She stared into his eyes, hoping to convey the gravity of her meaning. “You will divorce me if you ever feel the need for a child.”
His smile fell. “Never. It will never happen.”
“But it might, Max. You have to promise that you won’t let me stand in your way.”
Taking her face gently between his hands, he said, “Don’t you understand that you will always be in my way? Wherever I go, you will always be there. Whatever I do, you will always be there. You are a part of me, Helena, for good and for bad. And I am yours. I will never abandon you, and I will protect you always.” She could get lost in the depths of his eyes. “For this to work, you have to feel that way, too. You have to be willing to fight for us. To fight for yourself.”
All at once everything inside her cracked open. The walls and the fortress of cool civility came crumbling down, along with her every reservation. He was hers. He would be hers until her dying breath. She nodded through the sudden blur of tears. “I love you, Max. I don’t think I was ready to acknowledge how madly I’ve fallen for you, but I am now. I want to be your wife. I don’t want to live another day without you.”
“Then there will be no more talk of divorce.” It wasn’t a question, but he raised a brow as he looked down at her.
Shaking her head, she said, “No, there will be no discussion of divorce.”
He growled in triumph and swung her up into his arms and over his shoulder. She let out a shock of laughter. “Where are you taking me?” Though it was fairly obvious they were going upstairs because he was already on the second step by the time she found her voice.
“To my bed,” he said, taking the stairs two at a time.
“But I have to go back to the hotel. My maid is waiting. Everyone will know if I don’t return.”
“Let them know.” He smacked her bottom, and she let out a yelp at the same time a tremor of anticipation moved through her. “I’m keeping you captive here until I make you my wife.”
Epilogue
Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made.
Robert Browning
TWO YEARS LATER
You look as handsome as always,” Helena said, rising on her toes and sliding her hands into Max’s hair to pull him down for a kiss. Brushing her lips against his, she marveled at the way her stomach still tumbled pleasantly whenever she kissed him. “Don’t be nervous.”
He grinned down at her and brushed his thumb over her cheek. “I’m not nervous. Maybe slightly anxious, but not nervous.” He glanced past her into the looking glass of their guest suite at Charrington Manor, Evan’s ancestral estate, and adjusted his tie.
They had married a week after her arrival in New York two years ago and had never spent a night apart since. The wedding had been a small gathering of Max’s friends and the Crenshaw extended family. Obviously, August, Violet, and their parents had been unable to attend, but all had sent their well-wishes. This was their first trip back to England, when the family would gather in a couple of hours for the christening of William Alexander David Sterling, August and Evan’s firstborn and heir to the dukedom. While she and Max had exchanged frequent letters and telegrams with his sisters, his parents had been noticeably absent in their communication. When Max had succeeded in withdrawing Crenshaw interest from India, his father had raged and then took his wife on an extended tour of Europe.
The couple had only returned to London a few months ago, weeks after the birth of August’s son. In that time they had taken pains to reach out to each of their children. The progress to repair the relationships was slow, but the gesture had garnered them an invitation to Charrington Manor for the christening. Max and his sisters were understandably wary of their parents, but Helena hoped this could be the beginning of their reconciliation. She didn’t believe any of the siblings would have a particularly close relationship with them, but she didn’t think it was a good idea for excessive animosity to linger.
“It’s the first time seeing your parents in over two years. I think some nerves are appropriate.” She ran her palms over his coat, smoothing out invisible lines.
He sighed. “I don’t know why they have to be so damned difficult.”
“They want to make amends.” The letter that had arrived before she and Max had left New York had stated as much. “Perhaps their difficult days are behind them.”
“This is my parents you’re talking about.”
She laughed and took his hand, lacing her fingers with his. “You’re right. We can only hope for slightly less exasperating. But Crenshaw Iron is fully in yours and August’s hands now, and we’re wed. There’s hardly any mischief they can get up to.”
“We can hope.” He brought her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back as he led her out of their room and toward the stairs where his parents waited in the drawing room below. The idea was to meet with them and his sisters briefly before setting out for the chapel.
The old manor house had been extensively refurbished since August had married into the family. The walls had been replastered and covered with fresh papering, the rugs were new and plush, and the hardwood flooring gleamed with fresh varnish and wax. Helena could hardly take the time to admire the work because her heart was like a wild thing in her chest. As the one who had advocated for this meeting, she felt responsible if it didn’t go well.
Please let it go well.
The family was already assembled in the drawing room. Little Rosie’s giggles bubbled out to greet them as a footman opened the door for them. The little girl was dressed in her finest pink gown and sitting on the knee of her grandmother playing with a colorful paper pinwheel the woman had obviously given her. Millie showed her how to blow it just so to get it to spin, and the girl tried then giggled again at her failed attempt. Violet and Christian sat on the sofa opposite them watching, Violet with a smile on her face, and Christian with a slightly more guarded expression. Mr. Crenshaw stood next to his wife and granddaughter, looking on fondly at the scene.
“Max. Helena.” Millie was the first to catch sight of them, her smile widening.
Mr. Crenshaw sobered and straightened. Christian moved to take Rosie into his arms, tossing the girl up in the air and catching her to distract her and drawing more giggles from her. Millie stood and hurried over to them. “I am so happy to see you both.” Tears shimmered in her eyes as she took Helena’s hands and kissed her cheek before she moved on to embrace her son.
Max hugged her back. “Mother, it’s good to see you.”
She appeared overcome and reached up to cup his cheek. “You haven’t changed a bit.”