He grinned at her and then he left.
“He did look happy, didn’t he, Poppy?”
Poppy yawned—which in this case Jane would take for agreement—and then headed upstairs.
“I suppose it is time for bed,” Jane said, following behind. She wished her companion was Alex, but in less than a week, she’d be married. Which raised another question.
“What’s going to become of you and the Spinster House, Poppy? I don’t think any new Spinster House candidates have come to Loves Bridge since the lottery last year.”
Poppy paused to look back at her and give her an inscrutable smile before running up the rest of the steps.
Epilogue
Loves Bridge, a week later
“What a difference a year makes,” Alex said. He was standing with Marcus and Nate on the edge of the village green, enjoying a few moments of calm while the party celebrating his marriage and the christening of Marcus’s son went on nearby.
The entire village was there laughing and talking and toasting, well, everything. And it wasn’t just the village. His mother and John Grant had come, along with Diana and Roger and their brood. Rachel and some of the other girls were playing with the Hutting children. Caroline, Diana’s fourteen-year-old, might even be flirting a bit with the vicar’s sons.
Marcus’s mother, Mrs. Cullen, and her second husband had traveled all the way from Ireland—they were speaking to Emmett at the moment—and even the Duke and Duchess of Benton and their son were in attendance.
“Yes.” Marcus tugged his cravat out of William’s grasping fingers. “This time last year I was still under the bloody curse and now?” He laughed as the baby managed to get a handful of the white cloth in his mouth. “My linen will never be the same.”
“At least you’re not sporting baby spit-up,” Nate said, his son asleep on his shoulder, a wet patch of drool and, yes, baby curds decorating his coat.
Marcus grinned. “Not yet, but I likely will be after William’s next feeding.” He looked at Alex. “Are you certain you wish to follow us into fatherhood?”
“Yes.” With luck and hard work—he grew hard at the thought of the, er, work involved—he and Jane would have a son or daughter next May.
Alex’s eyes found Jane again, not that they’d ever strayed very far from her. She was laughing, talking to Cat and Anne. She looked as happy as he felt—and he felt very, very happy.
“Are you still determined to take your bride back to Evans Hall tonight?” Marcus asked. “You’re more than welcome to stay over at the castle, you know.”
“Yes, Alex,” Nate said. “Do stay. Anne and I will be there. It’s been too long since we’ve had a chance to sit and share a glass of brandy.”
Clearly, fatherhood had muddled his friends’ thinking.
“Much as I enjoy your company, I do not intend to spend my wedding night drinking brandy—or anything else—with you two.”
Marcus laughed. “Oh, right. I suppose you have other plans.”
“Yes.” Many very detailed, very carnal other plans. He consulted his watch. How soon could he and Jane politely be on their way?
“You should probably wait another hour,” Marcus said, laughing, “if you don’t want people’s thoughts going immediately to what you’ll be”—he grinned—“up to tonight.”
Nate snorted, causing his son to startle. “From the look in Alex’s eyes, I don’t believe he’s waiting for nightfall.”
It was time to change the subject.
“What are you going to do about the Spinster House now that the curse is broken and all the interested Loves Bridge spinsters have been turned into wives, Marcus?” Alex asked.
Marcus frowned. “I’m not sure. I suppose I should ask Randolph—or Jane.”
“Ask Jane what?” Jane said, coming up with Cat and Anne.
“What is to become of the Spinster House now that the last spinster is married?”
“Ah. I actually spent some time this week”—Jane smiled at Alex and put her hand on his arm—“while Alex was away, rereading the documents. All I could find was a paragraph indicating the house should go to Isabelle’s direct descendants. But since Isabelle had no direct descendants, that’s not very helpful.”
Marcus frowned. “True.”
“I’m actually more concerned about Poppy,” Jane said.
“Poppy?” Marcus laughed. “Somehow I think Poppy will land on her feet.”
“Apparently so.” Alex gestured down the green. Poppy was approaching with a tall, thin man whose thatch of thick hair was almost the same shade as the reddish-orange of Poppy’s fur.
The newcomer bowed when he reached them. “Guid day.” The man spoke with a definite Scottish burr. “My apologies for arriving in the middle of a celebration.” He smiled, glancing between Alex and Marcus. “I’m Angus MacLeod in search of the Duke of Hart. I was told he was holding his son, but I see there are two gentlemen with bairns in their arms.”
“I’m the duke,” Marcus said, before introducing Alex and the others.
MacLeod’s smile widened. “Ah, Your Grace, I’ve heard so much about ye, it’s guid to finally meet ye.” He laughed. “Not that I believed most of my granny’s tales about my noble—and cursed—cousin.”
“Cousin?” Marcus asked, clearly bewildered.
“Aye. That’s how my granny, at least, thought of ye.”
“Oh?” Marcus’s brows rose before he introduced the man to everyone else and then asked. “And what have you heard about me, Mr. MacLeod?”
“Weel, I’ve an ancestor from here, ye ken.” MacLeod shrugged. “I’ve meant to stop by many a time on my way home to Edinburgh, but when I heard in Town that your son was born, Your Grace—” He grinned. “I niver really believed the tale my granny told about the duke’s curse, but I was that glad to hear it wasna true.”
Alex looked at Jane. Surely MacLeod’s relative couldn’t be . . .
Jane didn’t hesitate. “What is your ancestor’s name, if you don’t mind me asking, Mr. MacLeod?”
“Isabelle Dorring.” MacLeod stooped to pet Poppy, who’d been rubbing against his ankles during the conversation, so he didn’t see all their jaws drop. “Ye’re a wee bonnie lass, aren’t ye,” MacLeod told Poppy as he scratched her chin. Poppy bumped against his hand in feline bliss. “What might your name be?”
Alex wouldn’t have been surprised if Poppy herself had answered.
“Poppy,” Jane said. It came out as a bit of a croak. “Mr. MacLeod, the story here is that Isabelle Dorring drowned herself and her unborn baby in Loves Water.”
MacLeod laughed and straightened. “Oh, she dinna drown herself, o’ course. A tinker found her at the edge o’ the water and persuaded her to throw her lot in with his. They wed and he adopted her bairn, making him a MacLeod. When they had no bairns between them, Isabelle’s child took over the business. Turned out he was better at making a living”—he grinned again—“and making bairns than his step-da.”
“I see.” Marcus frowned. “But if Isabelle didn’t drown herself . . .”
Cat put her hand on Marcus’s arm. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“But Mr. MacLeod’s arrival is quite fortuitous,” Jane said, enthusiastically. “He can take ownership of the Spinster House.”
MacLeod looked a bit alarmed. “Spinster House? As in a house full of spinsters?” He laughed, though the sound had a definite nervous edge to it. “I’ve not had the courage to take on even one spinster, Lady Evans. I’m a bachelor—a happy bachelor.”
Jane shook her head. “It’s just a house, Mr. MacLeod, empty now, which is why it’s yours. If you’ll just come—”
Alex grabbed her arm. “Randolph can handle that, Jane. It’s his problem now, remember?”
“Oh. Right.”
“Lady Evans’s brother is the village solicitor,” Marcus told MacLeod. “Lady Evans has been his assistant for many years, but she just married Lord Evans this morning and is on the verge of departing.”
> MacLeod bowed again. “My felicitations.”
“Thank you.” Jane was clearly back in work mode. “I reviewed the documents this week, Mr. MacLeod, and it’s my understanding that when there are no more Loves Bridge spinsters seeking to live in the Spinster House, the house is to go to Isabelle’s descendants. I was the last spinster. It’s quite remarkable that you should appear now.”
“Remarkable?” MacLeod looked rather bemused. “Aye. A wee bit odd, isn’t it?”
“Merrow.” Poppy butted against MacLeod’s leg.
“Poppy seems to come with the house,” Jane said.
MacLeod’s brows rose again. “Does she now?”
“And she seems to have taken a liking to you,” Anne added.
Cat nodded. “And she doesn’t usually like men.”
MacLeod looked rather alarmed.
“Come, I’ll introduce you to Randolph,” Marcus said. “We can discuss the Spinster House with him.”
Marcus and Cat moved off with MacLeod, Poppy at his heels.
Alex took another look at his watch. “I believe it’s time for us to leave, Jane.”
“Oh, can’t you stay a little longer?” Anne asked.
Nate grinned knowingly at Alex.
“Well . . .” Jane began.
“No, we cannot.” Alex had waited long enough. He was eager to begin the journey back to Evans Hall. More to the point, he was eager to shut the coach door and have Jane to himself. “We need to leave now to reach Evans Hall in good time.” He stroked Jane’s palm with his thumb when she opened her mouth to protest.
“Ah. Er, yes. Of course.” She smiled at Anne. “We’ll see you soon. We’ll come to visit the baby.”
“You’d better.”
“We have to say good-bye to Randolph and Imogen and your family,” Jane said as they walked away.
Oh, Lord, she was right. “But no long conversations, if you please.”
“Why are you in such a hurry?”
He bent his head so he could whisper the words. “Because I haven’t made love to you in a week. I am dying to strip you naked and come into your hot, wet body in one quick stroke and hear you scream my name.”
“Oh.”
He watched her beautiful neck as she swallowed and her eyes grew a bit needy.
“And then I’m going to love you again, but slowly until you beg me to finish.”
Her tongue peeked out to moisten her lips. Her bodice rose and fell faster. And then her chin went up. “And I’m going to love you until you beg me to let you in.”
He grinned. Zeus, he loved his prickly, passionate, independent countess.
“I look forward to it. So . . . shall we say good-bye to our families now?”
Jane nodded.
It was likely the fastest leave-taking on record.
And then he and the last Spinster House spinster left Loves Bridge to begin their lifelong adventure together.
Love the Spinster House stories?
Don’t miss the rest of the series:
WHAT TO DO WITH A DUKE
HOW TO MANAGE A MARQUESS
and the novella
IN THE SPINSTER’S BED
Available now
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About the Author
A native of Washington, DC, Sally MacKenzie still lives in suburban Maryland with her transplanted upstate New Yorker husband. She’s written federal regulations, school newsletters, auction programs, class plays, and swim-league guidance, but it wasn’t until the first of her four sons headed off to college that she tried her hand at romance. She can be reached by e-mail at [email protected] or by snail mail at PO Box 10466, Rockville, MD 20849.
Please visit her home in cyberspace
at www.sallymackenzie.net.
IN THE SPINSTER’S BED
At Spinster House, a woman can enjoy the
spoils of single life—or find the love of a lifetime . . .
It has been twenty years since Lord William Wattles laid eyes on Annabelle Frost. Still, he remembers everything—her ethereal beauty, her bookish intelligence, her surprisingly modern attitudes about love . . . and lust. But Belle’s allegedly wanton behavior led her father to send her away to save the family’s reputation. Now she resides at Spinster House in the village of Loves Bridge, where an unmarried lady can live—and in Belle’s case, support herself as a librarian—in peace . . .
Beautiful, passionate Belle—sworn off marriage? William can’t believe the woman he once knew could end up like this. But when the hands of fate bring him to Loves Bridge, his long-lost love might just end up back in his arms. Is their unwavering desire worth the sweeping scandal that is sure to follow them both? Absolutely.
WHAT TO DO WITH A DUKE
Welcome to the charming, fatefully named village of Loves Bridge, where a woman destined for spinsterhood can live a life of her own choosing—or fall unexpectedly, madly in love . . .
Miss Isabelle Catherine Hutting would rather be lounging in the library than circling the ballroom in search of a husband any day. So when Cat hears that the town’s infamous Spinster House is open for a new resident, she jumps at the chance to put all this marriage business behind her. But first she must make arrangements with her prospective landlord, Marcus, the Duke of Hart—the most handsome man she’s ever seen, and the only man who’s ever impressed her in the least . . .
With her wit, independent spirit, and not least of all her beauty, Marcus can’t help but be stirred by Cat. It’s terribly unfortunate he’s not looking to marry, given the centuries-old curse that left his family with the Spinster House to begin with. No duke shall live to see his heir’s birth. But is there a chance the curse could be broken—in true fairy-tale fashion—by an act of true love? The race to Happily Ever After is about to begin . . .
HOW TO MANAGE A MARQUESS
In USA Today bestselling author
Sally MacKenzie’s charming Spinster House series,
love is always a welcome guest ...
Two possible futures loom before Miss Anne Davenport. The first option: sharing an unhappy home with her father and soon-to-be stepmother. The second: a life of independence at the Spinster House—if only her friend, Cat, would vacate the premises and marry the Duke of Hart. A well-placed whisper about the pair’s secret tryst might speed the course of true love. But the duke’s stubborn cousin poses an obstacle. A ridiculously handsome, very persuasive obstacle . . .
Nate, Marquess of Haywood, has spent his life looking out for the duke, hoping to stave off a family curse. The only way to keep his cousin alive is to keep him single. That means convincing the intriguing Miss Davenport that her lovely lips could be put to far better use than gossiping. Kissing, for instance. In fact, Nate is beginning to hope that Miss Davenport’s destiny lies not in the Spinster House at all, but with him . . .
When to Engage an Earl Page 27
