“Good,” she said. Then, more quietly, “And us? After all, it is all over now.”
He nodded. “We will have to tell everyone the truth. But I do not think it will go badly. After all, we have done society something of a favor by exposing him.”
She shook her head, gathering all her courage. “No. I did not mean that. Though having to tell my mother she does not have a grandchild after all will be difficult enough on its own.”
“I will be at your side,” he said in a low voice that sent a shiver through her. “I will be at your side. Do not fret.”
“Will you be?”
“I will. Please, Clara. Believe me when I say that what you overheard was spoken foolishly, out of frustration with myself and not out of any feeling I have for you. I love you. I have loved you for some time. I simply allowed my own foolishness to get in my way. I tripped myself up time and again, rather the way Arabella tripped up our would-be captor just now.
“I was afraid to fall in love because of Josephine. I did not even truly love her, but I had been humiliated, and I did not think I could bear another humiliation of that sort. And then when David was taken, I felt like a failure because I had not protectedhim, and I had not protected you, and I could not find Arabella. I felt I was no good to anyone. I thought you deserved better.”
“Oh, Julian. You must stop tormenting yourself so.”
“I know. I know it. And after today, more than ever. Arabella is safe. She is back with her son, and her son will never be taken from her again. Devereau will be brought to justice. But all of that means nothing if I walk out of this house tonight without you by my side.”
Clara smiled and let go of his hand, only to wrap her arms around his waist instead.
“Well then. It is rather fortunate that will not happen. For tonight, the two of us will walk out of this house together as husband and wife. I love you, Julian. I have for some while now.”
He beamed at her and pressed his lips to hers, and the kiss was sweet and warm and full of promise all at once. Just as she knew their future together would be.
EPILOGUE
3 MONTHS LATER…
“Goodness gracious, what a tale.” Arabella laughed as she read the London Gazette aloud a month later.
“To protect the child from his devious father, Lady Clara found herself forced to wed Lady Arabella’s cousin, the Duke of Lynden. Together, the two managed to weave a courtship long in the making. Of course, what began as deception turned into true love as any witness who has laid eyes upon the charming couple may readily attest.”
Arabella chuckled. “It is true. Anyone who looks at the two of you can see plainly that you are madly in love.”
Clara looked at Julian, and he took her hand and squeezed it lightly.
“Well, we are no longer hiding it.”
“For which I am very glad indeed.” Arabella’s eyes went back to the article. “It is written so vividly. They gave a very fine accounting of what occurred at Devereau’s Brighton house.”
“They did indeed,” Clara said.
Two weeks ago, they had met with Mrs. Westchester and given her a slightly edited account of the last few months. How they had ended up with little David, who was once again called Horatio now. How Devereau had lured Arabella into marriage only for her to discover that his sole desire was for an English heir. That was where they had taken creative license with the story, for they could not very well tell the world that Arabella had found herself with child prior to matrimony. That would have been too great a shock even for Mrs. Westchester.
They had told her everything else. How their love had begun as a deception and had become real. How Julian had fought for her although once again they had left out the part where she had overheard him saying he did not really love her, for that was not very romantic at all.
Mrs. Westchester had written up the story in the most colorful terms, and the resulting piece had run in the London Gazette the week before, but Arabella could not stop herself from reading it over and over again.
“You shall wear the ink off the page soon,” Julian said.
“Well, it is fortunate that I bought ten extra copies, then.”
“Only ten?” Clara said. “My mother bought twenty-five. For what purpose, I really do not know.”
“Well,” Arabella said, “youarethe heroine of the tale, after all. You sacrificed your own happiness for a child who was not your own.”
“I do not think marrying me was necessarily sacrificing her happiness,” Julian said, and Clara laughed at the indignant tone of it.
“At the time, I confess, I did not know. I agreed to it, but I truly thought my life was over.”
