Isabella stood to her right and Bash and Ewan on Noah’s other side.
And while she’d forged a beautiful new marriage with Noah, one she was so grateful for, she even said a bit of thanks that her cousin Ewan had been there too.
Her mother had lost contact with her sisters and if there was one silver lining in all that had happened over the past few years, it was that the cousins had come back together.
They were a family again.
The breakfast was served in the captain’s quarters and as Avery held Noah’s hand, she looked to Ewan. “Can I tell you something?”
“Of course,” he replied.
“I know you said yesterday that you thought love and marriage a plague.”
He shrugged. “I did. More or less.”
She smiled. “But I hope you find it, anyway.”
His face shuddered. “With all due respect, lass, ye don’t ken me.”
“I know. You didn’t know me either. It didn’t make you wrong.”
That made him smile. “I suppose ye’er right. And I maintain, yer bloody hard to argue with.”
She winked at him. “And remember this. Marriage and love, they don’t have to be a noose. In fact, they can be the reward.”
Ewan shook his head. “I wish I could believe ye.”
Noah leaned forward. “You know my past, Ewan. Enough anyhow. Trust me when I say if I can find joy in matrimony so can you.”
And then her new husband looked down at her, bending over to whisper in her ear. “You are my everything, my love. Your strength is only outmatched by your kindness. I hope Ewan takes your advice.”
“Me too,” she replied with a smile. “But even more than that, I’m glad that I found my way to you.”
He kissed her nose, then rubbed the tip of his against hers. “It was meant to be.”
“Forever.”
“Forever.”
Laird of Longing is the next book in the series and includes a series epilogue that will leave you with clues for the future of the Lords of Scandal series. The book, however, is not up for pre-order because it’s in a multi-author set but it will release in July! Want to know as soon as it releases? Sign up for my newsletter here: http://www.tammyandresen.com/
In the meantime, please check out the sneak peek of the new series I’m launching: Duke’s Dark Legacy. The first book, Her Wicked White will launch this June!
Her Wicked White Duke’s Dark Legacy
Benedict White, Duke of Whitehaven, sat at his desk. Well, his father’s desk, or at least the large piece of mahogany furniture still felt that way to him. He stared at a freshly poured glass of whisky. Its amber color winked in the firelight as he gently swirled the contents.
What a fucking shit day it had been, and it was only ten in the morning.
“Are you going to drink that, love?” a woman said from the doorway, giving him a practiced smile.
He glared at the wench who’d interrupted his thoughts. He’d hired her the night before with the intent of fucking her in his father’s bed. He’d ended up leaving her in the room to sleep alone while he’d sat, most of the night, with his back against his own headboard an entire floor away.
Again, he supposed the master’s bedroom was now his, but either way, he’d left the wench in the that bedroom alone. It turned out he didn’t hate his father enough to actually go through with the plan.
And he hadn’t the heart to send the woman home in the rain. That particular decision hadn’t worn well in the light of day.
Not there was much light. A hard rain still fell and had soaked him near to the bone as he’d stood outside at his father’s funeral.
His gut clenched. He wasn’t mourning. That much was clear. Their relationship had been difficult at best. But he wasn’t happy either. A feeling he couldn’t quite square.
“Here’s your coin.” He gestured to a satchel on the desk.
She sauntered into the room, hips swaying as she looked him up and down. “You’re paying me for sleeping in that thick feather mattress alone?” Her mouth tipped into a sultry grin.
His jaw clenched so hard he thought his teeth might shatter. He’d never not bedded a woman before. It was damned odd, and he didn’t want to think about it, let alone discuss it with her. “Take your money and go.”
“There’s still time to do the deed.” She leaned forward, displaying what little cleavage she possessed. “You’re a very handsome man. I could enjoy a roll with one like you. Or a tup on the desk.”
His hand tightened around the glass. “Let me be clear. It’s time for you to go.”
She shrugged then. “What will people think? You inviting me here and then not…” She gave him a meaningful stare.
He stood then. She wasn’t the largest woman, and he was a tall man, more than six feet, his shoulders broader than most. He leaned over the desk, setting down his glass. “Are you threatening me?” His voice dropped low and deep. Her eyes widened and he pulled his lips tight over his teeth as he leaned closer. It had been a shit day and he was in no mood for whatever tricks she had in mind.
“Your Grace,” a second female said from the doorway. “Why don’t you send your friend off with a bit of extra coin for her trouble?”
He looked around the wench at his desk to his father’s second wife staring at him with her brows raised in a question. His father’s widow had to be younger than Ben. If he recalled correctly, the elder duke had decided to remarry after a decade of being alone. He’d picked the prettiest debutante of the season and wed her that spring. But the last Duke of Whitehaven had to have been thirty years older than his second wife.
Ben hadn’t attended the wedding; in fact he’d only been home once in the six
