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“But he’s a viscount.”
“Now he is,” Ethan answered, squeezing her tighter. “How old is he? Thirty-five? That’s a lot of years between becoming a man and taking over the title.”
“I’m not surprised that your uncle is the one that’s been chasing our villain since the beginning. We all know your sister, Emma. She’s got spunk. And now Natalie”—Abby gave her a wink—“was the one protecting us in the butler’s pantry.”
Ethan leaned down to give her forehead a kiss. “That’s my lioness.”
The women all laughed at the word. Gris eased his grip on Violet as he glanced up at the ceiling in the entry. “Let’s assess the damage to the house, shall we? I hope Northville catches Gyla. The house can’t take another attack.”
As the sun rose, the women began picking up debris while the men, aided by soldiers, cleared out the bodies.
It was nearly two hours later when her uncle returned. She was removing shards of wood by the back door when he entered the kitchen.
He looked more tired than she’d ever seen him but as he approached, he gave her a rare smile. “You’re all right.”
“Fine,” she answered, smiling back. “You?”
“He got away,” His shoulders slumped as Natalie reached out a hand. “I was so close, but he climbed onto a skiff and boarded a ship.”
“He’s leaving England?”
“For now.” Her uncle raked a hand through his hair. “But he could come back at any time.”
“If only you knew someone with a ready ship and a tough crew of sailors to chase him down…” She pointed to the ceiling where above men called to one another.
Her uncle’s brows lifted, his face lightened considerably. “Interesting plan.”
“Fulton is constructing a temporary front door, I believe, if you’d like to discuss the possibility with him.”
Her uncle reached out then, cupping her cheek. They’d not been close when she was younger, he only rarely came to visit but he’d been kind when his brother had passed. “Look at you,” he murmured. “Growing into a fine young woman.”
He dropped his hand and she blushed at the compliment. “Thank you for agreeing to the match with Ethan.”
He gave a nod. “He gives you any trouble, come to me. I’ll straighten him out.”
She appreciated the offer, but her heart had settled in as she answered with honesty, “He won’t. But thank you.”
That’s when a throat cleared behind them. She turned to see Ethan standing in the kitchen doorway.
Her heart swelled to see him. Despite the smudge of black on his cheek and his rumpled clothing, he was still the most handsome man in the world, and he was all hers.
A fortnight later…
Ethan stood in the entry of Northville’s town house waiting for his fiancée. Next to him, her mother also waited, her plumes of peacock feathers perfectly arranged on her skirts and headdress.
The viscountess had been cool since Northville had hastily informed his sister-in-law that he’d given Ethan permission to marry Natalie, right before he’d boarded Fulton’s ship and left the country.
Ethan didn’t care. She’d warm up when she saw the dowager house that she would call home. It was lovely and large. His father had built it for his own mother-in-law, and he’d placed it discreetly and wisely on the other side of the massive five-hundred-acre forest of Ethan’s ancestral seat.
Besides, he couldn’t even think about the other woman as anticipation filled him. He was desperate to know what Natalie had chosen to wear as her costume for the masquerade.
He held his breath, standing still, when a movement at the top of the stairs caught his notice.
And then she’d appeared.
He’d pictured her as a fairy. Or perhaps a goddess, or even a lioness with fur about her hips and shoulders and that mane of red hair curled out and proudly displayed.
But as she appeared, his breath caught, anticipation giving way to pure raw desire and appreciation.
