Lucien understood his sister’s reasons for leaving all too well. He’d fled from this kind of family celebration himself until Grace had come into his life.
He stepped up behind her, the blue silk of her skirts brushing against him as he whispered near her ear, “Might I steal my wife away from her adoring throng for just a moment?” He could feel the shiver of awareness that went through her as his breath warmed her neck.
“Always…” She turned back toward him, her face lighting up. “And for much longer than a moment!”
Tonight, he had a special gift to deliver to the woman who had made this day possible. He drew her beneath a kissing ball streaming with ribbons, and she turned her face to him. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her, but his gaze caught on a white bit of fluff from her hair. “Is this supposed to mimic snowfall?” he asked, plucking it off, then showing her.
“Oh, no!” She laughed. “The puppy stole a toy horse from the present table, and I fear the wee rogue was flinging the stuffing in the air.”
“Of course, you came to the rescue.”
“And mended the tear without anyone being the wiser,” she said with a mischievous grin. “Please tell me that’s the only stowaway!” She bent her head down for him to examine the glossy brown locks in their sweet chignon.
“You could be covered in it and you’d still be beautiful, you know. Disheveled suits you,” he said.
She looked up at him, smiling. “It seems to me that you’re stalling. What did you want to steal me away for?”
“I have a gift for you.”
“This is gift enough.” She waved her hand around the room filled with family and laughter and love. “Everyone I love, here. Especially you.”
“Give me your hand,” he commanded.
She held them both out with delighted anticipation. He caught her left hand in his then tugged off the betrothal ring.
“Lucien!” she cried in protest as he thrust the ring in his pocket. “Whatever are you doing?”
“I was a pompous arse when I selected that,” he said. “I wanted you to wear something imposing. Something that screamed the Harcourt name, told every man in England that you were mine.” He stared down at her finger, gliding his thumb over the slender gold band that remained. His voice softened. “I know better now.”
He drew a small jeweler’s box from the pocket of his coat, then opened it.
Grace stared at the ring pillowed on black velvet, and he loved the gasp that came from her pink lips as she took in the simple pearl glowing soft in the light, a sapphire on each side.
He slipped the ring from its case, then slid it onto her fourth finger. “I had this made just for you,” he said.
“It’s exquisite.” Her face shone with such happiness his heart squeezed. “Like a little moon with stars on each side.”
“Exactly what I thought when I described it to the jeweler.”
“And here I thought it might be something about grit turning to pearl after being hauled from a lake.” Her eyes sparkled as bright as the cut stones. He kissed her knuckles. “I suppose grit turning to pearl is…a fair description of our love. Even thenyou had begun to chip away the hard shell I wore,” he said. Somehow, he realized, Grace had created a love so beautiful, so surprising…that it scarce seemed real. He turned her face up to his, not caring that half the people in the ballroom were staring at them. “The sapphires I chose have meaning as well,” he said. “One is for you, my bright star. One for our babe.”
“A babe!” The nearby jolting squeal came from Helen Elliot. Puppy forgotten, she jumped up, clasping her hands in delight.
Lord Elliot stood beside her, his voice was rough with emotion as he looked at his daughter. “Oh, my dearest…”
Lucien slid his arm about his wife’s waist, and turned to the assembled guests. “It’s true,” he announced, his voice carrying across the room. “Come May, I will be a father.”
Applause broke out, and soon they were crowded by well-wishers. Lucien accepted congratulations, his chest swelling with pride and happiness until suddenly he was aware of the three Bennet boys and the Nolan children pointing and whispering and eyeing him askance.
“You heard our news?” Lucien asked, his arm still about his wife.
“Aye.” Robert Nolan’s eyebrows arched to his hairline. “But ye a da? Gor’! Scrap likes ye well enough, but ye don’t seem very good at babies an’ such.”
Bennet, puppy in his arms, leaned toward Sibby Rose, with a solemn nod. “Scared my brother so bad Avery bit him once.”
“Wasn’t scared!” Avery protested.
“Well I was!” Lucien said. “I thought I’d found an alligator under my bed.” The two glared at each other in mock outrage. When Avery’s mouth stretched into a grin, Lucien laughed. His sides ached with it, joy he’d lost for decades spilling forth…joy he could barely remember feeling before Grace. For a moment, the children gaped at him, then they dissolved into giggles as well.
