Epilogue
One year later—London
The Barrymore Ball was the talk of the Season, with its colourful interiors, its unusual cuisine and its musicians who were the very cream of Europe’s talent.
No expense had been spared and the place was full of people. Rich people. Interesting people. Bohemian people. People who looked as though they were neither interesting nor rich, but were there to enjoy the present. A melting pot of people in a setting that was unmatched.
‘I did not imagine that the English could rival even the greatest of the Parisian soirées.’ Celeste almost had to shout these words. ‘But I think this one just might.’
‘You went to such occasions with your father?’
She shook her head. ‘I peeked a few times into the Tuileries Palace whose high windows on both sides of the building can be scaled easily if you know how. I thought the women were like princesses.’
‘You look like one tonight, the most beautiful princess of them all.’
She used her fan in the way she had observed other women here wielding theirs and hoped she had covered her blush. Marriage suited her, she loved the endless days and nights in her husband’s company at Luxford and the intimacy of their connection.
‘Look at me like that for much longer and I will have to take you home again, my darling, to enjoy in privacy what your eyes are promising.’
She was on the point of agreeing when their names were called, the ringing tones of the major-domo loud above the crowd.
‘Viscount and Viscountess Luxford.’
In all the months they had been married, she had never got over the thrill of hearing their names linked, though when the chatter died down and hundreds of faces turned their way she had a moment of disquiet.
If anyone recognised her...
But even she could barely see the old her in the new one any more. She was happy and in love, a wife and a mother, a granddaughter and the chatelaine to a house more stately than any she could ever have imagined. The furtive, careful Mademoiselle Brigitte Guerin had been replaced by a far more certain Lady Luxford, for with Summer at her side she knew she was loved.
* * *
An hour later she saw Aurelian de la Tomber thread his way towards them with a smile on his face.
‘You are most assuredly the belle of the ball, Celeste,’ he said when he finally reached them. ‘And I can see the chagrin on all the mamas’ faces, Shay, as they realise you are off the market.’
Aurelian had come up to Luxford to be the best man at their wedding and Celeste had enjoyed his company as much as Shay had, though she had made a point to apologise to him for her accusations in Paris.
He’d waved such a confession off completely and moved into a house not even an hour down the road in Sussex to be nearer them, a beautiful old manor that he’d had remodelled.
The gown Celeste wore shimmered under the light of the chandeliers, enhancing the shot-blue silk with shards of silver. When she had put it on she had thought it was the most beautiful dress she had ever seen.
‘Will you dance with me, my love?’ Summer’s grip tightened as the first strains of the waltz were in evidence. Excusing themselves, they made their way through the throng of people to the dance floor where everything felt magical.
‘I told you that you would be unmatched and you are. Every man here is looking at you as though he would like to kiss you. Or more.’
‘I think you are addled, Summer. It’s you all the girls are ogling.’
When he smiled he brought her in against his body, so that she could feel the outline of him, hard and tight, the music flowing about them. As the dance progressed and his eyes bored into her own she knew he was asking her things that belonged in the bedchamber and not here in society, and there was an excitement that welled inside her at the forbidden.
‘Yes,’ she whispered and pushed against him. ‘Yes,’ she said again as the hardness grew.
She watched him swallow, but the gleam in his eyes was dangerous. ‘Take care, my sweet. Play with fire and you shall be burned.’
‘Do you promise?’
His amber eyes were predatory and she shivered in delight, glad when the music finished and he took her hand in his and led her from the room.
Once in the carriage he brought her up on to his lap and kissed her in the way that made her heart and soul sing.
‘You were the most beautiful woman in the room tonight, Celeste, and any doubt you held of belonging in the ton must surely be long gone. They love you. I have had a dozen invites to other balls across the next fortnight.’
‘But we won’t stay, will we? You promised we would go home tomorrow to Luxford.’
‘Absolutely. But at least we have the choice now of coming back.’ He looked out the window and frowned. ‘This ride home is interminable and the fire you started back there is burning me up.’
When she laughed he held her tightly against him, pleased to see the town house finally coming into view.
* * *
After the fire came the quiet and he played with her hair, twirling the curls in the moonlight around one finger.
‘It’s so much longer now. When I first met you I wondered about the true colour, for you wore so many other shades.’
She laughed. ‘The white wig? It was so horribly noticeable and it was expensive. I only wore it that once.’
A cry from the door had them turning, the small figure of Loring appearing in the moonlight, a blanket in his arms.
‘Come, sweetheart,’ he said and pulled back the covers, a soft warm bundle of boy climbing in. ‘We are here so there is no need to be afraid.’
Shay loved holding his son. He loved his smallness and the way he was changing, and as he had missed out on the first months of his life he did not plan to be absent for a moment more. That included the night-time, even though Celeste scolded him for allowing their son into bed.
He was a toddler now with all the inherent busyness and danger. Yesterday Shay had found him at the top of the wide staircase and his heart had leapt into his throat with fifty times the force it ever had in the heat of Europe’s battles. There were two maids caring for him and even that number never quite seemed to be able to contain him.
Lady Faulkner always regaled them with stories of Shay’s own daring childhood whenever Loring escaped or fell or had a tantrum, and Celeste loved to hear them.
Family.
It was growing by the day.
Celeste. Loring. Susan Joyce. Vivienne. Aurelian. Even Celeste’s reclusive uncle was becoming less shy and withdrawn. And now a new little child due in the summer. He hoped this one would be a daughter with blonde hair and eyes that changed with her emotions exactly as her mother’s did.
‘I was often lonely and now I think I might never be so again.’ He said this with a smile, but Celeste answered seriously.
‘In Paris I thought I might die from isolation. If I had, it would have been the very worst death possible.’
‘Well, my love, there is no danger of that ever happening with our growing brood.’
She stretched and gave a sigh. ‘I want five children, Summer. Or six. But if all our offspring are invited to share our bed, then how are we to make more?’ She left it open as a question.
He leaned down to kiss her and their son did, too, and he smiled as she opened her arms and placed them warmly about them both, gathering them in.
* * * * *
If you enjoyed this story you won’t want to miss these other great Regency reads by Sophia James:
RUINED BY THE RECKLESS VISCOUNT
A SECRET CONSEQUENCE FOR THE VISCOUNT
And if you enjoy these books check out Sophia’s
THE PENNILESS LORDS quartet,
starting with
MARRIAGE MADE IN MONEY
Keep reading for an excerpt from LADY CECILY AND THE MYSTERIOUS MR. GRAY by Janice Preston.
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