She appeared vibrant and beautiful and… God, she looked happy.
He loved that she was happy, but it also terrified him. Perhaps she’d already moved on without him. Perhaps he had imagined more between them than there was.
“Hello, Maggie.”
Her eyes were wide and for a moment, Sebastian wondered if she was going to take flight. She didn’t smile, she didn’t cry, she appeared frozen.
But not cold. No, everything about her was golden, warm. He’d set his feet on English soil for the first time in months several hours ago, and yet he hadn’t felt as though he was home until the instant he saw her face.
“Sebastian?” God, how he loved hearing his name on her lips. He had no rights with this woman. They’d ended things when they’d parted. She might hate him.
But she did not.
Encouraged by the welcome in her eyes, he crossed the gazebo in an instant, caught her up against him, and buried his face in her neck and hair. “Maggie.” He spoke her name again. This time, more hoarsely than before.
Her arms wound around his waist, and she melted into him.
The last time he’d held her, he’d thought he could live without her. He’d thought he knew what mattered. He hadn’t felt completely whole since.
Until now.
“I’m sorry, Maggie. You said not to write. But I couldn’t let you go. Will you ever forgive me for being such—”
“Nothing to forgive.” She reached up and clutched at the back of his head, pulling his lips down to hers. He could have wept. All those weeks, he’d spent wondering if he’d lost her, berating himself for being a selfish fool. He would give her everything she wanted. If she wanted a child, he’d be the man to plant his seed in her womb. He’d live with her in London, or Land’s End, or wherever she wanted. He’d take her on sailing excursions, and he’d walk with her by the sea.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped against his mouth. “For sending you away—for asking you not to write. I need you.”
She tasted the same as he remembered, only so much better. He kissed her long and slow before pulling away so he could stare into her eyes.
“You are here. This is real.” She smiled at him and delicate fingers touched the curve of his jaw, stroking his beard. “I can’t believe you are here.” Her fingers explored him at the same time he simply held her, watching her eyes.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I know we intended to end it, but I had to keep you near me. Writing the letters gave me hope.”
“I loved them.” And then she blinked. “You came back early? Why?”
He knew what she was asking.
The morning after he’d read her letter, he’d begun making all the arrangements to return home ahead of schedule. He’d had to move heaven and earth to round up the crew. Damn, but Eddie had not been happy.
“I’m not afraid anymore. Of any of it. I came back for you, just like I said I would.” He drew her to a bench placed in the corner of the shelter where he sat and then lowered her onto his lap.
“I am so happy to see you. I missed you. I missed my friend.” She kept one arm around his neck. He’d taken hold of her other hand and threaded their fingers. Being with her was different but the same.
“I wanted to share everything with you.” He felt a little rueful. He’d acted rather like a lovesick fool and still had no idea if she felt the same.
“You did.” She raised their hands to her lips and kissed the back of his wrist. “I have so much to tell you. I’m working at the foundling home. And taking art lessons and hosting charities.” She studied their hands. “I had so much to learn, Sebastian. I made so many mistakes but I’m not afraid anymore. I want to be with you. If you’ll still have me. I want to love. I want to live.”
Since she’d begged him in that letter to stop writing, his heart had been squeezed with the fear of losing her. In that moment, his heart was set free. It expanded. It took flight.
“Maggie.” He was kissing her again. He wanted to devour her. He’d never have enough of her. But he would do this properly this time. “Marry me?”
“But you don’t want to marry.” She looked delightfully confused. “I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do.”
He slid her off his lap and onto the bench and then lowered himself to one knee. “I don’t need to travel the earth to know what matters in this world, I’ve already done that. I want to be your friend, your lover, and I want to be those things forever. Marry me, Maggie. Travel with me. Live with me. Make babies with me.”
She tilted her head. “You don’t want babies.”
He took one of her hands and cradled it in both of his. “I was afraid,” he admitted, and she nodded. She understood him. “But I can’t avoid life because I’m afraid of tragedy. Tragedy lurks around every corner for all of us. Death is not something we can avoid. But until that happens, let’s live, Maggie. Let’s love. Will you be brave with me? Can you love me? Will you marry me?”
“Yes, to everything. Yes. Let’s be brave together. Yes, I will marry you. And yes. I love you. I love the man I climbed in bed with, I love the man I swam with, I love the man who has shown me more pleasure than I ever knew was possible. But more recently, I’ve fallen in love again. With the man who wrote me all those letters. Of course, I’ll marry you, Sebastian Wright.”
“And you’ll sail with me?”
She nodded. “Let’s fly, Sebastian. Let’s fly.”
31
What Happens on the Ship…
London, September 13th, 1829
Sebastian stood on the dock and rocked back on his heels. He’d wanted to collect Maggie from her townhouse himself, but she’d insisted on meeting him here. He felt as though he’d been waiting forever for this day. He stared at the water and his heart swelled. The Thames could hardly be more inviting on this warm September afternoon.
Sebastian had considered obtaining a special license shortly after she’d accepted his proposal so that they could marry without delay. God knew he wanted nothing more. But he also wanted to watch his bride, Maggie, walk down the aisle, willing to give herself to him freely in the sight of God, witnessed by all their friends and family.
He’d not realized what a sentimental fool he could be until then.
Initially, they’d dismissed the idea of a small ceremony at the chapel at Land’s End due to Lady Danbury’s delicate condition. Danbury’s countess was expecting in late summer, and Sebastian and Margaret had decided a wedding would be too great of a burden.
Lady Danbury, however, begged to differ and asserted that she had more than enough assistance, what with nurses and staff. Of course, she insisted they make the journey so that Margaret’s brother could give her away.
Even by post, Lady Danbury was difficult to disagree with.
They would marry at Margaret’s brother’s estate on Oct. 22nd.
Sebastian had suggested the date to her tentatively and then explained that he wanted her to know a happy beginning at the end of her sad week of anniversaries.
She’d stared at him wordlessly for a moment, and he’d thought he’d made a mistake. Those whiskey-colored eyes of hers had even welled up with tears.
“We don’t have to—” he’d begun, but then she’d blinked and nodded.
“No. It’s perfect.” She’d walked into his arms.
She’d sent word to her brother and sister-in-law, who had gone right to work planning another house party, and they’d begun making plans for their journey. The party would be a smaller one this time and would mostly consist of just his and her close friends and family.
For what remained of the summer, hardly a day passed that he was not squiring her about all of London or visiting her at her Mayfair townhouse. He’d loved the woman he met last autumn; he’d die for the woman she was now.
Although still very much the lady, she had blossomed in ways he never could have imagined.
They’d gone up together along with Lord and Lady Darlington, in on
e of Lady Montfort’s hot air balloons. The ladies had oohed and ahhed and laughed and, for days afterward, Maggie had done her best to create the perfect painting of their bird’s-eye view.
She had also taken him around the foundling houses where she was welcomed with smiles by children and staff alike. Together they worked on the wording and contents of new legislation that his father considered backing.
The two of them never lacked conversation but could enjoy quiet times as well.
But the nights. Those ended up not being as idyllic as everything else. Although he’d visited her late on the first night of his return—keeping his hands off her had not been an option—he’d had the damn fool idea of protecting her reputation for the duration of their engagement, of promising to remain celibate until after their wedding.
Before suffering for even three nights, the longing he experienced revealed exactly how asinine of an idea that had been. And so instead of sitting up longing for her each night, he’d written to her.
My lonely, lonely bed, July 30th, 1829
Maggie,
I’m waging the war again and losing the battle tremendously. You are so close and yet so damn far. Release me from my promise. Let me come to you.
Let me climb into your bed like a thief in the night. You’ll know my touch as I draw back the covers to reveal your naked skin. My hand craves the feel of your skin, it craves the power of bringing you to completion, seeking and entering past your warm, wet folds.
My lips crave your mouth, your breasts, your thighs… all of you.
Let me come to you. Let me bury myself inside of you. I love you, Maggie, now and forever.
Your most passionately devoted future husband,
Sebastian
Waiting for her now, Sebastian smiled to think he’d likely sent her over twenty or so such missives. And always, on the next day, when he collected her to visit some museum or office or one of her other charities or foundling houses, she met him with a secret smile.
He pulled her most recent letter from his jacket.
My equally lonely bed, August 29th, 1829,
To my future husband,
Battles are fought on many fronts, my love. As I lay reading your last letter, I imagine my hand as yours. I close my eyes and imagine your weight pushing me into the mattress, my legs wrapped around your waist.
I pretend you are here, your mouth tasting me everywhere. Ah, my love, I blush at my wayward thoughts.
Soon, husband, soon.
Yours Forever,
Maggie
He couldn’t wait. This waiting was killing him. And yet the wedding was still nearly two months away.
Adjusting his trousers in order to accommodate his very inconvenient response to her writings, he glanced over when he heard a carriage approach. He didn’t even wait for it to come to a complete stop before he was opening the door. She apparently couldn’t wait either and flung herself into his arms.
“Are you ready?” He could hardly believe that this day had finally arrived. He would be certain to appreciate such joy. They would have difficult times. They would face sadness sometimes, and possibly loss. But he would appreciate even those, as long as he had her at his side.
“I’m so excited! I was dying to leave, and Esther was concerned with braiding my hair.”
Sebastian stared down at this amazing woman. “You are worth the wait, Maggie. You are worth any wait.”
But the time had finally come. “Are you ready to meet The Diana?” He gestured along the newly constructed dock to where his other passion awaited them.
He’d wanted her first time onboard to be special. And so it was. Today, they would sail down the Thames and then west toward the opposite end of England. They would sail to their wedding venue rather than drive.
All of their trunks had already been loaded, and so he took her hand and led her carefully up the plank to board. Her eyes shined in excitement as he introduced her to the captain and then she greeted every crew member who had lined up.
This was only the beginning of their journey, of their life together. After they married, they had plans to sail across the Atlantic again. She’d insisted they finish his exploring together. And then after they’d sailed all along the Eastern seaboard, they would return to England and continue their lifelong journey of living, loving, laughing.
The anchor was pulled in, ropes were untied, and the two of them watched as the city became smaller and smaller and then impossible to see.
They stood on deck together quietly, her watching the horizon, him watching her, until she finally turned and met his eyes.
“You know,” she grinned and then feigned a yawn, “I’m awfully tired. Is it possible that you might show me to my bed?”
Sebastian swallowed. “But I promised you—”
She took hold of his hands. “I’m releasing you from your promise as long as we’re at sea.” She backed toward the stairs that would take them below. “I have this fantasy...”
“Indeed?” He allowed her to pull him along.
“Oh, indeed. There was this great sea warrior… and this mermaid…”
Sebastian kicked open his cabin door and closed and locked it behind them. Already, he knew, this journey was never going to be boring.
Epilogue
Fey Abbey, East Essex, near the coast, Oct. 12th, 1834
“Will you read it again tomorrow, Mama?”
Maggie chuckled at her eldest son Charlie’s request.
“Yes, Mama! I like the part about the bears.” Geoffrey removed his thumb from his mouth to second his older brother’s plea.
“Don’t you want me to read you something else?” Although she could hardly blame them.
Sebastian had set himself to writing and illustrating the book the very week she’d informed him that they were expecting. He’d written it based on the journey he and Margaret had taken shortly after their wedding. Traveling had been incredible, enlightening, and marvelous, but at times harrowing and had lasted nearly a year. Both of them had been quite happy to return to England and settle down at Fey Abbey. Although the estate belonged to his father, the duke and duchess spent most of their time in London, and Standish had shifted nearly all of the management decisions to Sebastian and Andrew.
The duchess had given over household decisions to Margaret, thrilled that her son and daughter-in-law had finally returned to the country and presumed to remain there indefinitely.
The duchess had come to love Margaret even more as the years passed because she absolutely adored her two strapping grandsons.
“Aren’t you boys asleep yet?” Sebastian leaned against the doorframe of their sons’ room, arms crossed in mock disapproval.
“Will you, Mama?” Charles, the spitting image of his grandfather and namesake, made one last plea.
Margaret drew the covers up to his chin and leaned over him. Nearly five, he acted terribly grown-up. He wouldn’t be her baby for long. “Of course. But first, you must sleep.”
She walked around to Geoffrey’s bed and did the same, loving the downy softness of his baby-fine hair. A little over two, he absolutely worshiped his older brother. “Sweet dreams, my love.”
After kissing both of their sons goodnight as well, Sebastian closed the door behind him quietly and led Margaret toward their chamber, as had become their custom.
Margaret loved the feel of him beside her. She’d never have enough of him. He and her sons had become the most cherished people in her world. She never could have imagined that she could be so happy.
The occasional arguments and challenges that came their way made her all the happier. Happier because they managed to weather each one and, in the end, emerge stronger, closer. Their intimacy was more than physical. She smiled to herself. It was spiritual. This love. All of them.
Sebastian closed the door behind her and then came up behind her to assist her out of her dressing gown.
Margaret still kept Esther on but had become far more independent since their
marriage. She’d discovered that her maid had a great talent for organization and planning and thusly promoted her to housemaid manager. She and Sebastian kept a houseful of employees, not servants.
“You said you had news for me.” He spoke near her ear, the heat of his breath making her consider putting off the discussion she’d planned.
Oh, but she could not.
And then his hand lowered to her belly. He knew. Of course, he knows.
“I was waiting for you to tell me.” His voice sounded gravelly. He only did that when something moved him deeply.
Margaret blinked and turned around so that she was in his arms. Comfortable, strong, familiar, and yet also exciting. All of these things. He kissed her lips and warmth spread to her thighs and core. Ah, and always the passion.
“You might want to buy more of those French Letters,” she suggested against his lips. “After this one.”
Sebastian pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “You are unhappy about it?”
She shook her head. “I’m not. I’m so happy.” She blinked away tears.
And he smiled. Oh, how she loved his face. It was difficult to remember that she’d ever imagined him to be too young for her. What a foolish impression! She’d learned that he was so much more than any other man she’d ever known. He was loving, tender, brave, and always honorable. He was also hard-working, fair-minded, and steady.
And he knew her better than anyone else in the world.
“You are always this way during the first weeks.” His smile grew even more. “And you are also always sensitive in other ways.”
He closed his eyes and dropped his mouth to the curve of her shoulder.
“You are happy?” She had to reassure herself though. Because, although she tended to be emotional while carrying, she also just needed to know.
Lady and the Rake Page 27
