“Love you? Some day?” She knew she was acting like a parrot, but she couldn’t help it. The nonsense he was spouting boggled her brain.
“Is it such a ludicrous idea? I am a duke after all.” His hopeful expression collapsed. It pained her to see.
“Oh, Jonathan,” she sighed. “I don’t care that you’re a duke. I never have.”
“But—”
She silenced him with a finger to his lips. “Hush, darling. And listen to me.”
He stilled. A smile blossomed on his oh-so-handsome face. “Did you just call me darling?”
“Hush. Darling, I have loved you for years. Since the day you rescued me from that tree. Do you remember?”
“Of course I remember. You were all scraggles and limbs.”
She frowned at him. “No need to be rude. The point is, I do love you. I always have. I just never thought you would be drawn to someone like me.”
“Someone like you?” He reared back and, to her horror, gave her the old up and down. What did he see, when he looked at her like that? Surely not a face that wasn’t as perfect as Tessa’s. A body that was plumper. Hair that wasn’t that lovely shade of blonde.
“Tessa was beautiful.”
He nodded. “She was. And you are beautiful too.”
It was difficult to hold back her snort. “Not as beautiful as she.”
He gave a small laugh. “I wish you could see yourself as I see you.”
“And how is that?” Was it foolish to ask?
“Perfect. A perfect woman. A perfect wife. A perfect duchess… You’re the one I want, Meg, and, if you are willing, you are the one I shall have.”
And then, perhaps to end the argument, such as it was, he kissed her soundly. And ah, it was glorious. He kissed her and kissed her—and, to be honest, she kissed him—for quite some time. They would probably have continued on forever, except a terrible thought occurred, and Meg had to pull away.
Jonathan studied her expression and his lips took a downturn. “What is it?”
“Oh, Jonathan, dear. What about your mother? She had such hopes that you would land a society bride.”
“You are a society bride,” he growled.
“You know what I mean.”
“My mother has no say in this.”
“But—”
“To hell with my mother!”
“Well really.” An affronted snort came from the door.
They both turned to see the dowager standing there with Susana, Lizzie, and Vicca.
Susana sniffed. “This is becoming a habit,” she said, although she said it with something of a smile.
“What are they doing?” Vicca asked, poking her head around her grandmother.
“I do believe your father is compromising my companion,” the dowager clipped.
Oh dear. Meg leaped to her feet. “It’s not what it seems—”
“Yes,” Jonathan said, standing as well and wrapping his arm around Meg’s waist. “It’s exactly what it looks like. Meg has just accepted my proposal.”
Susana crossed her arms. “Well, that took the two of you long enough.”
“Indeed,” his mother said. And, to Meg’s delight, the dowager came to her with open arms and gave her a lovely hug.
“What does that mean?” Lizzie said with a skeptical look at the lot of them.
Jonathan went down on one knee and pulled his daughters close, so he could look them in the eye. “Meg is to be my wife and, if you’re willing, your mother.”
They both turned to Meg then, and though she was unaccountably nervous, she smiled. “Would you like that?”
The twins exchanged a look and then shrugged. “Of course we like it,” Vicca said.
Lizzie nodded. “We told you days ago you should marry Meg.”
“Weren’t you paying attention?”
Jonathan sighed. “Apparently I wasn’t. I needed to work it out for myself.”
“Well, I am delighted,” the dowager said. “We’ll make an announcement at the ball this evening.”
Susana chuckled. “And ruin Christmas for Cicely Peck.”
The dowager smirked. “An added bonus, but it will do.” She sighed heartily and turned to survey the new family to be. Man, wife, and daughters. Hopefully sons soon enough, judging from the look in Jonathan’s eye. “It makes me supremely happy when my plans play out,” she murmured.
Jonathan smiled. “It was a brilliant plan, throwing a party to find a husband for Meg.”
“Oh?” his mother said cheekily. “Was that my plan?”
“Wasn’t it?”
She shrugged.
His eyes narrowed. “You told me the point of this party was to find a husband for Meg.”
Meg blinked. “You told me the point of this party was to find a bride for Jonathan.”
“Did I?” Was it possible for a woman to flutter her lashes that fervidly and not create a breeze?
“So what was your plan?” Meg had to ask.
But the dowager merely looked at them and smiled. “Let’s just say my plan played out, shall we? And I am so very happy for both of you. Now, let’s get going. We have a betrothal ball to attend.” And with that, she shooed Susana, Lizzie, and Vicca from the room, the last two doing a little jig.
“Your mother is a handful,” Meg said, as Jonathan turned her back into his arms.
“Yes,” he said. “But this time, I couldn’t be more pleased.”
“You know, neither could I.”
And it was true.
“Now, shall we go prepare for our ball?”
She smiled at him. Her heart in her eyes. “Yes. Let’s.”
“But, Meg.” He stopped her and fixed her with a fierce gaze. “You’re not dancing with anyone but me.”
EPILOGUE
SPRING IN SUTTON WAS LOVELY. Meg had known it would be so.
She woke up early on the four-month anniversary of her wedding to find her husband gone and four roses on his pillow. Her heart swelled with love and she sighed. It had been a wonderful four months.
After the house party, the family had decamped to London while the banns were read and enjoyed winter in the city, including the most amazing Frost Fair held right on the frozen-over River Thames. The girls had loved the menageries, skating on the ice, the horse drawn boat, and, of course, the gingerbread. They’d also visited the museums and shops, and she and Jonathan had gone to the opera.
It had, indeed been tedious, except during the arias, but Jonathan’s box had been recessed, so there might have been kissing.
And oh, with the season still in swing, there had been parties. Susana and Christian had led her into the fray, introducing her to all their friends.
Everyone, it seemed, had been delighted to welcome the new Duchess of Devon into the fold. With the possible exception of Cicely Peck, which was no great loss.
They’d even attended another wedding. Of all people, Hisdick and Louisa Mountbatten.
Once the thaw came, they’d discussed returning to Sutton, but hadn’t made any real plans until Meg had started feeling ill in the mornings.
Meg hadn’t realized what that meant, but the dowager had.
She’d packed them all up immediately and trundled them to Sutton, claiming Devon was too far to travel for a woman in her condition.
They’d been here ever since, just the family, enjoying the advent of spring and watching Meg’s belly grow.
The dowager had been pleased with her progress, exclaiming more than once that she was sure it was twins. And she would know, having carried a pair herself. How she knew these were boys, Meg had no clue, but she was happy to play along.
Though in truth, she didn’t care it if was a boy or a girl or one of each.
Just not two of each, please.
Lizzie and Vicca were delighted, of course, to know a sibling, or two, were on order. If the babies were twins, they announced, there would be one for each of them, whereas, if there was only one baby, they’d have to share and they didn’t care to share. Jonathan had told them there would always be more, so there was no need to squabble.