Devil's Daughter (The Ravenels #5)(93)

“. . . brought the children,” she was saying. “They’re downstairs with Nanny.”

Kingston laughed quietly. “Your mother will have a fit of temper when I tell her I had them all to myself here, while she was at Heron’s Point.” Becoming aware of West’s approach, he stepped back and opened the door a bit wider.

Phoebe.

Joy filled West in a violent rush. Thunderstruck by the force of his feelings, he could only stare at her. In that moment, he knew that no matter what happened from then on, no matter what he had to do, he would never be able to leave her again.

“Father sent for me this morning,” Phoebe said breathlessly. “I had to hurry to catch the train in time.”

Clumsily West took a step back as she entered the room.

“I’ve done my part,” the duke said. “Now I suppose I’ll have to leave it to you two.”

“Thank you, father,” Phoebe replied wryly. “We’ll try to manage without you.”

Kingston left, closing the door behind him.

West stayed exactly where he was as Phoebe turned to face him. Holy Hell, it felt good to be near her. “I’ve been thinking,” he said huskily.

A tremulous smile curved her lips. “About what?”

“Trust. When I told you I couldn’t count on someone loving me . . .”

“Yes, I remember.”

“I realized that before I can have trust . . . actually feel it . . . I’ll have to start doing it. Trusting blindly. I’ll have to learn how. It’s . . . difficult. “

Her beautiful eyes shimmered. “I know, darling,” she whispered.

“But if I’m ever going to try it with anyone, it has to be you.”

Phoebe inched closer to him. Her eyes were so bright, they were like bottled lightning. “I’ve been thinking, too.”

“About?”

“About surprises. You see, there was no way of knowing how much time Henry and I would have together before his decline started. As it turned out, it was even less time than we’d expected. But it was worth it. I would do it again. I wasn’t afraid of his illness, and I’m not afraid of your past, or whatever might leap out at us. That’s the chance everyone takes, isn’t it? The only ironclad guarantee is that we’ll love each other.”

West’s heart was thundering now, his entire life poised at the brink. “There is one problem,” he said hoarsely. “I once promised never to propose to you. But I never said I wouldn’t accept a proposal. I’m begging you, Phoebe . . . Ask me. Because I love you and your children more than my heart can bear. Ask me as a mercy, because I can’t live without you.”

Her smile was blinding as she drew closer. “West Ravenel, will you marry me?”

“Oh God, yes.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately, too hard for pleasure, but she didn’t seem to mind at all.

Now their story would begin, their futures instantly rewritten. Two futures joined into one. Light seemed to shimmer all around them, or perhaps that was just the effect of tears in his eyes. This, West thought in wonder, was far too great a portion of happiness for one man.

“Are you sure?” he asked in-between kisses. “Somewhere out there, the perfect man you deserve is probably searching for you.”

Phoebe laughed against his mouth. “Let’s hurry, then—we can be married before he gets here.”





Author’s Note




The phrase “God Speed the Plow” started in the 1400s. It relies on the original Middle English meaning of the word speed: prosperity and success. Plowmen used to sing a song of this title on Plow Monday, the first Monday after Twelfth Night, when all the plowmen would go back to work hoping for a successful season.

According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the origin of using x’s in letters to represent kisses dates back to a letter written by British curate and naturalist Gilbert White in 1763. However, Stephen Gorenson, a highly respected researcher and language specialist at Duke University, says the x’s in Gilbert White’s letter were intended to mean blessings. Gorenson found citations of the definite use of x’s as kisses from 1890 onward, including a letter from Winston Churchill to his mother in 1894: “Please excuse bad writing as I am in an awful hurry. (Many kisses.) xxx WSC.”

As part of my research, I watched (along with my husband Greg, who’s a history buff) the BBC’s British historical documentary Victorian Farm and the follow-up Victorian Farm Christmas. We were enthralled! The show recreates everyday life on a mid-1800s Shropshire farm by sending a team of three people—historian Ruth Goodman and archaeologists Alex Langlands and Peter Ginn to live and work there for a year. We found it on YouTube—watch it, you’ll love it!

Thank you for your kindness and enthusiasm, my wonderful readers! I love sharing my work with you, and I’m grateful every day that you make it possible.

—L.K.