Mary had induced the count to do the right thing and return the Albertinelli to the Hinckleys in return for seeing his daughter make her come-out next year in the heart of London’s haut ton, under the Marchioness of Raventhorne’s wing. Apparently, for an Austrian count, that was a coup of no mean standing.
Ellie grinned. “If I hadn’t met Mary, I would wonder why you use military terms to describe how she thinks.”
Godfrey huffed. “She’s a Cynster by birth. There’s a certain streak of ruthlessness that runs through them all. But don’t think I’m complaining. With the return of the Albertinelli and your father and Eastlake confirming its sale to the gallery, along with the del Sarto, not only are the directors in alt, but so is Eastlake.” Godfrey grinned at the memory of his recent meeting with that august gentleman. “Frankly, finding all those paintings at Hinckley Hall has made my name.”
“Confirmed your name,” Ellie insisted. “Eastlake already knew enough to trust you.”
The crowd before them parted, and Sylvia walked through, arm in arm with her husband, Kit, the Cavanaugh brother closest in age to Godfrey. The couple were followed by Rand and Felicia—Godfrey’s elder brother and his wife. Mary and Stacie—languidly trailed by their husbands, Ryder and Frederick—were flitting about, sharing the hostess’s duties; Ellie had been sternly informed that it was not acceptable for a bride to act as hostess at her own wedding breakfast.
“We wondered,” Kit said, as the three couples formed a loose circle, “whether you had any plans for a wedding trip?”
Ellie glanced at Godfrey. They’d discussed the prospect at length. She smiled and nodded.
After setting their empty glasses on a passing footman’s tray, Godfrey caught her hand and twined her arm with his. “We thought,” he said, “to wait until after the Season, then sail to Italy. It’s been a few years since I visited the galleries there, and I want to show them to Ellie.”
“Damn!” Kit lightly punched Rand’s arm. “Why is it you always win?”
Rand chuckled. “I know how to calculate the odds.” To the others, all of whom looked mystified, he explained, “We had a wager going—I plumped for Italy, while Kit insisted you’d choose France, Stacie said Spain, and Ryder thought Germany.”
Godfrey laughed. “We might well visit all those places”—he met Ellie’s eyes—“eventually. But spending summer in a villa overlooking the Mediterranean sounded just perfect for now.”
Smiling back, Ellie lightly squeezed his arm. They’d agreed on that with no real argument.
“Hmm.” Felicia slid a look at Rand. “That does sound appealing. You’ll have to tell us all about it when you get back.”
Rand frowned. “Italy is a long way from London.”
“That,” Felicia tartly informed him, “is entirely my point.”
The others all laughed, and Godfrey and Kit proceeded to rib Rand over his habit of growing overly engrossed in the latest inventions and investment opportunities arising therefrom.
Other guests came to join them, and gradually, the group broke up.
When a few minutes later, Ellie and Godfrey moved on, she was still marveling at how very much at ease she felt with everyone there—not just the neighbors she’d known all her life but also the members of the haut ton, many of whom she hadn’t previously met.
She glanced at Godfrey, and when he caught her eyes and arched an interrogatory brow, she smiled and confessed, “I never expected to feel like this—to be the woman, the lady, you’ve made me.” She sobered a fraction, then went on, “I never expected to find myself walking arm in arm with…a man who understands me. With a gentleman—a noble lord, no less—a partner who completes me and whom I, in turn, complete.”
Godfrey felt his inner glow swell as her words resonated with his own feelings. Lowering his shields, he looked into her eyes and let her see his unwavering agreement as he lifted her hand and carried her fingers to his lips. “Yes.” He brushed a kiss to her fingers. “That’s precisely it. You and I were meant to be a couple. We complement each other so that, together, we are more, much more, than either of us could ever be alone.”
Holding her gaze, he pressed another kiss to her fingers. “We are who we are, and you’re mine, and I’m yours.”
The smile that lit her face was one of radiant joy.
Making a mental note to do whatever was required to see that smile as often as possible throughout the rest of his life, he lightly squeezed her fingers and, lowering her hand, laid it on his sleeve as, together, they turned to face the room. For her ears alone, he murmured, “And our future is ours to shape.”
Ellie laughed, and they walked on, more than ready to embrace their new life, more than content to embrace the love they’d found and, together, hearts, minds, and souls as one, set out on life’s greatest adventure.
She looked about—saw her family, friends, neighbors, saw her newly acquired family and all their connections. She swept her gaze around, taking in the ballroom, so festive and bright after being shut up for decades. She noted the staff, all bright-eyed and brimming with enthusiasm and an underlying hope.
The hope for a future they felt confident would come.
She glanced at Godfrey, let her gaze linger briefly—lovingly—on his chiseled profile.
This man.
He’d saved her family and her home, had given both a sound and stable future filled with possibilities. He’d opened doors for her siblings and opened their eyes to wider horizons as well.
He was selfless in giving to her and to them.
Yet she didn’t feel indebted to him. Throughout the past weeks, through talking with her new sisters-in-law and his brothers, she’d come to understand that she and her family and even Hinckley Hall itself had given him something he’d truly craved. The basis for a real family. His own family. Not just those already here but all who might yet come.
Between them, the scales were balanced.
As, with a smile on her lips, she moved with him into the crowd of guests still wishing to fête them and their union, she couldn’t find better words than those he’d used months earlier to sum up the entirety of what they both, in their hearts, believed.
Family is what life is truly about.
That sentiment said it all, and she was as eager as he to see where it led them.
Dear Reader,
As the youngest of the Cavanaugh siblings, Godfrey’s tale was always going to be a bit different. With his half brother, two older two brothers, and his sister now all wed and happily engaged with their own growing families, it seemed clear that Godfrey would approach the issue of marriage for himself in a rather more relaxed way. I couldn’t see him being all that concerned with marriage one way or the other. In contrast, he would, I felt sure, feel a certain pressure to make his own mark in the world, to carve out his own niche. I had a lovely time researching the National Gallery and its interests in those times, and also delving into the world of the High Renaissance painters and their artworks – until I could understand Godfrey’s obsession with the field!
Devising the reason behind Godfrey’s visit to Hinckley Hall in deepest Yorkshire, and all that came next, Godfrey falling into Ellie Hinckley’s life and finding his connection to a family of his own, and the rising of his protective instincts in defending the Hinckleys against an unknown villain and the consequences, skullduggery and all, was great fun.