Page 91 of To Hunt the Hunter

“Pippin,” he said, his voice more serious now. “There is one thing that has been bothering me. What did you send my uncle?”

Pippin’s face darkened and she folded her arms. “When you sent him back to India, I had something put in his trunks. Along with a letter, warning him that his heart would tick down like an unwound clock if he ever set foot in England again.”

“What, Pippin?” he demanded.

Pippin pursed her lips. “You don’t believe in my nonsense, my lord, so there’s no point in you knowing, now is there?”

“It was heart failure,” he said stubbornly. “He always indulged too much in rich food and wine. A lifetime of such overindulgence would have taken its toll.”

“Probably.” Pippin shrugged, though the glint in her eyes did not tally with her reply.

Lucian turned to Matilda for confirmation and she bit her lip, uncertain of how to reply. “Well, it was odd, Lucian,” she said apologetically. “Helena said they all felt the strangest sensation when they held hands. Something powerful.”

“Of course it was powerful,” Pippin scoffed. “They love you, Miss Hunt. Whatever you believe, my lord, Theodore knew what I had predicted. He knew he’d lost the game, and he could feel how protected you were, both of you. Perhaps the knowledge made his heart give out, perhaps it was something more…. What does it matter? He’s dead, and life is for the living. For you both. Make the most of it, my dears.”

Lucian laughed, shaking his head. “We will, you old witch. So don’t go casting any spells on us.”

Pippin winked at him. “I make no promises I’ve no mind to keep, my lord. Now come along, Phoebe. Miss Peabody will have my guts for garters if I don’t take you up to bed now.”

“Miss Peagoose,” Phoebe said, grinning at her.

Pippin pursed her lips, wagging a finger at her. “I told you not to repeat that, you little devil. Come along with you.”

Phoebe gave a crow of laughter and ran to kiss Lucian and then Matilda.

“This is the happiest day of my life,” she announced, as Matilda had to resort to the handkerchief again.

“That it is, my lamb,” Pippin said taking her hand. “While I think of it, my lord, would it be all right with you if Dharani Das were to come to visit me here tomorrow afternoon? It is my day off.”

Lucian stared at her, a little frown between his eyebrows. “On the sole condition you do not cast spells in my kitchen. I do not wish eye of newt for my supper, I assure you.”

Pippin returned a rather wicked smile.

“As if you’d know,” she said, chuckling, and escorted Phoebe out of the room.

“That’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever heard,” Lucian said as the door closed behind her.

Matilda laughed and ran into his arms. She pressed close as he pulled his arms tight, smiling down at her.

“My love.”

“Yes,” she replied, her voice quavering with happiness. “Always.”

“Always,” he repeated softly.

“What changed your mind?” she asked, still unable to believe it was really happening, that she would be his wife.

“I love you too much to let you go,” he said simply. “And your letter made me realise that it was not only I who would suffer if I turned away from you. If I lost you, I would condemn generations to come to live without love. I read your words a hundred times at least, and each time they seemed to echo in my heart, louder and louder.”

“Oh, Lucian,” she said, resting her head on his chest and holding on tight.

He nuzzled her hair, breathing in the heady scent of orange blossom and the woman he loved.

“You were right,” he whispered. “I had never considered my son as anything other than the next Montagu. I had not considered him as a real person, as a boy like Philip or Thomas… or like me. The thought of him living the life I have lived, or anything close to it….”

He shook his head and pulled back to look at her, his beautiful eyes grave and full of adoration.

“I want them to be loved, Matilda, to grow up in a family where they never doubt that each one of them is as valued as much as the next. I want them to know what happiness looks like, and that they are at liberty to find it.”