His smile was wide, showing his teeth in the moonlight. “Perfect. I believe Father Winstead is in attendance.”
“What?” Isabella felt dizzy.
Griffith looked down at her, that annoying and endearing eyebrow lifted into the edges of the hair that had been disheveled by the breeze. “We’re getting married. You agreed.”
“But it’s eight o’clock at night,” Isabella sputtered. “On Thursday.”
He shrugged. “I obtained a special license.” He leaned in until his nose was even with hers. His grin returned, and the happy excitement in his eyes was infectious. “Now, are you going to marry me or not?”
Epilogue
Griffith watched Isabella stroll through the manicured gardens of Regent’s Park, marveling at the orderly flower beds and the bright colors. The summer heat had taken a significant toll on the gardens, and most of the plants had lost their luster. He’d have to bring her back next spring.
“Please tell me you didn’t buy a house on Regent’s Square just so we could have access to this garden.”
Griffith shrugged. “It was the only garden in London you hadn’t tramped through yet.”
She gasped, her head flying around until she was staring him down, mouth dropped open in an exaggerated gasp of indignation. “I do not tramp.”
He laughed as he scooped her up in his arms, causing her to squeal before falling into giggles. As he set her down, he couldn’t help the smile that split his face until his cheeks hurt. He’d been smiling a lot lately.
Nearly every time he looked at his wife, in fact.
His wife. They’d been married for a week and he still said the phrase over and over in his head. As if he couldn’t quite believe it. But every morning she was there, smiling and teasing him at the breakfast table, awing him once more with her incredible beauty and her generous heart.
He’d come so close to losing her, to having never found her in the first place. And now he couldn’t imagine his life without her.
“I did not buy another house,” he admitted, sliding her hand into the crook of his elbow as he led her deeper into the park. “I’m a duke. I merely asked permission.”
“From whom?” she asked, looking around at the fashionable houses that bordered the gardens, claiming the grounds for their personal use.
Griffith considered throwing out a nonchalant reference to asking Prinny for permission, mostly to see the adorable glare she got when he was being presumptuous and arrogant, but they’d promised on their wedding night never to lie to each other again. “I’ve an old school friend who lives in that house over there.” He pointed to the east. “We’re his personal guests.”
She bit her lip. “Will he let us come back? I’d love to see this in the spring.”
“Sure you don’t want me to buy a house so you can see it whenever you’d like?”
With a laugh, she ducked her head and burrowed it into his arm, her bonnet scraping against his shoulder.
They walked farther into the park lands, enjoying the sun and the breeze. He had work waiting for him at home, and soon he’d have to admit that he couldn’t spend every day strolling through parks and gardens with his wife on his arm, but there was balance in his life now. Balance he hadn’t even realized he needed.
He pulled Isabella to a stop and looked down into her face. “I don’t believe I ever thanked you.”
“For what?” A small crease appeared between her eyebrows. He smoothed it away with his finger.
What could he tell her? That he was thankful she’d shown him that the heart was as important as the mind? For teaching him how to laugh at himself? For removing the constraints he hadn’t even realized he’d put on himself?
“For being you” he finally settled on. “I have a surprise for you.”
She laughed. “Another one? I’m not sure I can take much more.”
“You’ll like it. One of my traveling coaches should be arriving in Northumberland today.”
He watched her closely, saw the exact moment she realized what he’d said.
Her mouth dropped open, her eyes glistened. “You did?”
Griffith nodded, feeling a bit choked with emotion himself. “I even sent men to watch over the farm. If everything goes smoothly, they’ll meet us in Hertfordshire within a week or so. And I’ve already arranged for Hugh to start school at Harrow in the fall.”
She sobbed through her smile, drawing a laugh from him at the mix of emotions she wore so well.
“Griffith, it’s too much.”
“No, it isn’t. I love you. Whatever matters to you, matters to me.” He pulled her tightly to him. “And I take care of what matters to me.” He grinned and lifted his eyebrow in as haughty a look as he could manage, given how happy he was at the moment. “Haven’t you heard? I’m a duke.”
Then he leaned down and settled his lips against hers. His heart pounded and his fingers tightened their grip in instinct before he tilted his head to change the kiss in a way he knew she loved. Her sigh brushed his lips as she wrapped her arms around his waist.
And he was home.
Author’s Note
One of the interesting things about writing historical fiction is choosing how to fit your fictional story in with what really happened. Quite a bit of history was used in An Inconvenient Beauty, though literary license was taken.
The prank with the bat guano that the boys pulled in the prologue is actually inspired by a prank pulled at Oxford in 1790. William Buckland did use bat guano to spell out a word on the field, and it was a very long time before that word disappeared. At the time, however, guano wasn’t widely used as a fertilizer in England, so Buckland was also introducing a bit of science into his prank.
While the Apothecary Act was a real bill and the timeline of its journey to law was similar to the way it was portrayed in the book, the motivations behind the people involved are entirely fictional. The timing of Napoleon’s return to Paris and the battle at Waterloo are also accurate.
The French Eagle that Arthur Saunderson is given credit for retrieving was retrieved by the 1st Royal Dragoon during the battle at Waterloo. Captain Alexander Clark led his cavalry troops charging through, though there is some dispute over whether or not he was the one to actually snag the golden eagle. The hero’s welcome Arthur is predicted to receive was actually granted to Corporal F. Stiles who returned the eagle to the rear. The account of the eagles coming to the prince regent is based on the way it actually happened, though a few adjustments were made for story purposes.
The trees in Berkeley Square are real, as are all the pieces of art described in the Royal Academy, though they weren’t necessarily laid out in the order described.
For more details about the actual history behind the book, look in the bonus materials section on www.kristiannhunter.com.
Acknowledgments
When I signed my contract for the HAWTHORNE HOUSE series, the day you would hold this book in your hand felt really far away. I’m still not sure I believe it’s here. The Hawthorne family has come to mean so very much to me, it’s hard to believe it is good-bye. Or at least good-bye for now.
I’m very happy too, because in sharing this fictional family, I’ve gained another real-life one: the readers who have gone on this journey with me and will continue on to the next, the incredible team at Bethany House that makes the magic happen and takes it from manuscript to finished book, and the other writers who have come alongside me and offered brainstorming help and support along the way.
Thanking every single one of them would take forever, but there are a few who need a little share of the limelight, because this book wouldn’t have happened without them.
First of all, if you enjoyed this book you have no idea how much thanks you owe my family. Supportive doesn’t even begin to describe them—the word is too small. It needs more syllables. Like supercalisupportivelistic.
Thankful is also an inadequate word when it comes to letting God know what it means to me that He lets me
ride this incredible ride. I am truly living my dream.
You probably knew about those two, though. So here are a few people you might not have known played a part in making this book.
Acknowledgments forever to Regina Jennings, who taught me how to Save the Cat and therefore led me to a plotting method that finally made sense to me. My writing will never be the same.
To my sister-in-law, who not only makes sure my books make sense but also is one of the prettiest women I’ve ever met—yet somehow manages to be so nice you can’t hate her for it. She proves it’s possible for Isabella to actually exist.
Thank you to the Internet, for having a home for some of the most obscure information imaginable. And thanks to Google for helping me find it. I now know how much Chris Hemsworth weighed when he was playing Thor.
Though I shall not call you by name, thank you to my friends who told me what it was like to be drunk. There are some things I’m not willing to experience in the name of research.
And finally, though he has no idea he did anything for me, I’d like to thank Jon Acuff and the 30 Days of Hustle Challenge for helping bring some sanity into my schedule. It is partly because of this that the books will continue coming. Jon, if by some strange meeting of worlds you ever actually read this acknowledgments page, I hope you post an Instagram picture of a llama with a bear, if for no other reason than it would be funny. And because llama is a fun word.
Kristi Ann Hunter graduated from Georgia Tech with a degree in computer science but always knew she wanted to write. Kristi is an RWA Rita Award–winning author and a finalist for the Christy Award and the Georgia Romance Writers Maggie Award for Excellence. She lives with her husband and three children in Georgia. Find her online at www.kristiannhunter.com.
Books by Kristi Ann Hunter
HAWTHORNE HOUSE
A Lady of Esteem*
A Noble Masquerade
An Elegant Façade
An Uncommon Courtship
An Inconvenient Beauty
*e-novella only
Resources: bethanyhouse.com/AnOpenBook
Website: www.bethanyhouse.com
Facebook: Bethany House
Twitter: @Bethany House
An Inconvenient Beauty Page 33
