“Liar,” she said with a laugh. “I hope I shall have your ear, though, at least.”
“Both of them. And my eyes”—he looked at her with a fire that made her breathless—“and my mouth”—his lips brushed against hers—“and my hands.” He slid them down the length of her back, then pressed her against him. “I am yours entirely, Caroline. Today. Tomorrow. Always.”
She shut her eyes and breathed in the words until theyfilled her from head to toe. “I love you, Frederick.” She rose onto her toes and kissed him again in that silent, sure way that spoke feelings for which she could not find the words.
“You owe me a dance, you know,” he whispered against her lips.
“Do I?”
He threaded his fingers through hers and slipped his other hand around her waist. “I beat you in the sack race. Remember?”
“Only because I let you.”
“Yes. Because, in your heart of hearts, you wanted me to stay.”
She laughed softly, putting her cheek to his. “I did.”
He sighed contentedly, letting his cheek rest more fully against hers as they swayed to the sound of the waves.
“You let me get ahead, though, didn’t you?” she said.
She felt his smile against her cheek. “The greatest gamble of my life. But I needed to see whether you truly wished me gone.”
“What would you have done if I had won?”
It was quiet for a moment. “I would have left, as promised.”
She held him more tightly, infinitely grateful that shehadhesitated.
He pulled back to look at her, his eyes soft and earnest. “I would have found my way back to you, Caroline. I gave my word that I would leave”—his eyes twinkled in the muted, gray light—“but not that I would stay away.”
She pulled away. “Those are the words of an unprincipled rake, Frederick Yorke.”
“No.” He grinned with irrepressible mischief. “They are the words of a man utterly besotted by you. Would you rather I had stayed away?”
Her smile betrayed her, and she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him back to her.
He gave a breathy laugh, then pressed his lips to hers a final time, and she yielded gladly.
For so long, she had feared surrendering her future—her power—to another man, but in Frederick’s arms, with her heart given over to him, she knew she was not surrendering that power at all; she was using it. Choosing him. Choosing herself.
Choosing the life she wanted at last.
EPILOGUE
FREDERICK
Frederick shook the hands of a few colleagues as he exited the final session of Parliament for the year, then put on his top hat and quickened his pace.
While he regretted leaving men he counted as friends with the knowledge he would not see them for months, he was far more eager about who hewouldsee.
He turned a corner and slowed when he spotted Caroline, standing two dozen yards ahead.
She was dressed for travel, and he couldn’t stop a smile, knowing that she was every bit as eager as he for today.
She had blossomed in London in many ways. While she had expressed some reluctance to come to London his first year in Parliament, her tune had quickly changed once Frederick had shown her the town, taken her to gatherings on his arm, and introduced her to his acquaintances.
At the close of his second year in Parliament, he could honestly say that she had more friends and admirers than he.
