It had been nearly a year before he told her the full story of his captivity in South America, and she still occasionally woke from nightmares inspired by the horrors he’d described. But that long, sleepless night when he’d relived every harrowing detail for her had been like lancing a wound. Since then, he’d risen above his ordeal with a courage that awed her.
“Good try, brother,” Amy said without rancor.
“You’re definitely my favorite youngest sister.” He tilted his chin toward the activity down in the field. “I believe the races are about to start.”
Contests of horsemanship always formed part of the picnic’s entertainment. Morwenna watched Silas and Vernon, still best friends, still competitive, mount up. Pascal was already sitting on his chestnut mare, although with Vernon riding last year’s Derby champion, he didn’t stand a chance of winning. But that hardly mattered when a man looked as spectacular in the saddle as he did.
Everyone, adults and children, started to move toward the makeshift course to watch the fun. All except Morwenna and Robert who lingered behind on the rise with their new daughter. Amy was right. Morwenna was besotted. And so, she was delighted to note, was Jane’s papa.
“Anthony’s playing umpire again,” Robert said, frowning into the sun. At the finish line, Anthony Townsend, Lord Kenwick, towered over his delicate blond wife Fenella.
“At least he’s big enough to stop any fights,” Morwenna said with a fond laugh.
“Not that he gets much practice with his perfect wife and perfect children,” Robert said wryly. “He should come and pour oil on troubled waters at my house. That would really test his skills.”
Morwenna cast him a sardonic glance. “Your children are perfect.”
He rolled his eyes. “When they’re asleep. Maybe.”
“You wouldn’t have it any other way.”
He shook his dark head. “No, I love their spirit. They get it from their mother.”
She arched her eyebrows. “Are you saying she’s not perfect either?”
His smile held such a wealth of unconditional love, her breath caught. “She’s perfect for me.”
“Oh, Robert…” Even after all these years, he maintained the ability to turn her heart to syrup.
He leaned in, juggling the baby, and kissed her. “I love you, my darling.”
“And I love you.” She blinked away the misty haze in front of her eyes. “We’ve been lucky, haven’t we?”
They had, despite their years of heartbreak and separation. Robert had needed a long time to recover from his captivity and find his way on land instead of on the water, but they had made a good life in Devon. And Morwenna could never doubt how much he loved his family. And her. “Yes, we’ve been blessed.”
Holding Anne with one powerful arm, Robert slung the other around his wife’s shoulders. As Helena called “go” to start 1837’s Dashing Widows Stakes, Morwenna leaned against her husband in perfect contentment. She barely spared a glance for the riders down in the field.
As far as she was concerned, it didn’t matter a fig who won the Dashing Widows Stakes today. What mattered was that in the game of life, all the Dashing Widows had emerged victorious.
THE END
Continue reading for an excerpt from:
Pursuing Lord Pascal
* * *
Book 4 in the Dashing Widows series
* * *
Golden Days…
Famous for her agricultural innovations, Amy, Lady Mowbray has never had a romantical thought in her life. Well, apart from her short-lived crush on London’s handsomest man, Lord Pascal, when she was a brainless 14-year-old. She even chose her late husband because he owned the best herd of beef cattle in England!
But fate steps in and waltzes this practical widow out of her rustic retreat into the glamour of the London season. When Pascal pursues her, all her adolescent fantasies come true. And those fantasies turn disturbingly adult when grown-up desire en
ters the equation. Amy plunges headlong into a reckless affair that promises pleasure beyond her wildest dreams – until she discovers that this glittering world hides damaging secrets and painful revelations set to break a country girl’s tender heart.