Worth Any Price (Bow Street Runners #3)(93)

"I'm not any longer," he said vehemently.

"Thank God for that," Lottie said with a smile, lifting herself up on one elbow. "Because I have become rather addicted toyou ."

Nick traced the moonlit curve of her back with his fingers. "And I finally know what to wish for."

Puzzled, she gazed down at him while the long locks of her hair trailed over his chest and shoulders. "What?"

"The wishing well," he reminded her.

"Oh, yes..." Lottie lowered her face to his chest and nuzzled the soft fur, recalling that morning in the forest. "You wouldn't make a wish."

"Because I didn't know what I wanted. And now I do."

"What do you want?" she asked tenderly.

His hand slipped behind her head, pulling her mouth down to his. "To love you forever," he whispered just before their lips met.

Epilogue

An hour after Master John Robert Cannon was born, Sir Ross carried his infant son to the parlor, where friends and family waited. A chorus of soft, delighted exclamations greeted the sight of the sleeping baby wrapped in a lace-trimmed blanket. Surrendering the bundle to his beaming mother, Catherine, Sir Ross made his way to a chair and lowered himself into it with a long sigh.

Studying his brother-in-law, Nick reflected that he had never seen him look so exhausted and unnerved. Sir Ross had defied convention by staying with his wife while she was in labor, as he was unable to wait outside while she was undergoing the trauma of delivery. With his black hair rumpled and his supreme self-assurance temporarily gone, Sir Ross appeared far younger than usual...an ordinary man who was badly in need of a drink.

Nick poured a brandy at the sideboard and brought it to him. "How is Sophia?" he asked.

"A damned sight better than I am," Sir Ross admitted and received the snifter gratefully. "Thank you." Closing his eyes, he took a deep swallow of the brandy, letting it soothe his overwrought nerves. "Good God, I don't know how women do it," he muttered. Being completely unacquainted with the feminine realm of childbirth, Nick sat in a nearby chair and regarded him with a puzzled frown. "Did Sophia have a difficult time of it?"

"No. But even the easiest of childbirths seems a Herculean effort to me." Seeming to relax slightly, Sir Ross drank more of the brandy. He surprised Nick with his unusual candor. "It makes a husband fearful of ever going back to his wife's bed, knowing what it will all eventually lead to. While she was in labor, I could hardly believe that I was responsible for putting her through that." He smiled wryly. "But then, of course, a man's baser nature eventually wins out."

Nick glanced at Lottie in sudden consternation. Like the other women, she was cooing over the baby, her face soft and radiant. One of her hands rested gently on the curve of her own stomach, where their child was growing. Sensing his stare, Lottie looked up with a smile and wrinkled her nose impishly.

"Damn," Nick muttered, realizing that he was going to be in no better condition than Sir Ross, when his own child was born.

"You'll survive," Sir Ross assured him with a sudden grin, reading his thoughts. "And I'll be there to pour the brandy for you afterward."

They exchanged a friendly stare, and Nick felt an unexpected flicker of liking for the man who had been his adversary for so many years. Shaking his head with a rueful smile, he extended his hand to Sir Ross. "Thank you."

Sir Ross shook his hand in a brief, hard clasp, seeming to understand what Nick was thanking him for. "It was all worth it, then?" he asked quietly.

Settling back in his chair, Nick looked once more at his wife, loving her with an intensity that he never would have believed himself capable of. For the first time in his life he was at peace with himself and the world, no longer haunted by shades of the past. "Yes," he said simply, his soul alight with gladness as Lottie looked back at him once more.

END