Epilogue
Six months later…
The slanting rays of the sun bathed Evie and Emily in a soft, warm glow as they ran toward a group of children and adults reposing on several blankets under the shade of a large oak tree. Their laughter flittered on the air, drawing the attention of several passersby, some smiling at their obvious joy, others frowning at the boisterous display. Richard strolled along the lanes of Hyde Park at a casual pace, watching his ladies with discreet protectiveness.
Since their marriage, several members of polite society had not been kind or accepting, and the cartoons illustrated in the scandal sheets in the first weeks had been terrible. Evie had been upset at their cruelty but had stood firm even when it became evident her popularity amongst the swains and ladies of the ton had dwindled. There had been one particular cartoon that had made her cry, and Richard had visited the publisher in the dark of night at the man’s townhouse and had outlined the man’s secrets and the manner in which Richard would make him regret his existence. Since then, the cartoons had been more favorable, until he and his marchioness dwindled from the pages. A few other lords had also learned it was prudent to rein in the malice of their wives and daughters at balls and musicales or suffer his displeasure. It hadn’t taken long for society to realize that while he was indifferent to the umbrage heaped upon his honor and reputation, he wouldn’t tolerate harm to his marchioness.
As if she felt his regard, Evie glanced in his direction, her face suffused with an intense love that always had his mouth drying. He was still somewhat stunned by the realization that Evie was his, and the completeness he felt each morning staring at her face. She bent slightly and spoke to Emily who nodded with enthusiasm before darting to the other children who fed the ducks swimming in the Serpentine lake. They were picnicking with their friends, the Duke and Duchess of Wolverton, who were out with their two girls and much too energetic twin boys, and the Earl and Countess of Blade and their lovely daughter who was only a few months old. And then there was his and Evie’s brood of eight.
She strolled to meet him, and his gaze unerringly went to the flat of her stomach. A surge of love and possessiveness scythed through his heart. It was only this morning she had informed him she was with child, and the children in a few months would be welcoming a brother or sister.
Evie reached his side and, without a care for their audience, brushed her lips against his in a fleeting kiss. Before she could retreat, he deepened their embrace, indulging in a quick sample of her unique flavor. Amusement rushed through him at the outraged gasps from a few ladies. Releasing Evie, she chuckled.
“Forever acting the notorious scoundrel, I see.”
“I simply follow where you lead, wife.”
Her mouth curved in a sublime smile while her bright green eyes grew sultry with a promise of how the rest of their day would unfold. She looped their hands together and tugged him toward their waiting party. He’d come to trust that the world could fall apart, and they’d still be one.
They paused as a coach came into view, heading toward their direction bearing the Salop’s ducal crest. The conveyance pulled to a halt. A footman rushed to open the door and lowered the steps. The Duke of Salop descended, an imposing man, his bearing regal with austere but handsome features.
“Your father,” she murmured, slanting Richard a surprised glance. “Are you curious?”
“Indifferent,” Richard said flatly, his eyes skimming beyond his father to his children in the distance.
Evie’s fingers sank into his arms, grounding him when he would have shifted in the opposite direction.
“It must have taken tremendous courage for him to approach you in public…given your reputation of being ruthless with those who’ve wronged you, my love.”
“I am still unmoved.”
“He is family,” she countered softly.
A peculiar jolt went through his heart before he iced over his emotions. The duke approached, and lords and ladies unashamedly lingered, their gazes rapt upon them.
“Westfall,” his father greeted. His cold golden eyes sliced to Evie who met his regard with open and unflinching curiosity.
“Lady Westfall,” the duke greeted, the warmth in his eyes too appreciative of her beauty.
She dipped into a quick but elegant curtsy. “Your Grace, how delightful to see you again,” she said warmly, as if the last time she had spoken to the man was last week and not more than two years.
His gaze slid to Richard. “A word in private.”
“No.”
Evie winced.
The duke studied Richard for several seconds in tense silence before he withdrew a letter from his coat pocket. He handed it to Richard.
“Once again scandal hovers over my family like a sharpened sword,” the duke murmured. “This was intercepted being delivered to your townhouse. Given the situation, I, of course, read it. It was not my intention to involve you, but my search has unearthed no clues.”
A search of what?
He snatched the letter and flipped it open.
Dearest Richard,
By the time you’ve received this letter, I will be long gone. I’ve entrusted my maid Sarah to see it reaches you only after I’ve safely crossed the border into the Highlands. I cannot tell you to where I’ve traveled, only know I did it to spare you and Mother my shame, and to spare myself Father’s disappointment and wrath. I fear I am with child and the scandal of it is too much for me to remain in London. I know Mamma would insist I flee to the country and give birth to my child in secret, only to give her up, and I could not bear the thought of that. There is a man…an earl, who is in need of a wife, who has gone about it in the most unorthodox fashion of advertising for her. It seems his reputation may even be more disreputable than yours, but I’ve informed him of my sorry plight, and he is willing to take me as his wife. I find such an action to be honorable. Perhaps two wounded souls may find succor together, so I’ve taken steps to decide my own future. When I’ve settled, I will write to you with news.
Faithfully,
Phoebe.
For precious moments, the only sound he heard was the pounding of his heart. He lifted his gaze and the fear and pain in his father’s eyes couldn’t be disguised.
“When did this happen?”
“It has been ten days.”
“My sister has been missing for ten days, and I am only now informed?”
Evie’s soft gasp echoed his distress.
“Your mother has been abed with worry. I believe your presence and your reassurance that you will bring Phoebe home will relieve her mind.” The duke turned and observed the small party in the distance. “I believe she would also like to meet her granddaughter.”
Then the duke whirled around and entered the equipage, which quickly pulled away.
“I will blister her backside when I find her,” Richard said gruffly, suppressing the cold fear knotting in his gut, his thoughts plotting ahead on the steps he would need to take to protect her against society, this earl who lured her to the Highlands, and the expectations of their parents.
“But you will find her,” Evie reassured him. “I know you will, and when you do, we will be there for her in every way that matters.” She squeezed his arms gently, offering her unwavering love and comfort.
“I will,” he promised. The scoundrel who stole her virtue and left her alone in her current circumstances would die. He would not compromise on that score. “Wait here,” he said to Evie, and then moved quickly to where their carriage was parked.
The footman stood to attention at his approach, promptly forgetting the giggling maid he’d been conversing with.
“My lord?”
“Take a message to the Sparrow. Take two other men with you as you’ll be going to the seedier side of town. At this time, he’ll be found at Jenny’s Inn. I have need of his service, and I expect a meeting within the next couple of hours.”
“Yes, my lord.” The footman rushed away to do his bidding.
Richard turned back to Evie, some of the cold tension dissipating as a plan of action formed. The Sparrow was a spy in the underworld, and he worked for Richard, seeking and ferreting any information he needed. It hardly mattered the man himself was a viscount; the Sparrow, too, stood on the fringes of polite society and made himself invaluable by commanding a band of children who were his network in the underworld. The man’s saving grace and the reason Richard had not slit his throat when he uncovered him was that the Sparrow cared for all his children and treated them well.
Evie slipped her fingers through his when he reached her side. “Is all well?”
“It will be,” he vowed.
Trust and compassion glowed in her eyes. “I know.”
The children waved in the distance, and with a light laugh, Evie tugged him toward the merriment. Halfway across the lawn, Emily ran over, tumbling into them indecorously. With a chuckle, Richard swung her into his arms, and she twisted and climbed up, settling along his shoulders.
“I’m happy, Papa,” Emily said with a gusty sigh.
He grabbed one of her hands resting atop his head and kissed her knuckles, which bore questionable stains. “I’m happy, too.”
She giggled infectiously, and Evie laughed. Nothing was perfect; nothing was without flaw. But this moment…it would be etched in Richard’s heart and memory for as long as he lived.
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