Johanna Lindsey (36 page)

“Cor!” Timothy exclaimed from across the room. “He’s your father? But he’s not the man I spoke to in the stable, who said his son was dead.”

Sebastian turned incredulously to the boy to catch his furious blush. John came up behind Timothy and gently yanked a lock of his hair.

“No more reconnaissance for you, my lad,” John said.

“It was just one mistake!” Timothy complained.

“But a whopper.”

“Have you figured it out yet?” Margaret asked sternly beside Sebastian.

“That I let assumptions cripple me and never did anything about it?”

“Sort of what happened to Giles, eh?”

“Leave that blighter out of this.”

She sighed. “One step at a time, I suppose. But if you don’t hug your father and forgive him right now, I may have to divorce you after all.”

“You lost that chance, m’dear.”

“Don’t lose yours.”

He glanced at his father. Douglas was expressionless now, guarded, afraid to say anything else that might tip the scale the wrong way. God, he’d done that to him with the blasted shell he’d erected for his emotions, the shell that had just been cracked.

“I’ve missed you,” he said simply.

Douglas’s expression crumbled. He put his arms around Sebastian and hugged him hard.

“Welcome home, son.”

Such simple words, and years of pain were washed away. The moisture gathered, uncontrollable, and then he caught sight of his ex-friend over his father’s shoulder, smiling happily at him.

“Giles, I’m going to kill you again,” he said, though without heat.

Giles grinned cheekily. “How many times have you said that now? You know you’re glad to have me back.”

Denton came up and hugged Sebastian as well. “It’s good to have you back. And I’ll help you kill the blighter.”

Sebastian chuckled. “It’s over. Get on with your life. Find a nice girl to marry this time—and no, you can’t have Maggie. I’m keeping her.”

Margaret beamed at them, bursting with pride for her part in bringing this family back together.

Why, if she hadn’t thought Douglas’s life was in danger and listened to Abigail’s urgings, she never would have tried to hire the notorious Raven—and ended up finding love instead.

“So you’re really home?” she asked her husband a while later.

She had dragged him up to the balcony his mother had so enjoyed, stood there with him at her back, his arms around her as they watched winter waves breaking on the coast. It was chilly, but he offered enough heat for them both.

“I was home the moment you told me you loved me, Maggie. My home is wherever you are.” She turned around to hug him. “I’m glad my sister found some happiness with Giles, however briefly. I just wish she had trusted me enough to tell me.”

“He probably infected her with his fears that you might tell someone.” She looked up at him. “Not everyone can be like you.”

He raised a brow. “Like me?”

“Spitting in the eye of death.”

He snorted. “It’s easy to be courageous when you don’t have anything to live for. Now that I do, I’m going to be a veritable coward.”

She chuckled. “Rubbish. But you have forgiven Giles, right? He’s the father of my nephew. I expect to see a lot of him, often.”

He sighed. “I’ll tolerate him, but only because he named his son after me.”

“Did he? And what shall we name our son?”

“Are you—?”

“No, but I want to be.”

“Good God, Maggie,” he said and surprised her by picking her up in his arms. “You shouldn’t say things like that right before dinner, not if you want to eat anytime soon.” She laughed as he carried her off to her old bedroom, which had been his old bedroom. Rather appropriate that it was now theirs.