one of the barn cat’s kittens in a few weeks, when it’s old enough.”

“No,” Diana laughed. “Although it will want milk and it will cry, just as kittens do.”

The look on his face, the shock followed by joy and wonder... how she had longed to see that. The wonder of a man knowing he would become a father a second time.

He grasped her, pulling her even closer to him. “You speak the truth? You are with child?” His voice was breathless, and his excitement made his smile dance.

“Yes, quite sure,” she promised him. “I shall give you what I’ve given no other man.”

He cupped her face with one hand, brushing his thumb over her lips.

“You already gave me something you’ve given no other man—you gave me your heart.”

“Then you are twice blessed,” she teased, but his deep gaze, so intense, stole her smile and her breath.

“I am forever blessed, Diana.”

Diana saw the heart belonging to her wicked highwayman, Rafe Lennox, shining like the gold of the coming dawn of a perfect Christmas morning.

Thank you so much for reading Her Wicked Highwayman . The next book in the series will be about Thomasina Lennox, in a fun flashback tale! Be sure to follow me on Social Media and sign up for my newsletter to be alerted when it releases!

Turn the page to read a fun note where I discuss the inspiration for Rafe’s story, the emotional journey of the Lennox siblings and share some fun historical tidbits!