Cynny gazed out her bedchamber window, watching the lane in front of Grayson House for signs of a carriage. She was practically bursting with excitement, so much that she’d hardly managed a bite during breakfast. Cammie, along with Lady Tiffin and Lady Harding, were all coming for a visit this afternoon. To Cynny’s delight, Lady Tiffin and Lady Harding, who had both invited her to call them by their given names—Alice and Gertrude—during their first luncheon at Grayson House over a month ago, had welcomed both her and Cammie into society with open arms. Cynny was grateful the wives of her husband’s friends were kind and not as prone to gossip as most of the women in the ton, and she couldn’t wait for their arrival.

Footsteps sounded behind her, and Cynny turned as her papa entered her room. He wore a mischievous expression and his hands were behind his back, as if he were hiding something from her. Her interest piqued, she tried to peer around him to see what he was holding, but he kept turning and preventing her from glimpsing whatever it was he held in his hands. Clearly, he derived far too much enjoyment in tormenting her.

“Papa,” she said in a faux scolding tone, “we mustn’t keep secrets from one another. It’s against the rules. If you persist in your mischievous ways, I will insist you go to the library and sit on the naughty chair.” She put her hands on her hips, trying to look imposing.

He rose an eyebrow at her and suddenly appeared stern, but in a playful manner. Though she knew she wasn’t in any sort of trouble—she had been on her best behavior since the horrid incident with his pocket watch—a heated quiver danced across her bottom cheeks.

“You look beautiful today, Cynny,” he said, his expression relaxing. “You look as if you are glowing, in fact.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek, and as he did so, he placed a small beribboned package in her hands.

“What’s this, Papa?”

“It’s a present for you, my darling little girl. Go ahead. Open it.”

She giggled with delight and unfastened the ribbons, then pried open the delicate paper that covered a small wooden box. She glanced up at Papa, meeting his eyes with a grin, before flipping the lid open to reveal a golden watch with a thick blue ribbon attached to it—a watch intended for a lady. Her heart swelled and tears sprang to her eyes. After all they’d been through—after her fearing he might find out the truth of her past and that she’d indeed stolen his pocket watch—for him to gift her with her very own watch was a most profound declaration of love and forgiveness.

“Oh, Papa. It’s so beautiful.” She clasped it and gently turned it over in her hands, noticing an engraving on the back, which she began to read aloud in a choked whisper. “H. I will love you for all time. P.”

“P is for Papa,” he said. He took the watch from her and fastened the clip attached to the ribbon to her dress. “Now you have your very own watch and hopefully you won’t be tempted to join any street gangs or put your hands into anyone’s pockets ever again,” he said with a soft laugh that warmed her heart further.

“Thank you, Papa. I love it. And I love you.” She rose on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips. Then her tears began to fall more rapidly, she was so overcome with emotion by his gesture that she was practically sobbing with joy.

He withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at her tears, just as the familiar sounds of a carriage arriving drifted in the open window.

She smiled at her papa and tried to stop crying, but it was no use. She was deeply touched by his gesture and so very, very happy, that she gave into a fresh wave of sobs while Papa held her and continued pressing the handkerchief to her cheeks and her nose.

“Had I known I would make you cry, Cynny, I would have given you the gift after your friends departed. I confess once the jeweler had it finished, I could not wait to give it to you. I love you, little girl, and I want you to know that I have forgiven you a thousand times over for…what happened.”

What happened. The day she’d thought their marriage was over. The day she’d thought Papa might return her to Talcott House in shame. But it hadn’t been the end of their marriage, and he hadn’t gotten rid of her. Not even close. He’d been displeased with her—quite furious, in fact—but he’d punished her and then he’d forgiven her. His disappointment had wounded her the most, but it had been short-lived, and she was thankful that dark time in their marriage had come to pass and they’d emerged stronger than ever.

“Thank you, Papa. Not just for the watch, but for everything. Thank you for being my papa.” She sighed against his chest, her tears finally starting to ebb.

“I’ll be your papa and love you for all time.” He stroked her hair and hugged her tighter.

More sounds came from the drive—a second carriage arriving, followed by a third. Excited chatter soon drifted up through the window.

“Oh dear, my friends are all here,” Cynny said with a brief laugh as she sniffled and attempted to make herself look presentable. “I always look a mess when I cry. My eyes will be red for at least an hour. What shall I tell my friends?”

Papa waggled his eyebrows at her and leaned forward with a conspiratorial look. “Tell them you were a naughty little girl this morning. Tell them your papa caught you touching your kitty without permission and that you were soundly spanked for it.” He reached around her, giving her bottom a firm squeeze. “Then you can squirm around on the couch whilst sipping your tea and eating your sweetcakes, grimacing every couple of minutes because your behind is exceedingly sore from the long disciplinary session spent over your husband’s knee.”

She studied him for a moment, tapping her chin. “No Papa, that story will never do.”

“And why not?”

“Because whenever I touch myself, I’m smart enough not to get caught.”

“Naughty little girl,” he growled against her ear. “We will finish this discussion later.”

She peered at him from under her lashes, giving him a coy grin. “I look forward to it, Papa. We always have the best discussions.”