Epilogue
“I have an apology to make,” said Jason as he removed his cravat.
“Oh?” Sophia lay on the bed in a sheer night gown feeling a little shy, which was really rather silly since the man had kissed, licked and touched every part of her body. But this was her wedding night and somehow, she suddenly felt nervous.
“Well, in marrying me, I have caused you to be somewhat demoted in rank from a viscountess to a mere daughter-in-law of an earl. Your title of ‘Lady’ is courtesy only.”
“As the daughter of a viscount, I grew up with a mere courtesy title anyway, so I would not concern yourself about it, my lord. Besides, one day, I hope to be a countess.”
“Planning to marry an earl?” he teased.
“Something like that. I have my eye on a very handsome gentleman who is heir to an earldom.”
He lay on the bed beside her, naked and ready. “Anyone I know?”
“Probably not. He comes ∞∞∞teasing and laughing. He had turned her head and was inspecting the healing wound on her neck. “I wish you had covered this today.”
“I left it for everyone to see for a reason. Just in case the story had not got around about how Benson wished to kill me a few nights ago, I thought I would give the ton something to gossip about. Plus, it is vindication for when they did not believe us at the Duke and Duchess of Kirkbourne’s soiree.”
“You wanted them to feel guilty?”
“A little. Is that very bad?”
Jason grinned. “Well, if it is, I am bad too. Though I believe that the information that the Bow Street Runners gave us, about the treasures from all those Mayfair robberies that they found in Benson’s bachelor apartment, will have spread like fire around the Beau monde. Those robberies were brutal. Many servants and even a few of the house owners were badly hurt by the culprit. And it does sound like Benson or an accomplice carried them out.”
“I did not particularly like him, but I did not imagine him to be quite such a vile person as he turned out to be.”
“I know. Let us hope we never meet anyone so dastardly again.”
“Did you receive a letter from Lord Whitsnow?”
“I did. He sent it here instead of my bachelor rooms. It seems that news has even reached Cumberland of our nuptials. He congratulated us. He is getting the roof fixed with the help of some locals. The work is nearly complete. He said he was much looking forward to getting his house back to himself.”
“He needs a woman’s touch.”
“I’m sure plenty of women touch Robert. He’s a handsome enough devil.”
“I do not mean he needs a lover. I mean he needs a wife.”
“Do not try to match-make for the poor fellow if he comes to Town, Sophia. He would hate that. And in Cumberland there are slim pickings among the ladies. Why, when I was there, there was only one eligible lady on the couple of occasions we went to church and she was definitely not Robert’s type.”
“Was she plain?”
“No, she was pretty. Though not as pretty as you. But she was… well she was surrounded by children.”
“A widow?”
“No. She and her mother took in orphans and looked after them. They did not even make the orphans work until they were at least twelve years old. They taught them in a school room and got the men to apprentice the boys in places like the stables. It was all rather…”
“Kind?”
“Oh you know what I mean.”
“No Jason. If Oscar had not been the child of a viscount and Benson had killed me, then he would have relied on someone like this woman you seem to so disdain. Robert could do worse.”
“I doubt he would see it that way.”
“Well shame on Robert.”
“Hmm, you have convinced me, now lie back, those breasts are just calling out for my lips.”
Sophia smiled as Jason climbed on top of her. It was time to start creating another baby and filling the nursery. But this time, she was going to enjoy every second of it.
THE END
If you enjoyed Lord Rose-Reid and the Lost Lady, why not read the rest of the Contrary Fairy Tales.
Chapter one of Sleeping Lord Beattie below
Prologue
Gideon Beattie, or Viscount Beattie as he was known, trudged through the mud, carrying three large planks of wood. They were needed to mend one of his stables. The place was falling apart. Everything was falling apart. Gideon hadn’t realised just how bad things had got in the past few years. His father had allowed the estate to fall into rack and ruin. Many staff had left due to the fact his father hadn’t paid them. Gideon couldn’t blame them. If only his father had told him. He could have helped.
Gideon had made a modest fortune in the years during and after university. With the money his father had given him monthly, he’d lived the life of a young buck but had also saved and invested wisely. He had a bit of a talent for sniffing out a good investment and some of his investments, especially in the shipping trade, had paid off handsomely. He also knew when to quit when he ventured into a gaming hell. If you are losing quit. If you win big, quit.
It seemed this had not been something he’d inherited from his father’s side of the family. The man had drunk, gambled away the family fortune and after one final bad investment, Gideon’s father took his own life. Gideon’s sister had found him, face down, on his desk, a bottle of laudanum spilt over the surface. He’d taken enough of the opiate to kill a horse; the doctor had said.
No one in the house had said anything and against church rules, Gideon’s father had been laid to rest in the family graveyard, next to the church on the estate. The fact they had lied to the vicar still pricked at Gideon’s conscience, but better that than upset Sophia any further.
He walked into the stable and dropped the planks of wood. He’d much rather have done this with the animals out in the fields but the weather this year had been awful. Cold, wet and damp. Everyone was reporting failed crops and the newspapers said that people in Wales were rioting as a result of food shortages. Some people were predicting the beginning of the prophecies from the Revelation of Saint John the Divine in the Holy Bible. He believed it was just a year of bad weather and suspected it had nothing to do with God or apocalyptic prophecies.
Fixing the stable was going to upset the animals if he was hammering away at the wood in their vicinity, but there was nothing else for it. The weather was too awful to put them outside and he couldn’t leave the stables in such disrepair any longer.
He picked up the hammer, a large nail and placed the wood over the large gap in the horse’s stall. Honestly, it was a miracle the beast hadn’t escaped yet.
As he started to hammer, Caesar, his black gelding started to neigh.
“Hush, Caesar. Tis fine,” Gideon crooned, hoping the animal would recognise his voice and be calmed. He took a second nail. Best to hammer each one in a little and get the plank on straight at first. He might not be used to doing manual labour, but as a boy, he’d watched the men around the estate and sometimes asked to help them. They had occasionally obliged when no one was looking. Gideon suspected it was more to get peace than because they liked the young baron.
As he hammered in the second nail, Caesar stamped his foot and snorted.
“Easy boy. It’s me. I’m just sorting your stall to stop the wind coming in. Don’t you want that? Must be cold in here at night.”
Everything that happened next seemed to happen so quickly that Gideon could not have prevented it, had he tried. Caesar whinnied and reared up, his hooves catching the back of Gideon’s head as he came back down. Gideon fell against the upright stake of the stall, his hand catching on a nail. He pulled it free and was aware of the upright post giving way and a creaking sound. Dirt and dust fell around him then pain like he had never experienced cracked his head. As the light faded he heard himself as if from a distance.
“’S fine, Caesar. Shh boy!”