Page 70 of A Taste of Miss Honey

Ben laughed and Lord Stonehaven, whom Ben had taken a liking to at once, snorted with amusement at this information.

“Whether she likes it or not?” Stonehaven suggested dryly.

Hartwell grinned, looking far more disreputable than Ben ever had as Boreas. “What’s not to like?” he demanded, waggling his eyebrows in a villainous manner.

Shaking his head, Ben endured the rest of the celebration stoically, even if he was becoming increasingly impatient to have his bride to himself. But it was her day, her chance to celebrate with her sisters and her father, though she had kept the affair a small one, much to his relief. The town still considered him a somewhat scandalous figure despite his elevation to heroic status, and he was looking forward to taking Izzy away, where there were no prying eyes and gossipy neighbours to chatter about them. They’d face that when they returned, but hopefully by then some other poor fellow would be the focus of the town’s interest.

Finally, it was time to leave, and Izzy struggled to say goodbye to her father.

“Goodbye, Papa,” Izzy said, her voice wobbling with emotion. The reverend embraced her, his own eyes shining with tears while his face glowed with happiness.

“Now, now, no tears, child. We’ll wave you off when you leave on your honeymoon, and when you come home again, you’ll be back to stay. Don’t you worry about me. Clemmie and Bea are staying for a few days to keep me company, and I’ve Caspar and Daisy, and Mrs Mabbs, and Mrs Adie and Polly. How could I possibly be lonely?”

Still, Izzy sniffled as she took Ben’s hand, and the two of them walked to the carriage that would take them the short distance to The Mermaid. They would spend the night there before they left the following day. Off on their adventures, as Izzy liked to put it.

Ben handed her up and climbed in beside her, watching indulgently as she immediately pushed down the window glass, leaning out like the hoyden she clearly was and waving to her family, calling goodbye and God bless as they waved and cheered in return. Ben let her be until the carriage turned the corner out of sight and swayed dramatically. She gave a little shriek as she lost her balance, and he caught her, hauling her into his lap before she fell on her backside.

“Alone at last, Miss Honey,” he murmured, doing his best to look like a wicked smuggler with nefarious intentions upon her person.

As ever, she just laughed, quite unconcerned. “That’s Mrs Midwinter to you, sir, and I warn you now, if you are thinking of taking liberties, you had best know that my husband is a dangerous man who will avenge my honour.”

“Will he, indeed?” Ben tried to look sceptical but could not keep it up as she slid her hands about his neck, watching him with an expression that stole his breath.

“I think I have loved you from the first moment I met you,” she told him, touching his cheek reverently. “Looking so handsome, and so very dangerous too. What was a poor girl to do but fall head over ears in love? Though, to be fair, it may have been merely lust to begin with. It’s hard to be certain.”

Ben gazed down at her, at this little slip of a girl whom the entire world, and most of all himself, had been determined to underestimate. Only Izzy had been brave enough to come after him when the Revenue were hunting him down. Only she had possessed the courage to rescue him, to fight for his life when he was so dangerously ill, and again when Alveston was such a threat. He felt sure he did not deserve her, but he would. No more would he skulk in the shadows. With such a woman by his side he could not only rebuild the castle and restore the family name, he could do anything. Certainly, he could build a life for both of them, and a place where they could live together, with no secrets between them, no masks or hidden identities. It was daunting, but he could not wait for what was likely to be the most thrilling escapade he’d ever set out on.

“I may have been the smuggler, pet, but you’re the one who stole inside my heart and found your place there, and lust may have played a part in that too. Do you mind?”

She snorted, pulling his head down for a kiss. “Not even a little,” she assured him, brushing her lips against his, setting fire to his blood as desire sparked to life in an instant. “Do you?”

Ben laughed and was only too happy to prove that he did not mind, not in the least.

Epilogue

Divine Timing.

The Vicarage, Little Valentine, East Sussex, 24th April 1816

The Reverend Bertram Honeywell sat before the fire in his cosy parlour and smiled as he reread the letter Izzy had sent him. That it was the tenth time he’d done so hardly mattered. Her happiness shone from every word. He smiled to himself, folding up the letter and putting it carefully to one side. Lifting the glass of very fine brandy he had poured himself, he stared into the fire and told himself not to be so dreadfully ungrateful. The good Lord had seen fit to bless all his daughters with marriages as happy and blessed as his own had been to his darling Mary. He had a fine house, as well as the honour and delight of being a doting uncle and foster parent to Caspar and Daisy. There was not the slightest reason for him to feel in the least down at heart, and yet… and yet. He sighed. The house just did not feel right without his lovely daughters’ laughter, their light footsteps running up and down the stairs, and their affectionate bickering.

One by one they had flown the nest, just as they ought, and he felt nothing but pride in them, but the nest felt decidedly empty, and he felt older suddenly, in a way he never had when they were here.

“Forgive me, Lord,” he said ruefully. “I am an ungrateful devil when you have given me so many blessings. I pray you will forgive me. I shall be better presently, I promise. Perhaps you would send me a new challenge, something to keep me busy in the meantime? I’d appreciate it if you’re of a mind to indulge me.”

So saying, he lifted the glass in a silent salute and sipped his brandy.

A knock at the front door interrupted his musings, but the reverend ignored it. Everyone knew not to disturb him this evening, for he was in no mood for visitors and had made that clear. Unless, of course, someone needed him, which was a different thing.

He glanced at the window. The curtains had not yet been closed. The days were growing longer, though the weather remained resolutely grim and cold, no doubt not helping his mood. It was far easier to feel light-hearted when the sun shone upon the world.

The sound of Mrs Adie’s voice raised in agitation reached his ear and he got to his feet just as she burst into the room.

“I beg your pardon, Reverend. I don’t know what things are coming to when young girls go about the place by themselves, calling on strangers at such an hour without a by your leave, but they won’t go until they’ve spoken to you, nor will they give me their names. If I know anything, they’re in a pickle of some sort, and like to bring a scandal down upon our heads, mark my words.”

The reverend blinked at her, gazing at his glass of brandy with an absent smile. Well, well, that was quick work, and no mistake. Smiling to himself, he set the glass down, silently sending his profound thanks to the almighty.

“Thank you, Mrs Adie. Let me see what our young arrivals want with me.”