“Would you become my countess? It is the wish of my heart. This time I will make sure you do not leave me behind.” He leaned in and laughed against her hair. “Please say you will and make me the happiest of men.”
“I have dreamed of my life with you, even when it was painfully clear I would never have one. I would never have willingly left the biggest part of my heart behind. Yes, I will marry you!” She leaned into his warmth and looked into his eyes.
His lips teased, then locked on hers. This was not the place he had imagined gaining the woman of his dreams. Willow neighed playfully and slowed her speed. Did all animals champion this woman? “I think we should hurry with this marriage. My body demands more of you, and I fear we could become scandalous if I never let you out of my bed,” he teased.
Meg reached her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. “My lord, that could be quite scandalous.” Her eyes glittered with mischief. “For now, I would like to drink my fill of your wonderful kisses.” A smile flickered on her lips.
Her invitation was all he needed.
Epilogue
Three months later
Maggie sat on her favorite window seat and enjoyed the sunshine warming away the last vestiges of winter. The large red velvet seat cushion felt more like a small bed—soft, plush, and with the sunshine, warm. She set down her latest copy of The Women’s Monthly Museum and pulled her knees to her chin. Staring out the window in Max’s library provided the best view of the garden outside. The gardener had recently planted the white rose bushes he had uprooted from her family’s property in the sunniest corner of the garden. They were showing signs of blooms already. She smiled, thinking her mother would approve. She had never stopped missing her family, particularly her mother. Thinking her mother watched over her comforted her. She hoped to feel her mother’s presence that moment when she became a mother herself.
Maggie rested her hands on her stomach, pleased she barely showed. Her maid, Anna knew. To describe her as inquisitive was an understatement. Anna boldly asked about her missing courses, and Maggie swore her to secrecy. Secrecy. She laughed at the thought. That surely meant Gertie knew, which meant Harriett also knew. But to their credit, everyone acted oblivious to her increasing.
After losing Lilly, she wanted to be sure of this child’s health before announcing her pregnancy to anyone. Max knew her body well, and she imagined that he suspected, but she had kept the confirmation of it to herself. She reddened, thinking of his lovemaking; never had she imagined the act would be so satisfying, and she never tired of seeing all of him.
After her first marriage—which she preferred to think of as bondage—she was both anxious and frightened of their joining. His patience won her body over, leaving her continually craving his touch.
Lady Worsley and Angela orchestrated the wedding of her dreams, and Max stole her off to a friend’s castle in Scotland for a short honeymoon. They needed the time to unwind and heal—and heal they did. She blushed to the roots of her hair.
A knock at the door of the library pulled her from her musings. “Lady Worsley, you have a visitor.” Cabot stood erect. She bit her bottom lip, desperate to hold back her smile. Shep stood there beside him. Since the wedding, she had learned that she had to share her little friend with several in the household. Cabot frequently tossed a ball with Shep when he thought no one saw. He threw it up and down the hall to Shep’s delight. The dog frequently followed Cabot, hoping for a game.
“It is Mr. Nizal.” He held out the salver with Nizal’s card.
Maggie nodded. “Please send him in.” Perhaps it was the regent’s decision regarding her uncle. “Please have tea brought in for us.”
“Yes, my lady.” The retainer and his furry companion stepped from the doorway as Mr. Nizal entered.
“Your ladyship. Thank you for seeing me. I have news. I was hoping to catch Lord Worsley too.”
“You may be in luck, Mr. Nizal. He and Lord Harlow have just returned. I saw them head to the stables shortly before you arrived. Let me warm you up with a cup of tea while we wait?”
“Thank you, my lady. I enjoy a good cup of tea.” The short man sat on the chair nearest him, carefully maintaining his seat on the cushion’s edge to allow his legs to touch the ground.
Maggie tried not to notice. A footman arrived with the tea service, and she poured them each a cup. “Sugar?” She held the sugar tongs, prepared to sweeten his cup.
“Thank you. Yes.” He picked up a scone from the tray and stuffed it into his mouth, forcing her to busy herself with her own cup.
The door opened, and Max and Harlow entered. “Nizal, Cabot informed us you were here. We are eager for news.”
Maggie silently inquired about tea, but both men waved it off and moved toward the fireplace on the opposite wall for warmth.
“They sentenced Viscount Winters to hang. The evidence from the deaths of your family, Lady Worsley, and his deliberate killing of your late husband countered any help his recent title could have afforded him. I heard the regent was not in his favor, having heard other stories of his mischief,” the inspector reported laconically. He regarded Maggie. “I apologize for my bluntness, my lady.”
“Nonsense. To hear of this provides a sense of closure.” And good riddance, she thought to herself. She hated to feel uncharitable toward anyone, but she felt only hatred for her uncle and all he had cost her. Her hand subconsciously touched her stomach.
“That is all the news I have, so I will take my leave. I wanted to make sure you heard it as soon as they announced it. I realize with your lordship’s connections you could already
