His voice lowered. “I only wish you could believe that I love none but you. That I want none but you. Ever since I met you, I knew my life would not be as it was before.”
“Pray, why did you not tell me sooner?” she asked.
He swallowed. “It took me a long time to accept it. To accept that you might want me, too. When Halston came and reminded me of what I had been, how pathetic I was—I didn’t think I was good enough for you. But you showed me that I’m better than a few bad memories. That I can rise above them. That I can be the man my uncle believed I could be.”
“You are,” she said softly. “And I shouldn’t have doubted you. From now on, let’s vow—no matter what—that we will speak to each other first. We will never doubt one another.”
“Never,” he said. “I love you, Evelyn. That will never change.”
“And I love you, Nathaniel,” she whispered.
He leaned forward, cupped her face with both hands, and kissed her. When her lips parted to his and her arms wrapped around his shoulders, Nathaniel knew it with utter certainty.
Nothing—and no one—would ever come between them again.
EPILOGUE
“Are you quite certain you wouldn’t like another piece?” Nathaniel’s mother said as she stood up and reached for the platter in the middle of the table.
Evelyn shook her head. “No, really, I could not. Besides, I am told it will be a rather delicious dinner later, so I should rather wait for that and keep?—”
“Of course,” his mother said. “But you must eat. In your condition, it’s?—”
Evelyn placed one hand on her stomach and looked up. “How do you know?”
She winked at her. “A woman can tell. Does Nathan know?”
“Yes, I told him before we traveled here. Just in case—I was feeling rather ill.”
“Yes, there are a great many tinctures and remedies for that. I will help you, do not fret. I will go to the apothecary later and collect a few things for you. Now, are you quite certain you would not want anything else to eat? What about a cup of tea?”
Suddenly she smiled, but it was a sad smile, because Evelyn was overcome by a longing and ache in her heart she hadn’t felt before.
“What is it, dear?”
“Nothing. It’s just… You are so kind and sweet. You are so… you are everything I could have imagined in a mother. And my mother… It seems the last few weeks I have missed her much more than usual.”
“Well, this is quite normal when one is expecting a child. To know that she is not here with you, but she’s looking down on you and is very proud. I know it. Just as I know that Nathaniel’s father is looking down at him and is just as proud of him and the man he has become, in no small part thanks to you.”
“I have done nothing,” she said.
“Of course you have. Nathaniel has told me that you have encouraged him, that you have given him the strength to build his alliances, to make changes, to strive to be a better man than his uncle was. You have truly been a blessing to him.”
“I hope so,” she said. It was true. Nathaniel truly had grown these last few months. Their alliance in the House of Lords had only grown stronger, and they had been able to pass the law they had sought to protect the poor, climbing boys. In addition, he had introduced several other proposals that were far-reaching. Not all of them would succeed, of course, but even if just a fraction did, it could improve the lives of many. And she could not be prouder of him for that.
She glanced up and spotted the painting hanging above the fireplace. It wasn’t the first time she noticed it. It was the first thing she had noticed when they arrived here three days ago. She had felt very ill that day, both from the journey and her advancing condition, so this was the first time she had a chance to truly observe it.
“It’s not Nathaniel’s father?” she asked.
Marybeth, her mother-in-law, nodded. “Yes, it is. He was a wonderful husband. I have been blessed. I have had not just one, but two wonderful husbands.”
“I cannot say the same,” she said. “I’m afraid I have only had one wonderful husband.”
“Yes, the first one was rather… peculiar, shall we say?”
‘Peculiar’ was a rather generous way to describe Bertram—but she did not want to talk about the man anymore.
“Do you think of him often?” she asked, and Marybeth nodded.
