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“You think that my feelings for her are in actual fact gratefulness? That is ridiculous.”

“I am not saying that you do not love her. I can see that you do, now. But, it does happen. I’ve seen it before.”

“So, she is grateful to me because I saved her life as well. When Dushard was trying to kill her. I bloody well had to sew her back together when that bastard tried to gut her like a fish.”

“Whoa there. I apologize for bringing it up. I admire your passion. She is a lucky woman. I see now that not even a deranged Frenchman is going to keep her from you.”

“Damn you, Ashton.”

The door creaked open. “And here she is now.”

“Oh, lord.”

She was a silhouette in the doorway with the light behind her. Her features came into focus the closer she came. Her honey-silk hair was piled high; her dress was white with gold thread and pearls. Her smile hit him straight in the heart. It was then that any doubts Ashton had put in his head disappeared. The thumping of his heart against his chest was a drumbeat in the background as he watched her walk towards him. He had felt similarly when he had married her in Spain, but now he was even more in love with her. There was no worry about her running off or changing her mind. Of whether he was worthy of her.

“You look beautiful,” he said when she passed her small bouquet to Mrs. Wilcox.

The vows echoed in the empty church as they spoke them. He saw only her, and her eyes shone brightly with tears.

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the minister said.

Tony shook his hand, and Mrs. Wilcox clapped and hugged Elena. It was done. Now they could go and live their lives. They had reserved a table at a restaurant in a hotel, and all four of them enjoyed a lovely lunch before Ashton kissed Elena on the cheek and left to return to his own wife.

When they returned home, they immediately began to pack. How things were about to change for Elena. Would she be able to accept having a maid do her hair and help her dress? Would she be happy to eat a meal every night that she had no part in cooking? Never laundering her own clothes? He had a feeling she might resist at first, but eventually she would get used to being Mrs. Markham. If his tenants were happy for her to tend to them, he had no problem with it. He was excited about seeing his mother and sister again. He hoped they would forgive him for what he had put them through.

“Do you want a penny?”

“A penny?”

“For your thoughts.”

He smiled. “I was just thinking about my mother and sister and how my apparent death would have affected them.”

“They would have mourned you.”

“Yes, and I wish they had not had to go through that pain.”

“I think they will be so happy to see you. To know that you are really alive.”

“I confess, I am a little nervous. I only hope that my message has got to them. I would hate to surprise them. I am not sure my mother’s heart could take it.”

“Imagine how relieved they will be to know that you have given up your spying ways.”

“I am not sure they truly understand what I did. When I cashed in my commission the other day the major tried to talk me out of it. It was kind of him, and he said they wanted to promote me, but I am no longer interested in that kind of life, always looking over my shoulder.”

“Of course, they wanted to keep you,” she said, pressing herself against him. He wrapped his arms around her and suddenly he realized he had done the right thing, not just for himself but for Elena, for his mother and sister. It took falling in love for him to see that his life was going nowhere. He didn’t regret protecting his country; he’d done his duty and then some. The war was over, with Napoleon safely tucked away, but the world was never really at peace. There would always be people plotting and planning to gain power. Now it was time for others to keep those people under surveillance.

“Let’s finish packing. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

“It was so kind of the duke to lend us his carriage.”

“Yes, very kind. It will be far more comfortable than going by yellow bounder.”

“Yellow bounder?”

“A post chaise that you hire for private use. They are more comfortable than going by post which, take my word for it, I would never put you through.”

“I don’t really care how I get there as long as you are there with me.” She threw him his waistcoat.