“But what if we don’t fail?” he said. “What if we work together, what if we promise to be honest, what if we only act with each other’s best interest at heart from today until the world stops turning? Because I can promise you that, Abigail.”
She leaned forward until her forehead rested against his chest. She could feel his heart thudding wildly, and she gripped his biceps to steady herself.
She considered this man she leaned on. The man who challenged her, who expected marvelous things from her, the man who encouraged her dreams. The man who could make her weak but never held it against her. The man who was always honest. Who understood the value of dedication and responsibility.
If she said no to him, if she pushed him away again and again, she had no doubt that at some point she could break him. She could make him stop loving her with enough time.
But what a loss that would be. What a tragedy to be so fearful of a past with another man, an entirely separate life, that she would throw away the future.
“I don’t want to throw away the future,” she whispered.
He cupped her chin and tilted her face up so that she looked at him. “Then make it with me.”
She smiled, because there was nothing else to do but smile when she was staring into the face of the man she loved. The man who somehow loved her.
“Yes.”
“Yes?” he repeated, eyes going wide.
“Yes,” she said again, this time louder and stronger. “Yes, Nathan. I do love you, and I will fight for you and let you fight for me.”
He tugged her closer, his arms coming around her, warm and comforting. When he claimed her mouth, she opened to him, this time fully and with no fear to stop her from truly feeling their connection.
And she knew with perfect certainty in that moment that nothing could ever tear them apart. Because she wouldn’t let it.
Epilogue
Six Months Later
The parlor off the foyer in Abigail and Nathan’s home in London was a cacophony of sound and laughter, but of course it would be. After a few months with everyone in their separate country homes, the three former Mrs. Montgomerys and their husbands had come together for a joyful reunion.
And there was so much to celebrate. Abigail rested a hand on Celeste’s pregnant belly and laughed as her baby kicked in response. Owen wrapped an arm around his wife and beamed, the couple’s pure joy and excitement about their impending arrival written all over their faces.
Rhys shifted his nephew to his hip and took Pippa’s hand as they talked together at the fire. Much had changed for the couple, and all of it for the better. The steadfast loyalty of Nathan, and the welcome of the powerful dukes of the 1797 Club, had helped him find his way back into Society. Abigail was so proud of Nathan’s unwavering affection for his friend.
Ophelia had also joined their happy little group. She’d spent some time traveling to see relatives and friends over the winter. Abigail thought she was trying to give her time with Nathan, and she appreciated it. At the isolated estate in Cornwall, their love had only blossomed further. She had come to fully trust him, because he proved again and again that he earned it. She had never been happier, she had never been more loved.
He caught her hand and drew her away from their friends for a moment. “I’d forgotten what it was like not to have you all to myself,” he murmured close to her ear. “I think I’ll spirit you away back to the estate and just keep you there.”
She laughed. “I wouldn’t argue. However, I have missed everyone.” She slipped an arm around his waist. “Just think…a year and a half ago, Celeste, Pippa and I had only just found out about Erasmus’s bigamy. We weren’t friends yet, we were all lost and terrified about the future. And now we’re close as sisters and all of us have found love and security.”
He nodded. “I would not have wished such heartbreak on any of you, but it did bring you together. It brought all of you to the ones you were meant to love. It saved all of the men who are lucky enough to be loved by you.”
She faced him. “Did I save you?” she asked.
She was teasing, but he didn’t smile in return. He nodded, and it was a solemn thing. “You saved me, you save me and I am forever in your debt.”
“Then I suppose we have no choice but to live happily ever after.”
He bent to kiss her gently. “Happily. Ever. After.”
The Regency Royals Series
This summer start a new adventure with Jess Michaels when her new series, Regency Royals launches! When the Royal Family of Athawick comes to London to join in the pleasures of the Season, they spark excitement, danger and maybe…just maybe…love. Here’s the first look at To Protect a Princess, Book 1 of the series, out July 21.
Enjoy an Excerpt of
To Protect A Princess
The Season of 1817 would become known for a great many things in the end, but at the beginning, all of Society was buzzing about one thing: the visit from the King and his family. But they weren’t referring to their own king, gouty and mad in his tower. Or their future king, who flitted from brothel to brothel with his demands for champagne with breakfast. No, the buzz was about an entirely different monarch, the King of Athawick.
Such a tiny island for such a big stir, and yet Princess Ilaria, youngest sibling and only sister of the king, knew there would be stir. There was always stir when it came to her family. Their island’s situation in the trade routes of the North Sea had always made them important…and precarious if she could believe her brother as he paced his study, that newly placed crown so heavy on his head and shoulders.
She leaned against the railing of the ship and closed her eyes as the salt air caressed her face. Every moment took them closer to England. Closer to a few months of madness. Her brother, of course, would not remain for that entire time, but their mother was insistent that Ilaria and her second oldest brother, Remington, take a Season in London. And their mother was not one to be denied.
“Your highness?”
Ilaria opened her eyes and squinted against the bright reflection of sunlight on the water before she turned. Her brother’s steward, Stephen Blairford, was standing there, his lips pressed in a tight, irritated line, just as they always were. She had never liked the man, not when he served their father, not when he served Grantham.
“What is it?” she asked.
“The King and the Queen desire your presence in the family drawing room,” he said. “Immediately.”
The way he added the last made it sound like an order. And she supposed it was, though it chafed. Here she was supposed to take precedence, but courtiers carried power. And this one knew it.
“Very well.” He motioned as if he would lead her and she jerked away from him. “I know where the drawing room is, Blairford. Thank you.”
She walked away and to his credit, Blairford didn’t follow. At least he knew his place that far. She made her way through the doors that led off the ship deck and through a narrow hallway to a large, ornately carved door. It was open at present and she could hear the voices of both her brothers and her mother drifting into the hallway.