He was still here, and he didn’t hate it.

Simon marveled at the changes in his life over the past fortnight. He’d returned home the same broken man who couldn’t bear to face his past, and now he was content and happily contemplating the future.

Even if his hands were a little worse for wear. Actually, they were much improved. He flexed his fingers to prove it to himself—as if he needed to. He’d used them to great benefit just that morning as he’d roused his beloved wife from sleep.

Movement outside the window caught his eye, and he stood from his desk. He walked into the small sitting room between his study and the hall, where Diana sat composing a letter to Verity.

Her left hand lay flat atop the desk above the paper, and the iron band on her finger caught his eye. He still meant to replace it.

Sensing his presence, she turned her head and smiled. “Simon. What are you looking at?” She followed his gaze with hers, landing on her hand.

He went to her side and slipped his fingers beneath hers. “You need a jewel.”

“I need nothing but you.”

He laughed softly. “While that is excellent to hear, my duchess deserves something better than this iron band to wear.”

She gave him an obstinate but charming stare. “If you buy something else, I’ll simply wear this on my other hand.”

Love swelled in his chest. “You are a treasure greater than any jewel,” he murmured as he bent to kiss her temple. He offered the reason he’d come to find her. “They’re here.”

She set the pen down and looked up at him. Taking a deep breath, she stood. “I’m ready.”

They walked together into the hall as the new butler, Eddleston, opened the door. Lowell had evaded prosecution for any part he’d played in Miriam’s death—the blame had fallen squarely on Mrs. Marley. She’d confessed to lying about everything and to setting fire to the scullery with the intention to kill Rose and Diana. The former housekeeper was to be transported any day now.

As the guests came in, Eddleston announced their arrival. As if Simon and Diana didn’t know perfectly well who they were. “The Duke and Duchess of Kilve.”

Simon’s gaze connected with Nick’s, and they exchanged slight nods. Their wives, however, eyed each other warily for a moment. It was Violet, Nick’s new duchess, who spoke first.

“I’m so sorry, Diana.” She winced. Her hazel gaze was apologetic. “You must hate us.”

“Why would I do that? If not for you, I’d be married to him,” Diana said with a tinge of derision as she waved a hand at Nick, “instead of him.” That word carried a warmth of love and desire. She curled her hand around Simon’s arm and gave him a squeeze.

There was a long beat of silence followed by Simon letting out a howl of laughter. Nick immediately joined in, and soon after, Violet did as well. Diana merely smiled, her expression one of a cat who’d just caught every mouse in the barn and had no intention of sharing.

“Come in,” Simon beckoned as he led them to the drawing room.

Violet left her husband and went to Diana. “You’re truly not angry?”

“Not anymore. It all seemed meant to be.” Diana took her hand from Simon and clasped Violet’s hand. They’d become friends at the house party, and Simon was glad to see they apparently would still be. “Are you happy?”

“Never more.” Violet looked to Nick, and the love between them was palpably strong. She returned her gaze to Diana. “Are you?”

“For the first time.” She slid a glance at Simon, and her lips curved up. “Forever.”

Heat spread through Simon. Impossibly, his love for her grew day by day.

“What a sickening lot,” Nick said.

“We deserve it, don’t you think?” Simon asked wryly. He and Nick had known each other since Oxford, and between them had spent more time battling sadness and despair than anyone ought.

“Of course you do,” Violet said. “We all do.”

Nick came forward and stood in front of Diana. “I owe you a sincere apology. I never meant to cause you distress—or scandal. I’m afraid I was an enormous ass.”

“I made him stand in the snow for days before I would forgive him,” Violet said. “I only relented because I feared he would freeze to death.”

Diana put her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle.

“Would’ve served him right,” Simon muttered with a smile.

“Indeed, it would have,” Nick agreed. “But fortune took pity on me, apparently.”

“No, I took pity on you, and don’t ever forget it.” Violet narrowed her eyes at him playfully.

“Anyway, I’m the one that ended up causing a scandal,” Simon said, putting his arm around Diana and drawing her close. “In trying to rescue the fair damsel, I delivered her right into the heart of disaster when we were recognized on the road to Gretna.” Simon had explained all their travails when he’d written to Nick.

“I received a letter from Hannah,” Violet said, glancing toward Simon and Diana. “Mrs. Linford—she hosted the house party where you met.”

Simon briefly recollected that house party and the first time he’d kissed Diana. He’d gone in the hope of emerging from his grief, never imagining that it would so utterly change his life for the better. He itched to kiss her right now.

Violet continued, “Hannah asked if you two were going to duel. Since Simon stole Diana from Nick.”

“What a brilliant idea,” Simon said. “We’ll organize it for the start of the Season and stage it in Hyde Park.”

Diana’s and Violet’s eyes rounded. “You can’t mean that,” Diana said.

“I most certainly do. We wouldn’t actually duel, of course. But what a laugh it would be at everyone’s expense.”

Nick joined Simon in laughter. “I like this idea. We’ll need to explore its merit.” Since they’d be staying for a week, they had plenty of time to do so.

“Excellent.” Simon reached over and clasped his friend’s hand. “It’s good to have you here.”

“It’s good to be here, and thank you for cleaning up my mess.”

“Your mess ended up being my miracle.” Unable to hold himself back any longer, Simon kissed Diana briefly, his lips grazing hers. “And I shall thank you for all eternity.”

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