Never Miss a Chance (23 page)

It was what she’d been waiting to hear.

“I love you Marcus,” she said, as she walked toward him.

“I love you, too, Lizzie.  From now until the end of time.”

“Marcus, you are a poet.  I always suspected.”

“Then sometimes it pays to be predictable.”

“One more question, Marcus,” she said as she reached up to
kiss him lightly on the lips.

“Yes?” he asked, as he tried to resist throwing her on the
bed and having his way with her.

“I may write more treatises in the future.  In fact, I can’t
imagine I would give them up.”

He kissed her lingeringly, then came up for breath.          “I
wouldn’t have you any other way.”

“Excellent, because I would like to advocate the
distribution of contraceptive devices.  Not for me, of course.  Frankly, I
cannot wait to have tiny Marcuses running about the house.”

Marcus buried his head in her neck, not sure whether to
laugh or cry.  So he did what he’d wanted to do for so long.  He kissed her.  
Slowly, with banked heat and the promise of more to come.  

Because they didn’t just have all night. 

They had the rest of their lives.

*                    *                    *

The next morning, Arthur was the last one down to the
breakfast room, other than Lady Riverton and her daughters, none of whom ever rose
before noon.  The Earl of Stalford was, as Lady Edith’s traumatized maid could
attest, also absent.

“Miss Rennard has left,” said a stunned Arthur, as he held aloft
a note.  “She is in pursuit of the Marleys.”

“I cannot say I’m particularly surprised,” said Lizzie. 
“You should’ve offered to go with her.”

“I did!”

“Oh,” said Lizzie.  “That’s not a good sign.”

“You’re losing your touch, brother mine,” said Hal.

“She sounds,” said Lynwood, “like a woman it is just as well
to see the back of.”

“She did have a particularly pleasant backside,” said Hal. 
“Can’t say I didn’t spare a thought or two to that part of her anatomy a few times. 
Oh, don’t scowl at me, Arthur.  I shan’t stand in your way.”

“But didn’t Arthur just say she was gone?” asked Riverton.

“That doesn’t mean he won’t pursue her,” said Lynwood.  “I
just wonder if he’d like some company along the way.  I’ll come with you if
you’d like, Arthur.”

“As will I,” said Hal.

“And I,” said Stapleton. 

“Riverton’s staying close to home,” said Lizzie.  “So don’t
even consider taking him.”

“I thank all of you,” said Arthur, “but this is something I
must do alone.  Don’t worry.  I can take care of myself, except for one thing. 
It seems Miss Rennard has stolen my horse.”

“She took Merlin?” said Lizzie.  “Now, I really like Miss
Rennard, having stolen your prize horse right out from under you.  Well,
almost.  You weren’t actually on Merlin when she stole him, were you, Arthur? 
Please say you were.  It’s the only thing that could make this story even
better.”

“I was not on Merlin.  I’m just surprised my horse would go
off without me.”

Hal looked at him.  “Given the choice of ferrying the
delightful Miss Rennard or having to lug you around, I can only say Merlin made
the right decision.”

Arthur ignored his brother.  “Riverton, I must ask for the
loan of a horse.  If I don’t set out to find her now, I fear I shall never
catch up.”

“You may have any horse in my stable,” said Riverton.   “But
how do you know where she’s gone?”

“I have my suspicions,” said Arthur, as he folded the note
and tucked it away.  “I shall see you all soon.”

EPILOGUE

London, Three Weeks Later

It was a decidedly odd feeling to have married off one
brother and to have a sister affianced, thought Lynwood as he took a seat at
White’s before ordering a brandy.  It was even odder to realize the baby of the
family was a full-grown woman and soon to be a marchioness.  He couldn’t
imagine a better husband for her.  Her marriage would be as happy as Ned’s.

Lynwood House was going to be a good deal quieter without
Lizzie.  And much of the joy and liveliness would be gone as well.  First Ned
had left, now Lizzie.  While Arthur would eventually return, it was only a
matter of time until he was married and setting up his own household.  And
Lynwood had a pretty good guess of who his bride would be.

That would leave only Hal at home.  While there was little
chance Hal would marry any time in the near future, the life he led as a young
buck on the town was very different from the one Lynwood lived.  And, if he
were honest, that life had begun to pall.  He currently had no mistress, nor
did he have anyone in mind to fill the position.  He’d always avoided married
women and a dalliance with a widow didn’t particularly interest him at the
moment.

But listening to Ned talk about his growing family had been
illuminating.  He was absolutely besotted with his wife and obviously loved Vi
and his unborn child.  He was contented with his life and it made Lynwood
wistful. 

Liam had always known he would marry and have children.  It
was, after all, his duty.  Maybe now was the time to tend to it.  And if he
thought long and hard, perhaps there was one lady who would be a good wife. 
One he’d like to have by his side, to be mother to his children and to warm his
bed at night.

Yes, there was one woman indeed.

Applause and cheers from the next room roused him from his
imaginings.

“What’s going on?” he asked the Earl of Stalford, who’d just
come from there. 

“Fallmoor’s gone and found himself another fiancée.  Seems
like the sot is determined to marry and get an heir off some chit before he
departs this earth.  I’d pity the girl if he weren’t so insanely wealthy. 
Maybe I’ll bide my time and look after his widow once he finally sticks his
silver spoon in the wall.”

“Aren’t you a married man?” asked Lynwood, knowing very well
he was, since he’d attended Stalford’s wedding to Lady Edith, where he’d
strained his forearm protecting his manhood from Charlotte’s grasping hands. 
He also knew that while Stalford talked a good game, his marriage had every
appearance of being a love match. 

“What the devil does my marital status have to do with anything? 
I’m just thinking of consoling the poor girl, that’s all.  Don’t you want to
know the name of the bride-to-be?”

Never one to gossip, Lynwood just shrugged.  But that didn’t
stop Stalford from continuing.  “It’s Lady Rosalind Carson.”

Lynwood was barely able to put his glass back on the table
without shattering it.  Before he could reply, a footman bowed before him,
holding out a silver platter.

“A message from Lynwood House, your grace.”

Lynwood took the sealed message with nerveless fingers. 
Heskiss had forwarded on a message from Arthur.  

Dear Liam
, the note began. 
Have found Miss Rennard
and agreed to help her locate the chest.  Situation complicated, but no need to
worry.  Have written to Stapleton with particulars.  Hope everything is well at
home.  Women are maddening creatures.  Yours, etc. Arthur.”

Yes, thought Lynwood to himself, women are, indeed,
maddening creatures.