Chapter Thirty-Seven

Dublin, one month later

Niles had never before wondered what the horses at Tattersalls must feel like, being out on exhibit and inspected by everyone who happened past, but he was currently skipping over wondering about it and jumping straight to knowing. He had now been on exhibition and subjected to inspection for a fortnight in Dublin.

Liam Seymour had wasted no opportunity to prove to local society that he had managed a good match for his sister. Niles's many important connections were rattled off to anyone who would listen. The Greenberrys' standing in Cornwall was, perhaps, a little over emphasized. While it was deeply uncomfortable for one who preferred being unnoticed and overlooked, Niles was far more put out at the treatment Penelope was subjected to.

In every public interaction, his fiery and fearsome Penny deferred to her brother. She gave Liam credit for the match, for the connections their family had gained, for essentially every success anyone referenced or even hinted at. And through it all, Liam preened and smugly accepted the acclaim heaped on him.

"We need never return to Dublin if we'd rather not," Penelope had said when Niles had expressed his concerns to her. "I can endure this for the next few days."

"You shouldn't have to," he had insisted.

And in true Penelope Seymour style, she had smiled confidently and said simply, "I know."

Niles's soon-to-be mother-in-law proved to be precisely the person Penelope had described in Yorkshire: elegant, commanding, and utterly exhausting. While Penelope wasn't cowed by her mother, Mrs. Seymour noticeably dampened her daughter's spirits.

"I am beginning to understand even better your attachment to Fairfield," Niles had said after one particularly exasperating meal at the family home.

"It wasn't entirely about escape," Penelope had said, "but I will confess this "—she'd spread her arms out, indicated the entirety of their home and all who lived in it—"has certainly played a role."

Niles suspected, watching her the night before the wedding, that Penelope was as weary as she was excited. He was attempting to formulate an argument that would convince her family to allow her to remain home for the night, where she could be herself and not be required to scrape and bow to her brother and mother.

As if to prove no one strategized as naturally and effortlessly as the General, Aldric arrived at the Seymours' Dublin home just in time to be the excuse they needed. As Niles claimed the closer connection to Aldric, he ought to have been the one to undertake the introductions, but Liam jumped so quickly at the opportunity that there was no chance.

"Mother," Liam said, "this is Lord Aldric Benick, younger son of the Duke of Hartley. Lord Aldric, this is my mother, Mrs. Seymour."

"It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Seymour." Aldric offered a bow that deferred to the lady of the house while still acknowledging his far higher standing. He always managed that and did so without offering the least offense. He was a marvel in many ways. "And a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Seymour." Then he turned to Penelope, and his very formal expression turned far more familial, the sort of brotherly affection Liam ought to have displayed every time he was with his sister. "Miss Seymour. Tomorrow is the happy day, I believe."

Penelope hooked her arm through Niles's. "It is. And all the happier now, knowing you will be here with us."

"We can have Mr. Greenberry moved to another guest chamber," Mrs. Seymour insisted. "The one he is in now is the finest we have. You would be happiest in that room."

"Mother." Penelope sounded appropriately horrified.

"I have obtained lodgings elsewhere, Mrs. Seymour," Aldric said. "No need to displace the groom."

As regal and self-assured as ever, Mrs. Seymour said, "We are to attend a soiree this evening at the home of a very well-respected family, Lord Aldric. They would be most honored if you were to grace them with your attendance as well."

One glance at Penelope and Niles must have told the weeks-long story. Without needing to be asked to save them from more misery, Aldric said, "I look forward to spending the evening here in your lovely home with my good friends." He indicated Niles and Penelope with the smallest movement of his head.

Aldric managed to evade all attempts to change his mind and, within the hour, Mrs. Seymour and Liam were both gone, and there was peace in the house at last.

"Thank you for this," Niles said. "I suspect Penny was at the end of her endurance."

From his seat across from them, Aldric said, "The Gents would do absolutely anything for Mag."

Penelope curled into Niles, and he set his arm around her. "We didn't think any of the Gents would be able to come to Ireland for the wedding."

"The others wanted to be here," Aldric said. "They truly did."

Borrowing a page from Penelope's book, Niles answered, "I know."

"And I haven't the words to express how much Stanley would have wanted to be here." Aldric allowed a small nostalgic smile. "This is what he always wanted for you, Puppy."

Penelope wrapped her arms around Niles.

"He was the most remarkable person I've ever known," Niles said. "He changed my life."

"Mine as well," Aldric said quietly.

"If he were—" Niles swallowed. "If he were here, I would ask him to stand up with me tomorrow. Would you be willing to do so in his place?"

A rare show of emotion entered his eyes. "It would be my very real honor."

?

January 1788

Fairfield was beautiful in the winter. Niles looked forward to seeing it in all the other seasons. But more than that, he looked ahead with eagerness to spending those seasons with Penelope. They'd been married a month, and he found himself amazed at how much his love for her grew every single day.

"Everyone has a dream," Stanley had often said, "but only the truly fortunate ones get to live theirs."

I'm living mine, Stanley. And I think you'd be happy for me.

He and Penelope had ridden out to his land at the far end of Fairfield. They'd settled on the name Penfield, "pen" being the Cornish prefix referring to a place located at the far end of something or somewhere. It also, in Niles's mind, was a reference to Penelope's name.

"This is going to be a lovely spot," his darling wife said, looking over the clearing where, come spring, construction would begin on his personal boxing salon. She smiled at him. "I'm beginning to fear you will be so pleased here that you will never return to the house."

"You'll simply have to join me here," he said.

She held her hand out to him. "I'll join you wherever you'd like to go, my darling."

"London, perhaps?"

She nodded. "I'd follow you to London."

"To the next Gents house party?"

"Gladly."

"And if Henri makes good on his many years of threatening to swim back to France and the Gents are forced to retrieve him?"

"I know how to swim," she answered.

She was an utter delight, and he was the most fortunate man in the world.

Niles pulled her into his arms. She melted against him. "I love you, you know," he said.

"I do," she said. "And I love you."

He'd imagined all his life loving someone and being loved in return, but even those long-held hopes paled in comparison to what he'd found with Penelope. They'd needed a miracle, and fate had provided one.

He was not merely fortunate but doubly so: he was living his dreams with her .

Niles bent toward her and captured her lips in a slow and tender kiss. His darling, wonderful Penny. He had waited so long to find her and could not wait to spend the remainder of their lives together.