Gregory rose to his feet, pulling Lucy up along with him. “You,” he said to Lucy’s uncle, “will leave the country. Tomorrow. Don’t return.”
“I shall pay his passage,” Richard bit off. “No more.”
“You are more generous than I would have been,” Gregory muttered.
“I want him gone,” Richard said in a tight voice. “If I can hasten his departure, I am happy to bear the expense.”
Gregory turned to Lord Davenport. “You will never breathe a word of this. Do you understand?”
“And you,” Gregory said, turning to Haselby. “Thank you.”
Haselby acknowledged him with a gracious nod. “I can’t help it. I’m a romantic.” He shrugged. “It does get one in trouble from time to time, but we can’t change our nature, can we?”
Gregory let his head shake slowly from side to side as a wide smile began to spread across his face.
“You have no idea,” he murmured, taking Lucy’s hand. He couldn’t quite bear to be separated from her just then, even by a few inches.
Their fingers twined, and he looked down at her. Her eyes were shining with love, and Gregory had the most overwhelming, absurd desire to laugh. Just because he could.
Just because he loved her.
But then he noticed that her lips were tightening, too. Around the corners, stifling her own laughter.
And right there, in front of the oddest assortment of witnesses, he swept her into his arms and kissed her with every last drop of his hopelessly romantic soul.
Eventually—very eventually—Lord Haselby cleared his throat.
Hermione pretended to look away, and Richard said, “About that wedding…”
With great reluctance, Gregory pulled away. He looked to the left. He looked to the right. He looked back at Lucy.
And he kissed her again.
Because, really, it had been a long day.
And he deserved a little indulgence.
And God only knew how long it would be before he could actually marry her.
But mostly, he kissed her because…
Because…
He smiled, taking her head in his hands and letting his nose rest against hers. “I love you, you know.”
She smiled back. “I know.”
And he finally realized why he was going to kiss her again.
Just because.
Epilogue
In which Our Hero and Heroine exhibit the industriousness of which we knew they were capable.
The first time, Gregory had been a wreck.
The second time was even worse. The memory of the first time had done little to calm his nerves. Just the opposite, in fact. Now that he had a better understanding of what was happening (Lucy had spared him no detail, a pox on her meticulous little soul) every little noise was subject to morbid scrutiny and speculation.