Page 28 of The Lyon and the Lamb

He pushed her damp hair from her forehead and kissed her on the bridge of her nose. Her heart swelled.

“I need you more than anything I’ve ever needed before in my life—so much so that I frighten myself. What frightens me still more is that you might cast me off. Please, if you don’t believe my words, feel the beat of my heart. I have more to say, but I’m at risk of babbling and making an utter fool of myself. Which is the very last thing I want to do in front of you, my most precious, my most beloved Araminta.”

Her fingers gripped his damp lapels, and she pressed her face against the hard muscles of his chest, relishing the strength she found there. It was so easy to be with him like this, their bodies pressed together, their hearts beating wildly, madly, and their souls in accord.

“Kiss me first. Then you can tell me whatever else you need to say.”

She heard the smile in his voice. “It would be churlish of me to refuse you, under the circumstances.”

As he bent his head to kiss her, she caught a glimpse of that smile, and all uncertainty fled, to be replaced by a glowing warmth that rapidly burgeoned into the heat of desire. When he eased away from her, she gave a soft mew of disappointment.

“What’s the matter?” Surely, she hadn’t been too eager in her response? He needed to know how she felt.

“I must tell you the rest of it. So that you know you have a choice, and that I won’t crush or coerce you like your first husband. I’ve thought of a way for you to remain at Forty Court if you prefer to. And a way to prevent us from losing contact with our firstborn, if Forty Court remains in your hands. I appreciate that the place is Belinda’s home, and I imagine it would be best for her to stay here.”

“You don’t think she needs to go into an asylum? She doesn’t behave like other young women. You haven’t seen her in one of her fits.”

He looked shocked. “Of course, she mustn’t go to an asylum! If you’re worried, we’ll take medical advice. Though I must say—I’ve met many fellows who thought themselves sane who were far more worrying than Miss Bellamy.”

It all sounded so easy—too easy. But as Araminta had discovered, Leo was a determined man. If it could be achieved, he would find a way.

“And our child?” She quivered at the thought of conceiving a child with him.

“I’ll explain all that later.” She could feel the excitement trembling through him—he was evidently feeling very pleased with himself. Well, she wouldn’t quarrel about that—she was pleased with him, too. More than she could ever have imagined.

“Come now.” He took her hand and chafed it between his own. “We must go inside. There are things to do—I have to arrange a special license so we can be married right away. And it would be disastrous should either of us catch a chill and have to postpone our wedding. However, I insist on stealing another kiss before we go in.”

Standing wrapped in his embrace, Araminta could feel no chill, no rain. There was nothing to fear because, with him by her side, all obstacles could be overcome. Nothing mattered but her and Leo, their two hearts beating as one. And with love to unite them, her only tears from now on would be tears of joy.

Epilogue

Two months later

The chandeliers burned bright, reflecting their golden light onto the dancers down below. The sound of laughter, both male and female, filled the air, gladdening Araminta’s heart as she gazed down from the balcony in the Lyon’s Den.

But nothing filled her heart with more joy than the upright, raven-haired man standing next to her. Her husband. Leo.

“I suppose we should go down and join the scandalous throng, Lady Aylsham.” Leo grinned at her. As it always did, his smile sent arrows of heat shafting along her spine.

“It’s a charitable event, I suppose, so mingling with the daredevil men and misfit ladies who are wont to visit the Lyon’s Den won’t harm our reputation, my lord.”

He glanced up. “No exotic women swinging from the ceiling tonight, I see.”

Araminta remembered how she’d been clad the last time she’d stood on this balcony, recalling vividly the feeling that had swamped her when she’d gazed at the mysterious, masked stranger below. Leo. She’d eventually chosen him for her bedmate—and she would never regret it.

He took her hand and kissed it. “Speaking of charitable actions, I never did find out who sent that large donation shortly after we met. I was so certain it was you, and that you were just trying to sweeten me up so you could take one of the foundlings.”

It was decidedly puzzling. Particularly since the amount the Foundlings’ Hospital had received was exactly half of what she’d given to Mrs. Dove-Lyon in payment for finding her a husband.

As if conjured up by her thoughts, the proprietress of the Lyon’s Den came softly through the adjoining doorway and stood beside them.

“I trust you’re enjoying your evening, Lord and Lady Aylsham? Also, I hope that you’ll shortly be joining us below.”

Araminta glanced at Leo, and he nodded. “We’re just making the most of a few more moments alone before we join the mob.”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon chuckled behind her veil. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. I confess—it was I who made that donation. After Lady Aylsham—Lady Lamb as was—had acquainted me with her circumstances, I decided my gesture, particularly if made anonymously, would intrigue you, my lord. You’d assume the money had come from her and would seek her out to admonish her.”

Leo inclined his head toward her. “Forgive me, but I don’t think I’m that vindictive.”