Lessons from a Scandalous Bride (Forgotten Princesses #2)(71)

Sighing, he felt his beaten body finally ease and relax. Draping an arm around her waist and holding her close, he inhaled her clean scent and forgot all of his aches and pains. The elation in his heart eclipsed all else.

“Logan?” she murmured sleepily, lifting her head.

He looked down at her face, brushing a wet strand of hair from her cheek. “I’m here.”

“I thought I was dreaming.” Her eyes blinked with alertness.

“No dream.”

“How . . .”

“Did you think I could stay away from you?”

Emotion brightened her gaze. “You’re not angry at me . . . for leaving you?”

He stared into her eyes for a long time, the knowledge seeping into his bones that she was the one. The woman he was born to love. The woman he was meant to live out his life with. And that just maybe . . . she felt the same way. “You came back.” His thumb brushed her bottom lip. “That’s all that matters to me. That’s everything.”

A sob choked her throat and her lips quivered. “I never should have left. I was scared. I was running away . . . too scared to give us a chance. To take a risk. When we returned and I learned what happened, that you were buried under that wall, I thought it was my punishment for turning away from you . . . from denying what I felt. I love you.”

“No punishment,” he muttered fiercely, holding her face in both hands and kissing her roughly. He broke away to rasp against her lips, “I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you. Because if you ever try to leave again, I’ll chase you down and drag you back home—here where you belong.”

She snuggled closer to him, her face upturned to his. “I’ll never leave again.”

“I’ve always wanted you, Cleo. You just had to let go . . . and let me love you.”

Her eyes shimmered wetly in the dim room. “I’m letting you.”

“And I’m yours. Forever.”

“I love you, Logan.”

He smiled and kissed her again, long and deep. “It’s about time you said it.”





Epilogue

One month later . . .

Cleo looked up from her knitting at the sound of wheels rolling into the courtyard. She was attempting to make Logan a scarf but so far it more resembled a lopsided belt. She gave it one last disapproving glance before rising to investigate the noise outside. She was almost to the window when the drawing-room doors burst open.

“Stop right there,” her husband directed, wagging his finger at her. His handsome grin belied his commanding tone.

“What? Who’s here?”

He seized her hand. “Come and you shall see.” Pulling her behind him, he hastened through the foyer and stepped outside.

Several carriages filled the courtyard. A dog barked anxiously around the wheels. Cleo held up a hand to shield her eyes from the rare brightness of the afternoon.

A carriage door opened. She grew breathless as one groom handed down a small child. And then another. And another. Bedraggled children began to spill out from the other carriages. They were the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.

“Cleo!”

She choked back a sob as the little bodies ran over to her and embraced her so fiercely she nearly lost her balance. Tears blinded her.

She turned to face her husband, blinking through the deluge. “You did this?”

She’d spent the last month writing letters to her family, to Roger, receiving no response. She’d begun to fear that her stepfather had changed his mind.

Logan reached out and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Yes. I would do anything for you, Cleo.”

A sob escaped her then. Logan pulled her into his arms for a long hug, his hands strong and warm on her back. In that moment, she believed this man could do anything. He’d saved her family. He’d saved her.

The children clamoring for her attention finally forced her to pull away. “Yes, yes, my loves! Welcome home!”

They clapped gleefully, but in their joy she read the desperate relief on their faces. Down to the youngest one of them, they each knew they were safe now. Everything was going to be fine. Her heart clenched as she thought of her mother, missing her. She should be here, too . . .

Then suddenly Cleo saw her emerge from the last carriage.

“Mama,” she whispered hoarsely, unable to believe that she was here. She was free. Her gaze shifted to Logan again, knowing, understanding that somehow he had done this . . . For her.

I love you. She mouthed the words to him over the happy din of her siblings and he nodded, his hand closing around hers, the pulse of his heart fusing to her own, matching the beating rhythm.

“I love you, too, Cleo.”





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   Loretta Chase

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For the last week, the whole of the fashionable world has been in a state of ferment, on account of the elopement of Sir Colquhoun Grant’s daughter with Mr. Brinsley Sheridan . . . On Friday afternoon, about five o’clock, the young couple borrowed the carriage of a friend; and . . . set off full speed for the North.