The Duke I'm Going to Marry(111)

Ian took Dillie’s hand, but she held him back a moment. She looked happily bemused. “Thank you,” she said again.

“For being a stubborn ass? For being an arrogant, idiot duke?”

She nestled against his chest. “For being you. For wanting me as much as I want you. I love you so much.”

He kissed her again. “There’s only one girl I could ever marry. Only one girl I could ever love. The girl I kissed beside the lilac tree. The girl who almost shot me with an elephant gun. You, Dillie. I love you. You’re my forever girl.”





EPILOGUE


Lake District, England

Christmas Eve 1819

DILLIE WAS SITTING in the nursery at Coniston Hall, her parents’ large country home, fussing over Felicity. She had dressed Felicity in a gown of dark green velvet with a matching ribbon in her hair, but Felicity was having none of it, tugging at her little curls and wailing. “Oh, well,” Dillie said finally. “I don’t suppose anyone will notice the lack of a ribbon.”

The house was filled to the rafters with Farthingales gathered for the traditional Christmas Eve supper. Rose, Laurel, Daisy, and Lily were downstairs with their husbands and the other adults, while their children were chasing each other up and down the hall outside the nursery. All save Ivy, of course, who was in the arms of her nanny, Miss Grenville, waiting to be brought downstairs. Ivy looked like a little princess in a gown of red velvet trimmed with white lace at the collar and sleeve cuffs.

Miss Poole, who had been helping Dillie with Felicity, rose from the chair beside her. “Time to get the children down to supper. I’ll come back up as soon as the little hoydens are safely delivered to their parents.”

Dillie laughed as Felicity began to bounce on her lap, no doubt eager to join the others. “You needn’t bother. I’ll be down in a moment with Her Highness.”

All had been invited to Coniston for a week of Christmas celebrations, and Dillie was looking forward to a long, noisy evening with the sisters, parents, and assorted relatives. Ian hadn’t arrived yet, but she knew he would be along soon.

She untied Felicity’s ribbon, which really was no loss since the child had very little hair and what existed was adorably unkempt. Felicity abruptly stopped complaining.

With the military efficiency of a Roman general, Miss Poole quieted down the horde of little Farthingales, mustered them in a single column, and then marched them downstairs.

Now alone in the nursery with Felicity, Daisy took several deep breaths to steady herself. She was feeling a little dizzy, but didn’t wish anyone to know. Not yet, anyway. Not until she spoke to Ian. Where was he?

It wasn’t long before she heard his carriage draw up to the front of the house, and then a moment later she heard his footsteps on the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. He must have encountered Miss Poole in the entry hall and she must have said something to make him rush to her side.

Suddenly, he filled the nursery doorway. “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart.” He strode to her side and kissed her on the lips, an achingly gentle kiss. “I was delayed at Swineshead. Mr. Dumbley had a mountain of papers delivered for me to sign. Took forever to make my way through the stack.” He gave her another gentle kiss, then cast a boyishly tender smile that melted her heart. “Miss Poole said you looked a little pale. How are you feeling?”

Before she could answer, Felicity let out a squawk to gain his attention.

“I’m getting to you,” he said with a laugh. “Do you think I’d ever forget you, Your Highness?” He bent to nuzzle Felicity, but her chubby little fingers went straight for his nose and tugged on it. He let out a pretend yelp that Felicity thought was hilarious. She let out a hearty laugh, all giggles and squeals.

Ian took Felicity into his arms. He looked quite at ease as he settled the playful child against his chest and lightly tickled her belly, but his gaze was trained on Dillie. “Sweetheart?”

Dillie felt a tug to her heart. Ian looked so comfortable and content holding Felicity. He was meant to be a father and would make a wonderful one at that. Crumpets, she loved him! She rose to stand beside him, but must have moved too fast. Her head began to spin and she sank back into her chair.

“Dillie!” He set Felicity in her crib and quickly returned to her side, taking her into his arms. “You’re clutching your stomach. Does it ache? Bugger, do you have a fever? Have you eaten anything today?”

“No fever. I’m fine. I’ve been eating enough to feed an army,” she said. “Haven’t you noticed? I’ve put on a bit of weight.”

“Well, your breasts look bigger. I’m not complaining. No, indeed.” He tipped her head to his and kissed her gently on the lips. “We can forget this evening’s celebration. I’ll carry you straight to bed. I’ll make our excuses to the family.”