Epilogue

One year later

L iza Ettinger was a spitfire. She couldn't talk, walk, or manage to get her own fist in her tiny, perfectly shaped mouth. But she was still perfectly capable of making her displeasure known to one and all.

As she released her considerable fury in a wail that could wake the dead, her father smiled down at her, completely and hopelessly in love. In love with her, in love with her mother. Honestly, he was quite in love with life itself.

"You're spoiling her," Stavers warned.

"I have it on good authority that babies cannot be spoiled. They can only be loved," Joss corrected him. "And even if I am spoiling her, so what? She deserves it. She's perfect, after all... just like her mother."

Across the room, seated with Honoria, Hettie lifted her head and met his gaze. Her smile, as always whenever it fell on him, was like the warmth of the sun shining on him.

Vincent stepped forward. "Give me my niece before you trip over your own tongue as you gaze at your adoring wife like a lovesick calf."

A profane retort burned on his tongue. Had he not been holding his infant daughter, it would have already been uttered with no small amount of enthusiasm. Instead, Joss replied, "You're certainly one to talk. I can practically see stars in your eyes whenever you look at Honoria. And as for you, Stavers, I've seen you sniffing about after Mrs. Wheaton. Don't think we don't know what's going on there."

Stavers shrugged. "We're both old enough to not have to worry about consequences like the one you're holding. That makes it none of your damn business."

Joss grinned but did hand Liza over to Vincent. "Take her. But do not fill her mind with nonsense. She doesn't need lessons from infancy on how to cheat at faro or land a right hook."

Vincent took the baby with an ease and familiarity that would have been shocking only weeks earlier. But in that time, he'd come to dote on his tiny niece. He whispered close to her ear, "And you don't need a right hook. You'll likely be smaller than anyone you have to hit, so an uppercut will be a better tool in your arsenal. When you're a little bigger, Stavers will teach you."

Joss walked away, shaking his head. He hadn't thought living a life of leisure would suit him. Thought, it wasn't all that leisurely. There had been another smaller house on the estate Vincent had taken in lieu of payment of a debt. That was where he and Hettie currently resided with their child and a small number of servants. He still took on inquiry work from time to time, but for very select clients who paid well for his services. Hettie continued to manage her charity with the aid of Annie Foster, who was no longer a lady's maid but a personal secretary. It was quite the step up for her, and despite her ordeal, the young woman was thriving. In short, the chaos, upheaval, and near tragedy that Simon Dagliesh had visited upon all of them—while not forgotten—was being laid to rest with each step forward all of them took.

"Do not encourage him," Hettie said as he neared her. "The very second you tell Vincent not to teach her something horrid, he only becomes more determined to do so!"

Which was the point, to his mind. Throwing a solid punch, regardless of one's gender, was a valuable skill to have.

Leaning down, he kissed her cheek then gave her a wink. "Of course. And he played perfectly my hand."

"You'll raise her to be a hoyden if you have your way," Hettie accused, though it lacked heat.

"As if you'd have it any other way."

She sighed wearily. "Of course I wouldn't. You know me too well."

"And love you more with every day."

Honoria rose. "I believe I shall go wrest my niece from Vincent before he offers her a matched pair of white horses and a gilt carriage."

Despite the jest, there was an air of sadness about Honoria. "She wants a child of her own very badly," Hettie observed softly.

"I'm certain it will happen for them. It is certainly not for lack of trying on their part... but as your sister is very fond of breaking rules and defying expectations, there are children out there who need homes and who need love quite by the thousands. You needn't bear a child to love it. You need only ask the Duchess of Clarenden. She raised and loved countless young women as if they were her own daughters."

Hettie nodded. "When Hettie and I are alone, I shall speak to her about it. But for now, while our daughter is well tended and completely occupied with everyone else, why don't we take a walk?"

"Where would you like to walk to?" he asked.

"Our chamber... we have a rare opportunity to be alone."

Joss took her hand and they slipped quietly from the room, secure in the knowledge that all would be right in their world.

The End