Not wanting anyone to see her, she entered through the door that opened to the side terrace and slipped upstairs via the service stairs to her bath. In the mirror, her face was almost livid in its splotchiness.
She splashed her eyes with cold water, toweled her face dry, walked into her bedroom and lit the lamps. She didn’t believe Fitz would invite Mrs. Englewood to dine at Henley Park, but she was not about to take herself down to the dining room to find out. She’d have her dinner upstairs, by herself.
The sound of running feet stormed down the passage toward her room. Her door blew open. Fitz braced one hand on the doorjamb, breathing hard, as if he’d run across the breadth of Henley Park.
“You idiot. Where the hell have you been?”
“I was—out on a walk.”
“Mrs. Gibson told me you left for a walk in the morning, before eleven o’clock. It’s half past nine at night now. We’ve been searching for you for the past four hours. God, I just gave the order to dredge the lake. I was afraid—I was afraid that—and then I saw your light come on—”
She was suddenly lifted up and pushed against the bedpost. He kissed her as if the entire world had become a vacuum and she its last remaining conduit of oxygen.
“Don’t ever do this to me again,” he growled, when he pulled away for a minute to pant.
“But Mrs. Englewood, you are—I saw you, the two of you together.”
“What?”
“On the new bridge. You were holding her—tight.”
“Of course I was. I’d just told her that I belong here—with you.”
“Oh,” she said.
He had chosen her in the end. She could not help it. She wept again. “And was Mrs. Englewood all right?”
“I think so. She said she’ll return to her sister’s place in Aberdeen—her children are still there. She didn’t want me to accompany her back so I cabled Hastings to wait on her when she got off at London. He already cabled back. They’d had tea together and he’d seen her off at the rail station.”
“I hope she’ll be happy,” Millie said through her tears. “I hope she’ll be as happy as I am now.”
He crushed her to him. “I’ve been such a fool.”
“So have I. If I’d let on earlier, if I hadn’t been so afraid—”
His kiss swallowed the rest of her words.
“Let me go and call off the search, so people aren’t stumbling about in the dark looking for nothing.” He kissed her again. “Better get some rest now. After I come back I’m not letting you sleep a wink.”
“All right, go,” she said, a great big smile on her face, tears still falling.
Oww,” said Fitz.
“Are you all right?”
He’d returned some time ago and she’d pushed him into bed and leaped on top of him. She was still on top of him, running her hand over his arm, nipping him on his shoulder.
He dug out a framed photograph from under his back. “I must have left this on your bed when I was here earlier, waiting for you to come back from your walk.”
She sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t know you were hurting all this time. I’m so—”
He put a finger over her lips and grinned raffishly. “Trust me, I didn’t feel it at all.”
They spent a moment looking at the photograph, with the two of them standing together at the edge of a picture that should have included only Hastings. It was her favorite—she had a framed print in every house and several unframed prints stashed in her dressing room.
“Let’s cut Hastings out,” Fitz suggested. “So it will be only the two of us.”
She giggled. “Poor Hastings.”
“I’m sure he’ll volunteer to leave us alone.”
The photograph safely out of the way on the nightstand, he kissed her. “So, this is what it feels like to be married to the woman I love.”
The woman I love. She would never tire of the sound of it. “Satisfactory, I hope.”
He cupped her face. “For years I’d wondered how my life might have been different—better—had I been able to go back in time and change certain crucial events. Extending the previous’s earl’s lifespan, for example, or causing the north wing to never have been built. After a while I stopped such speculations because I was busy and there was no point. But now I know: I wouldn’t change a thing, because only this life I’ve lived could have led me here, with you.” He traced a finger over her brow. “And I’m beyond glad to be here, with you.”
Her eyes turned moist again. “I love you.”
“I love you.” He kissed her again. “And I love everything about you.”
Smiling through her tears, she kissed the signet ring on his hand. Then, she licked it as she’d wanted to do for years and years. “Now, Lord Fitzhugh, I give you a choice: supper or me?”
“You, my love.” He pulled her toward him. “Always you.”
AUTHOR’S NOTE