Too Wilde to Wed (The Wildes of Lindow Castle, #2)(92)

“Well, I’m not taking the title,” Leonidas announced, in the most decisive tone North had ever heard his young brother use. “I’ll flee to Scotland and help Godfrey head the clan instead. Or open a tavern!”

“Erik wouldn’t make a terrible duke,” the duke said thoughtfully.

“Truly?” Diana whispered against North’s chest.

“Yes,” North answered, deep joy resounding in his bones. There was too much noise and excitement in the room; he walked his future wife from the parlor and out the front door into the courtyard.

It was dark, and the now-empty yard was illuminated by lanterns hanging from the stone walls.

“I’ve never heard of anyone giving up his place as heir,” Diana said. “What if you come to regret it in a few years?”

“I promise you, I won’t.” He grinned down at her. “Why would I want to be duke? Parth has turned my inheritance into an outrageous fortune. You and I can live like a duke and duchess, if we wish, but in private.”

“I don’t wish for that.”

“I don’t wish for more than you,” North said.

Godfrey ran out the door, having followed them. Diana held out her hand to the little boy, but kept her eyes on North. “The odd thing is that I was about to tell you . . .”

“That you love me enough to become my duchess,” he stated, giving her a kiss.

“You guessed?”

“I love you enough to give up the title, and you love me enough to take it on.”

“I will be your duchess,” she promised. “I’ll be a good one too. If I can weather being an inept barmaid, I can certainly manage, at some point in the distant future, to be an inept duchess.”

North looked down at Diana, her beautiful, impulsive face solemn and earnest, and bellowed with laughter. He scooped up Godfrey, who started laughing too, a spiral of boyish giggles that floated into the night air.

“Stop that, you two,” Diana cried. “That was a heartfelt offer. It’s possible I would be a good duchess. I just don’t want to make promises I might not be able to keep.”

“I don’t want you to be an inept duchess,” North said, catching his breath.

“You don’t?”

“I want you to be next to me, to be my partner, not my duchess. I want to grow old with you, and love you, and argue with you.”

He set the boy down and squatted before him. “You’ll be my son, Godfrey. Is that all right with you?”

“Yes,” Godfrey said, as nonchalantly as if he’d been speaking for years.

“We shall live in a different house, not the castle, but Artie can visit you.”

“Yes.”

Diana came down on her knees. “We will be a family.”

A moment later, the door swung shut behind Godfrey, who was headed to the parlor with orders to be polite to his newfound great-uncle, and stay close to Artie and the duchess.

Diana wound her arms around North’s neck. “You needn’t give up the dukedom,” she said. “I can do this. You know I can.”

“I would hate being a duke.” The rough emotion in his voice told its own story.

“But Horatius . . .” Her voice trailed away.

“You’re a wonderful mother to Godfrey, but you aren’t the same mother that Rose would have been, are you?”

She shook her head.

“I tried to be Horatius, but it was impossible. Fortunately, my father was farsighted enough to have many sons. Erik is only eight, but he does have an air of command. He won’t be Horatius, but he might take on the title in his own way.”

“From a governess’s point of view, I can assure you that Erik is quite devilish,” Diana said.

“An excellent attribute for a future duke. I needn’t renounce the title immediately; there’s time for Erik to grow up as a normal lad, not the Marquess of Saltersley. Perhaps Alaric will decide that he wants to be Duke of Lindow. Perhaps Leonidas will change his mind. I don’t care. I see no reason to formally renounce a title I never assumed until my father passes away, hopefully not for many years.”

Diana’s mind was clearly whirling with questions, but she smiled, came up on her toes, and kissed him. “I haven’t answered that question you asked me.”

Their eyes met and she knew there was nothing to tell him. He knew. He was her heart, and the joy she felt was as natural as the morning.

A number of kisses later, the innkeeper emerged and informed North that a steaming bath was waiting in his best bedchamber. They followed him inside. North stopped at the parlor, looking around the room full of people laughing, talking, and welcoming the Laird of Fennis to the Wilde family, until he caught his aunt’s eye.

Lady Knowe grinned and nodded toward Godfrey, the boy whom he would soon adopt as his son. “All’s well,” she called.

Diana tugged on his hand, and he took a last look at the people he loved so much. And then turned away to follow the person he loved most of all.





Chapter Twenty-six




North carried Diana into the inn’s best bedchamber in the middle of a kiss, managing to kick the door shut behind them.

Diana was having trouble breathing. Her lungs were moving in and out, but she was taking in North’s air, and that made all the difference. Every touch of his tongue made her feel a shudder between her legs, a flare of heat.