“Marry me,” he said again, before she could go on.
“She is not acceptable,” the dowager said coldly.
He brought Grace’s hands to his lips. “I will marry no one else.”
“She is not of your rank!”
He turned and gave his grandmother an icy look. He felt rather ducal, actually. It was almost entertaining. “Do you wish for me to produce an heir? Ever?”
The dowager’s face pinched up like a fish.
“I shall take that as a yes,” he announced. “Which means that Grace shall have to marry me.” He shrugged. “It’s the only way, if I am to give Wyndham a legitimate heir.”
Grace started to blink, and her mouth-the corners were moving. She was fighting herself, telling herself she should say no. But she loved him. He knew that she did, and he would not allow her to throw that away.
“Grace-” He scowled, then laughed. “What the devil is your middle name, anyway?”
“Catriona,” she whispered.
“Grace Catriona Eversleigh,” he said, loud and sure, “I love you. I love you with every inch of my heart, and I swear right now, before all who are assembled…” He looked around, catching sight of the rectory housekeeper, who was standing open-mouthed in the doorway. “…even-devil it,” he muttered, “what is your name?”
“Mrs. Broadmouse,” she said, eyes wide.
Jack cleared his throat. He was beginning to feel like himself. For the first time in days, he felt like himself. Maybe he was stuck with this bloody title, but with Grace at his side, he could find a way to do some good with it.
“I swear to you,” he said, “before Mrs. Broadmouse-”
“Stop this!” the dowager yelled, grabbing hold of his other arm. “Get on your feet!”
Jack gazed up at Grace and smiled. “Was there ever a proposal so beleaguered?”
She smiled back, even as tears threatened to spill from her eyes.
“You are supposed to marry Amelia!” Lord Crowland growled.
And then there was Amelia…poking her head around her father’s shoulder. “I won’t have him,” she announced, rather matter-of-fact. She caught Jack’s eye and smiled.
The dowager gasped. “You would refuse my grandson?”
“This grandson,” Amelia clarified.
Jack tore his eyes off Grace for just long enough to grin approvingly at Amelia. She grinned back, motioning with her head toward Grace, telling him in no uncertain terms to get back to the matter at hand.
“Grace,” Jack said, rubbing her hands softly with his. “My knee is beginning to hurt.”
She started to laugh.
“Say yes, Grace,” Amelia said.
“Listen to Amelia,” Jack said.
“What the devil am I going to do with you?” Lord Crowland said. To Amelia, that was, not that she seemed to care.
“I love you, Grace,” Jack said.
She was grinning now. It seemed her whole body was grinning, as if she’d been enveloped in a happiness that would not let go. And then she said it. Right in front of everyone.
“I love you, too.”
He felt all the happiness in the world swirling into him, straight to his heart. “Grace Catriona Eversleigh,” he said again, “will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”
He stood. “I’m going to kiss her now,” he called out.
And he did. Right in front of the dowager, in front of Amelia and her father, even in front of Mrs. Broadmouse.
He kissed her. And then he kissed her some more. He was kissing her when the dowager departed in an angry huff, and he was kissing her when Lord Crowland dragged Amelia away, muttering something about delicate sensibilities.
He kissed her, and he kissed her, and he would have kept kissing her except that he realized that Mrs. Broadmouse was still standing in the doorway, staring at them with a rather benign expression.
Jack grinned at her. “A spot of privacy, if you don’t mind?”
She sighed and toddled away, but before she shut the door, they heard her say-
“I do like a good love story.”
Epilogue
My dearest Amelia-
Can it only have been three weeks since I last wrote? It feels as if I have gathered at least a year of news. The children continue to thrive. Arthur is so studious! Jack declares himself boggled, but his delight is evident. We visited the Happy Hare earlier this week to discuss plans for the village fair with Harry Gladdish, and Jack complained to no end about how difficult it has been to find a new tutor now that Arthur has exhausted the last.
Harry was not fooled. Jack was proud as puff.
We were delighted to-
“Mama!”
Grace looked up from her correspondence. Her third child (and only daughter) was standing in the doorway, looking much aggrieved.
“What is it, Mary?” she asked.
“John was-”
“Just strolling by,” John said, sliding along the polished floor until he came to a stop next to Mary.
“John!” Mary howled.
John looked at Grace with utter innocence. “I barely touched her.”
Grace fought the urge to close her eyes and groan. John was only ten, but already he possessed his father’s lethal charm.
“Mama,” Mary said. “I was walking to the conservatory when-”
“What Mary means to say,” John cut in, “is that I was walking to the orangery when she bumped into me and-”
“No!” Mary protested. “That is not what I meant to say.” She turned to her mother in obvious distress. “Mama!”