Evanston’s carriage wheeled up the drive of Hawthorne Manor, his country estate. Burton could be seen standing proudly upon the top stair. Once they had stopped completely, footmen would jump into action, unloading trunks and conveying their belongings inside for unpacking. Another glossy black carriage sharing the Evanston family seal was conspicuously parked to one side, the coachman tending to the horses as they whickered restlessly. Thomas’s eyes widened at the sight, then hung his head and sighed.

“My mother, unannounced, as ever. I suppose I must subject myself to her presence now that I have healed.” His eyes shifted to Eliza accusingly. “Unless you knew about this already?”

She laughed and raised her hands in capitulation. “My only crime was updating the viscountess on your progress, and perhaps . . . er . . . providing her with the date of our return to Kent.”

He stared at her mutely, then addressed her in a low voice.

“You did what?”

As the vehicle bounced to a halt, she clasped his fingers gently between her own.

“Forgive me, darling. I felt that even your mother, such as she is, deserved to know the welfare of her only child. Surely you would not deny her the chance to see your recovered state for herself.” Eliza raised his hand to her lips, then lowered it to gaze at him fondly. “And in my defense, I received no reply, so could not readily anticipate her being here today. Not for certain.”

Evanston stared at her, still annoyed, but relaxing a bit. “You, of all people, should know what that woman is capable of.” He slumped backwards against the cushions of the vehicle’s interior. “I’d willingly slide back into unconsciousness to avoid her company.”

She tsked chidingly and leaned in to kiss the corner of his downturned mouth. “Come now, Thomas. That isn’t being very charitable. While it’s true she’s said some awful things in the past—”

“I can’t remember a time when she’s said something nice,” he muttered under his breath.

“—I feel that if she is willing to finally show some concern for your well-being, that perhaps you could let her try?”

Her brilliant green eyes held his gaze in steady contemplation, and while he knew she was trying to convince him of the validity of her point, he could see empathy there too. Eliza sighed softly. “Although, if you truly wish her to leave, I do understand. Since I informed her of our imminent arrival, I will go speak with her myself and ask her to depart.”

She had provided him with a means of avoiding his mother, but if it would make Eliza happy for him to walk in there and speak to the woman, then, by God, he would make an attempt. Besides, no one said the conversation had to be lengthy.

With a grunt of assent, he leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. “You may owe me for this later.” Her complexion glowed at his words. Clearly it was a price she was willing to pay.

He descended off the metal steps and Thomas handed her safely down off the carriage.

“Burton,” called Eliza. “Please have tea brought to the drawing room.”

The butler, who clearly held her in high regard, snapped into action with a nod of assent. “Yes, my lady,” he replied smartly. “And might I just add, my lord,” he said meeting the viscount’s eyes, “it is so good to have you both at home.” He smiled surreptitiously at Eliza before disappearing into the house.

Thomas gave Eliza an amused look. “It appears you’ve already gained the admiration of my staff,” he teased.

Before she could reply, the soft beat of footsteps caused the pair to turn. Lady Evanston had emerged from inside Hawthorne Manor and stood now upon the front stairs, her demeanor hesitant and unsure for perhaps the first time in her life. Rather than the harsh black mourning dress she had insisted on wearing in the time since his father’s death, she had tempered her choice of clothing, wearing the rich purples and violets of half-mourning instead. Her hat was a rather understated affair in muted gray, not the sharp black feathered things that normally protruded from her head. He felt his brows lift in amazement.

“Hello, Mother,” he said slowly.

Eliza stood silently beside him, her hand wrapping securely around his own. She nodded at the woman and dipped into a curtsy.

“My lady.”

Lady Evanston’s black gaze flitted between the two of them, finally coming to rest on her son. The corner of her thin lips twitched in what could have resembled a smile.

“Greetings. Thomas, you must be much improved,” she stated, her eyes scanning over him to appraise his condition. “Lady Eliza informed me of the dire nature of your injury, but I am still uncertain how you came to acquire it in the first place.”

Christ. Here we go . . .

He would not coat the truth with sugar merely to appease his judgmental mother, but still did not happily anticipate her reaction. A light squeeze of Eliza’s fingers gave him the extra motivation he required.

Evanston cleared his throat. “You will appreciate the irony, I am sure, of my former mistress hiring a thug to attack me. It seemed my love for Eliza brought out her more sinister side.”

His mother’s eyelids lowered to skewer him with a hooded stare. “Tarrying with the wrong sort of woman? Perhaps it served you right.” He then registered her gaze flicking over to Eliza, who was likely directing her own glare at the viscountess. A slight mien of remorse passed over her face and the older woman’s lips twisted in censure. “What I mean to say is, I’m glad you’re all right.” She tipped her nose slightly higher in the air. “Am I to understand this criminal was never apprehended?”

Thomas shook his head. “No, although I did receive a vague letter of apology from Mrs. Varnham, just prior to her seemingly disappearing into thin air. Apparently, she didn’t wish to murder me at all, but only wanted to express her strong displeasure over being slighted.” He slid his arm around Eliza and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter any longer.”

“No,” agreed the elder woman, taking a step closer to stand next to them on the drive. “I suppose it doesn’t.” Lady Evanston laced her gloved hands together before her. “And am I also to understand that you two are to be married?”

He pressed a kiss to the side of Eliza’s head, who smiled happily in return.

“You are,” he replied, his heart swelling with joy, still in wonder at the sudden turn his life had taken. After such an uphill fight, his heart still sometimes struggled to believe that the battle had finally been won.

“Well then, I would like to offer a gift.” The lady glanced over her shoulder towards her carriage, and her footman appeared suddenly as if on cue, a small decorative box in his hands. He gave the box to Lady Evanston who stared solemnly at it before raising her eyes to Eliza. She extended it towards her.

“This is for you, if you would like it.”

Thomas watched as Eliza opened the gilded box to reveal a large emerald ring, glowing incandescently in the cloud-filtered sunlight that shone from above. He could detect her soft intake of breath as she removed it from its cushioned seat reverently to behold it aloft. The vibrant green center stone twinkled amidst the halo of pale, sparkling diamonds that surrounded it.

Given his recent injury and convalescence, Thomas had not yet had an opportunity to find a ring for Eliza, a situation he had intended to remedy immediately. He jerked his gaze up to meet his mother’s eyes, his head tipped in inquiry.

“This is not your wedding ring.”

Lady Evanston scoffed and evaluated him in something akin to horror. “I would not dream of cursing your bride with a token of such a contentious marriage,” she admitted openly. “However, my mother enjoyed a happy arrangement with my father, and this was hers.”

“Did you know,” said Eliza, her words stilted and overcome with emotion, “the emerald is my birthstone?”

Thomas knew birthstones were commonly used in engagement rings, although he couldn’t imagine his mother had actively planned such a fortunate coincidence.

“I did not,” the viscountess said quietly, “but I believe that bodes well.”

Hesitantly, with great care and respect, Eliza slid the ring onto her finger. The fit was perfect, and she glanced up at Thomas in delight. He raised his eyebrows and smiled.

“It suits you, my love,” he murmured softly, his joy at seeing her pleased expression causing his heart to constrict.

Thomas stepped closer to his mother and she stiffened at his approach, years of reinforced barriers between them conditioning her response one more time. He paused, waiting for her to be at ease, finally leaning down to place a soft kiss upon her cheek when she was. Despite her prickly exterior, Lady Evanston’s eyes fell briefly closed at the gesture of affection. He straightened to look at her, viewing the woman as if she were some new variant of deep sea creature, never before having been discovered or seen.

“Thank you, Mother,” he said gruffly, glancing uncomfortably away. “Whatever my faults may be, I admire you for ignoring them in appreciation of my bride-to-be, who has none.”

Eliza snorted lightly in reproach and pushed at his arm.

Lady Evanston’s amused glance shifted from Eliza back to Thomas. “Whatever your faults, Thomas, and I think we know you have more than a few, I can see you are marrying a woman who is entirely capable of standing up for herself. It’s a more valuable quality than perhaps you know, one I only acquired after my husband’s passing. Besides,” she said, “you seem newly open to the idea of reform, and I hope to know my new granddaughter—perhaps better than I’ve permitted myself to know my son.” She cast a sheepish glance in Eliza’s direction.

“I think Rosa would like to know you, as well,” Eliza replied, her gaze suddenly turning uncertain. “Although, you should be aware that she is a rather unconventional child . . .”

With a firm shake of her head, the viscountess silenced Eliza on the subject. “I have known your venerated family for decades, Lady Eliza. Do you really think I would expect anything less?” She leaned closer with a conspiratorial glance to each side, then spoke in a hushed tone. “I used to love playing in the mud. It drove both my mother and the laundry maid to distraction.”

Eliza’s mouth fell open a second before she erupted into laughter. “Well, then, I can see you two getting along quite well,” she answered warmly.

Eliza was here with him, conversing easily with his mother, wearing his family’s ring on her finger, standing on the drive of the estate that they would soon share together. It was hard to believe after everything that had transpired this past year, and he felt he was close to bursting with happiness.

Thomas could feel his temperature increasing, and the urge to find himself alone with Eliza had suddenly become unbearable. Tamping down the inconvenient rise of his desire for her, he forced himself to address his mother and gestured to the house.

“Would you care to join us for some tea?” he inquired politely amidst a haze of indecent thoughts about his soon-to-be wife.

Lady Evanston laughed dismissively and brushed past them, making her way towards her awaiting vehicle. “Good heavens, no. I’ve no intention of overstaying my welcome so soon. Besides, you’ve only just arrived back home. I’m sure you wish to rest after your taxing journey.”

“Rest,” he echoed in eager relief, not thinking of rest at all. “Yes, absolutely.”

He slid a hand around Eliza’s waist, and with a snap of the reins, his mother’s carriage lurched away back down the drive, the gravel crunching beneath the wheels as it went. Thomas and Eliza waved until the gleaming black shape could no longer be discerned along the pathway. Then he tugged her unceremoniously against him, his hand imprisoning the delicate line of her jaw so he could lower his mouth greedily to hers. She uttered a tiny noise of surprise before readily submitting to his hunger, then thought better of it, shoving firmly at his chest to cast an uneasy glance at their surroundings. Likely not by coincidence, the scene had become curiously devoid of servants.

“Not here, Thomas,” she whispered fervently. Her eyes darted around in thought. “Upstairs?”

Desperate now, he gripped Eliza’s elbow as he strode to the house. Exhilaration flooded through his body, ready and eager to claim her. For the thousandth time since winning her heart, he felt like the luckiest man alive.

“Perhaps the library,” he replied as they started up the stone stairway to the front door. Upstairs seemed so far away. Turning, he could see her evaluative gaze of his aroused state, not missing the way her peridot eyes glowed in appreciation. Wholly unable to resist, he jerked Eliza against him for another heady kiss. Then he forced himself to withdraw in an effort to resume their route into the manor.

“And if you continue to look at me like that, my lady, we will never even make it inside,” he muttered, pulling her behind him.

They only made it as far as the drawing room, which wasn’t very far at all but would serve given his need. Thomas closed the door securely behind them, then turned to slide his hands around her neck, cradling her there and nipping at her mouth. She moaned softly in heated excitement.

“Do you remember the last time we were in this room?”

Eliza’s dark eyelashes fluttered open to gaze at their surroundings. Her lips curved just before meeting his for another soul-stealing kiss.

“Mmm . . . I do. Tea and sandwiches and . . .” she broke off as he squeezed her breast through her dress “. . . your angry mother.” She laughed breathlessly.

He tugged her bodice down just enough to expose one swollen nipple. He squeezed the bud into rosy distention with his fingers, then lowered his head to moisten it with his mouth. She arched against him with a tiny cry, gripping the rigid curves of his shoulders to pull him closer.

“I was rather remembering you,” he whispered against the soft curve of her breast. He rose up to kiss her again, his hand sliding along her collarbone while his mouth laid claim to hers. “That pink dress of yours . . . and how you were unfathomably nice after a long season of shunning me.” He pressed her against the door. “It was pure torment, but it made me think that all might not be lost.”

“I nearly gave in to you that day,” she murmured, her glassy eyes drifting closed as he curled his fingers around her skirts. “I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you.”

Thomas raised the fall of skirts to expose the shapely length of her stocking-clad legs. He ravished her again with a kiss, then leaned in to press his hips forward, wanting her to feel the magnitude of his arousal. Eliza’s gasp only excited him more.

“Then you shall have me. And this time, I’ll be sure to leave on my cravat. Hold these.”

Her soft laugh faded as he guided her to clasp the bunched mass of her skirts. Then he moved one hand behind her waist while the other slipped intimately between her thighs. Dear God, she was ready for him, and Eliza’s face flushed as she cried out, her breathing turning rapid as his fingers slid into her.

“Oh, Thomas,” she moaned.

An audible knock sounded on the door, and they both froze.

“Yes?” she forced out.

“You requested tea, my lady?”

It was Burton, efficient as ever. Evanston grinned wickedly and resumed his attentions, pressing her harder against the very door that separated their lovemaking from the butler. His fingers worked cleverly beneath her dress, and Eliza’s eyes widened as she attempted to construct a logical response while dealing with such a distraction.

“I—yes . . .” she stammered, clearly struggling. “Take it . . . to the library . . . please . . . oh.”

Thomas smiled at the tiny moan that punctuated the end of her sentence. Thankfully, Burton was steadfast in his efforts to ignore their mischief.

“Right away, my lady,” he replied succinctly.

“Thank y—”

Evanston silenced her with another kiss. Burton could be heard moving away, the jingling noise of the tea set marking his progress, and Eliza’s hips jerked forwards in helpless response to his caresses.

“You are unkind, my lord,” she pouted breathlessly, tearing her mouth away from his.

“On the contrary,” he answered slyly, his rhythm picking up speed, “I am very kind.”

Her cries grew louder, lovely eyes falling closed in near rapture. Thomas would never tire of seeing her submit wantonly to his touch, could finish this right now if he wanted, but it was not nearly enough.

His fingers withdrew and Eliza’s glassy green eyes flew open. They were confused, slightly accusatory, right until they widened in surprise when he dropped to his knees before her. His hands found her again and he circled his thumb over the sweet secretive place that drove her wild, being driven to madness himself by the way she writhed above him.

“Shall I kiss you here?” he asked, his voice thick and husky with longing. He brushed his lips against the vulnerable skin of her thigh, then turned his face to exhale warmly against the most sensitive part of her. Eliza’s breathing quickened eagerly.

“Oh yes—”

He nudged her legs further apart, then plundered her with soft sweeps of his mouth. Her head fell backwards against the polished wood of the door and she stifled a pleading moan, her fingers clutching restlessly at her skirts as his tongue slid and flicked across the overly sensitized flesh. When her hips bucked forward to meet him, he closed his mouth over that one deliciously tender place, kissing and suckling relentlessly until she was no longer able to resist.

The sounds of Eliza finding her pleasure drove him wild with anticipation, and when she had quieted at last, he propelled himself to a stand and unfastened his trousers. She leaned against the oak panel to catch her breath, watching him through a haze of satisfaction and desire, and when he was freed, Thomas gripped the round curve of her bottom to raise her up against the door.

“Welcome home, my love,” he murmured against her lips, just before welcoming her home in the most enjoyable way he knew.

It was the following afternoon when Eliza and Evanston arrived at Lawton Park. Rosa broke away from the housekeeper’s hold to burst out the front doors and hurtle towards her mother with the force of a steam engine. With a laugh and steadying hand on her shoulder from Thomas, Eliza righted her balance and kneeled down to reciprocate her daughter’s affectionate embrace. She nodded at the harried Mrs. Malone, who curtsied and withdrew to allow them space for their reunion, then cinched her arms tightly around her little girl.

“Mama! I didn’t think you’d be here until tonight!” Rosa shifted her dolls in her arms. “We were upstairs and I saw your carriage through the window!”

Eliza buried her face in Rosa’s shining golden ringlets, then pulled back to gaze at her. “We decided to surprise you, my darling. Tell me, have you been a good girl for your aunt and uncle?”

“Yes, Mama,” Rosa declared, followed by a moment of silence. She glanced shyly up at Thomas, her green eyes flitting back to her mother in inquiry.

Acknowledging the silent question with a tip of her head and a soft smile, Eliza reached out to clasp the little girl’s tiny hand.

“Would it please you to know that Thomas and I are soon to be wed?”

Rosa’s large eyes grew even larger. They darted back and forth between both Eliza and Thomas in increasing excitement.

“Really?”

The viscount dropped to one knee, laughing at her exuberance while she threw herself into his arms for a hug. Her dolls collided with his head in the process, but he only chuckled and squeezed her tighter, innumerable emotions passing across his face as he did. Thomas kissed the girl soundly on the cheek, tucking a loose tendril of hair behind her ear to evaluate her seriously.

“I’ve heard you are to thank, at least in part, for talking some sense into your mother.” He winked slyly at Rosa, who grinned brightly in return. She leaned in to make her reply.

“I don’t know what she was thinking,” she whispered.

Evanston laughed loudly. Eliza could not help but giggle herself at the sight of her child gazing at Thomas with such obvious admiration. Rosa leaned in yet again.

“I’ve never had a papa before,” she said softly, as if confessing a great secret.

Thomas stared at her in surprise, then directed his gaze to Eliza, whose own eyes had filled with tears. Eliza parted her lips to speak, but Evanston turned back to address Rosa before she could.

“You have, my sweet, although you do not recall. But one thing I remember is how much he loved you,” he answered, smoothing her hair. “I love both you and your mother, and I can promise I’ll be the very best papa I can be.”

Rosa blinked at him, and a smile spread slowly across her face. She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him once more, and Eliza inclined her head to brush a kiss against his temple. Evanston’s eyes fluttered closed, his handsome features relaxing with a contentment she’d never thought to see upon his face.

When the trio finally rose to a stand they found Clara smiling from the front steps of the manor. Even the usually stern Mrs. Malone could not help but be moved by the scene that had just played out before her, and Lady Ashworth came forwards to rest an affectionate hand on the housekeeper’s arm.

“Mrs. Malone, are their rooms prepared? I know they are a bit early.”

With a huff of pride and a dab at her eyes, Mrs. Malone addressed her mistress. “I always plan for every contingency, my lady, including early arrivals.”

Clara smiled knowingly. “Yes, I should have known better than to ask.” She reached a hand out to Eliza and Evanston. “Please come inside and be settled. You can see what has prevented William from greeting you himself.”

Rosa bounded ahead of the group and raced up the stairs, her chortles resonating behind to echo throughout the foyer. Eliza slipped her fingers into the warm clasp of Thomas’s hand, a seemingly small act that she could not imagine would ever cease to delight her. He caught her gaze, squeezed her fingers, and brought her knuckles to his lips for a kiss.

His brilliant eyes were softened with an affection that she’d not seen outwardly expressed from him during their years of prior acquaintance. Thomas had spent years hiding his emotions behind his flirtations, while she had similarly found comfort in thinking of him as an irredeemable devil. Now, with all those pretenses aside, they could both stop pretending and simply be together, in love.

The group followed Clara into the upstairs gallery where they found William, dressed immaculately in his finest aristocratic garb, standing poised upon a wooden step that had been draped in ruby velvet. A wide area had been covered with a drop cloth, and an artist was positioned at his easel, creating a worthy portrait of the fifth Earl of Ashworth.

Determinedly, her brother held his pose, with fingers tightly gripping the lapel of his crisp blue jacket, although Eliza detected William’s eyes flicking over to her and Evanston. His mouth curved into a slightly embarrassed grin.

“I find the timing of your arrival exceedingly unfair, as I cannot even properly greet you two.”

The artist pursed his lips, causing his dark moustache to twitch, and gave a small sigh of exasperation. “If you could refrain from speaking, my lord, that would be most helpful.”

William rolled his eyes. “Indeed, I cannot even speak.”

Eliza laughed. “I am so happy to see this!” she exclaimed, coming forwards to survey the varying colors and brushstrokes used by the artist to compose a handsome likeness of her brother. Eliza glanced at Clara in grateful approbation. “It is high past time for a commissioned portrait.”

Lady Ashworth stepped closer to Eliza and smiled, her eyes darting between the painting and her beloved. “I agree,” she said, winking at her husband.

Clara squeezed her arm. Eliza turned to meet her gaze. Then her eyes dipped downward. Having an instinctive reaction at seeing the way Clara’s other hand was resting gently upon her abdomen, she froze, unsure, staring at her sister-in-law.

“I thought it especially important to mark William’s place in history now,” admitted the countess, “as it turns out the earl will soon be a father.”

Eliza shouted with joy and threw herself into Clara’s arms for a tight embrace, who laughed and returned the hug. She dashed her happy tears away with impatient swipes of her hand. “What happy news for us all.”

Rosa stopped playing in the corner and glanced up excitedly. “Auntie Clara is having a baby?”

Before Eliza could reply, Thomas strode past her into the middle of the room to approach William. The portrait artist rose testily from his seat to peer over the easel in irritation.

“Pardon me, my lord, but it is quite difficult to—”

In true Evanston fashion, he raised his hand to silence the man, intent on addressing his friend. Eliza could discern William’s posture tighten slightly in apprehension, then he stepped down from his perch and reached out to strongly grip the hand Thomas had extended in his direction. The men shook heartily, staring at one another with profound respect.

“Congratulations, friend,” said Thomas sincerely.

Still clenching Evanston’s hand in his own, William pulled him closer.

“Likewise, brother.”

The gallery was silent for a moment as Thomas struggled not to lose his composure. The earl took mercy on him and tugged him once more to pull him close, his other hand clapping him loudly on the back, before retreating again to look at the viscount.

“Although just to be clear, if you make my sister unhappy, I will kill you,” he added with a lopsided smirk.

“William!” exclaimed both women in unison.

Thomas laughed good-naturedly and raised his hands. “Fair enough.” He gazed tenderly at Eliza. “But there will never be a need.”

Rosa was now standing in the middle of the adults, clinging to her dolls, eyes bulging in her search for answers.

“Auntie Clara is having a baby?” she asked again.

Eliza lowered to a knee and kissed her little girl on the cheek. “Yes, sweetheart. Auntie Clara and Uncle William will be having a baby.”

Rosa’s face transformed, much as it had upon the news of her mother’s impending wedding. She ran across the drop cloth, tripping over the gathered material, to land in Clara’s arms. William crossed over to join the embrace.

“Will the baby want to play with me right away?” she asked, concerned. “I can help Mrs. Humboldt bake the tastiest things, and we can have tea, and—”

“Easy, my darling,” replied William with a smile. “Babies simply like to drink milk and sleep for a while before they are strong enough to play. Although surely once the baby is able to crawl, you two will have all sorts of fun together.”

Rosa grinned, then directed her gaze towards Eliza and Thomas. “Will you have another baby, Mama?”

Far from being a jealous question, she was quite obviously thrilled at the prospect of being surrounded by a plethora of tiny playmates. Eliza felt her face turn red and she awkwardly looked up at Evanston, who grinned like a reprobate.

“I, well, um—” she stammered.

William leaned over to Clara with a roll of his eyes, almost certainly to deliver a sarcastic remark on how Thomas would waste no time in the endeavor. The earl was stopped in his tracks by a narrowed glance from his wife, tempered by a mischievous quirk of her lips.

“Don’t say it,” she warned, catching sight of the ring on Eliza’s finger and gasping aloud. “Oh, that is lovely, Thomas. I wouldn’t have thought you’d have time for formalizing the arrangement with jewelry, given your lengthy recovery.”

A faint smile played about his mouth. “Actually, my mother took the task upon herself.” He raised Eliza’s hand so all could see the twinkling emerald in its bed of diamonds, and Rosa’s greatly exaggerated ooh of appreciation caused Clara to chuckle. Lord Evanston’s deep voice softly rang among the group.

“This belonged to my grandmother, and now it belongs to Eliza.” He lifted her hand to his lips, holding her eyes with his own as he did so.

The rest of the room dissolved away for a moment, and it was only her brother’s abrupt clearing of his throat that brought the pair back into the present. Blushing deeply, Eliza realized they would need to work on concealing their outward affection for one another a little better when out in public.

“Now, dear sister, I have a question for you,” William said, stifling a laugh. “How soon will it be before we can get you out of the Dower House?”