“I will take pleasure in teaching you this lesson,” Nicholas said darkly.
Linfield stiffened. “All right, I agree; I will go…”
“And never mention Lady Cressida again?” Colin persisted.
“Never, I promise,” the marquess agreed.
Nicholas hesitated, wanting the satisfaction to plant the man another facer but knew civility was less scandalous in the moment. “If you dare approach her or lay your hands on her again, I will not be so forgiving again.”
The marquess nodded once, and Nicholas grabbed up his jacket and walked away. Once outside, he lifted his face to the night air and took a deep breath. Then he laughed, the sound loud and joyous. Colin, who had come outside behind him, also grinned and slapped him across the shoulders.
“Congratulations on your match, and I am damned glad you love her.” Colin waved toward the carriage. “Shall we leave?”
“I feel like walking,” Nicholas murmured. “Go on without me.”
His brother left, and Nicholas slipped his hands in his pockets and walked back toward Cressida’s parents’ home, whistling a jaunty tune. Almost thirty minutes later, he was atop her balcony and knocking on her bedroom window. Her face appeared behind the glass, her eyes wide with shock and delight before she shoved open the partition.
“Nicholas! Are you afflicted?”
“Yes, with love.”
She grinned, leaned forward, and peeked below him. “Did you climb?”
“Yes.”
“How did you know this room was mine?”
“Servants finds me charming, especially maids.”
She giggled, the sweet sound wrapping around his chest like beautiful sunshine. “Let me come in. I will sneak away before dawn.”
Cressida gasped. “You are outrageous, Nicholas Fairbanks.”
“Is that a yes?”
She nodded happily and stepped aside for him to enter. Once he was inside, she flung herself into his arms.
“I love you so much; oh, Nicholas, I cannot believe we are to marry.”
“I love you, Cressida, hell, I think I loved you from the first moment I saw you.”
She laughed, hugging him. “Our life will be the best adventure.”
He spun her around, pressing his mouth to hers and tumbling her on the bed where he made love to her before holding her in his arms and falling into peaceful slumber.
A few months later…
Nicholas insistedon painting over the portrait of Lady Cressida, dressing her in the green dress which had made her seem like a wood nymph at her sister’s ball. It now hung over the mantel in their new country home. Although he regretted over-painting his masterpiece, he had the original in all her perfection in his bed every night to love and admire.
She was increasing, but to Nicholas she looked as perfect in her aspect of mother goddess as she had as Aphrodite, and they had never been happier. Even Lady Dunmore had come round to their marriage as she heard that she had a grandchild on the way.
Laughter sounded, and he lowered the paintbrush to look out the windows of their country estate. His lovely wife played croquet on the lawns with his family. Cressida’s head was tipped back, and she laughed, her shoulders shaking with mirth. He could not imagine what James and Richard were doing, but they acted some sort of play before her. Even Emma, and Lizzy, who was also heavily pregnant, held their sides laughing.
Nicholas shrugged on his jacket and bounded from the room to join his family in the picnic and fun they’d plan for the day.
“He is here!” Richard crowed. “Let the competition begin. Cricket first!”
Nicholas grinned and strolled over to his wife to kiss her before drawing back and rolling up his sleeves. “Let the fun begin!”
* * *