The Beast's Bluestocking (The Bluestocking War)

by Eva Devon

  “Yes,” he agreed, holding tightly to her hand, never wanting to let it go. “Joe is coming home. Just as you are. This castle is now your home.”

  “Ours. It is ours,” she replied fiercely, full of love.

  “Yes,” he breathed, gazing on her with wonder. “Ours. And here we shall make a family that the rest of the world shall envy.”

  “I think we shall be very pleased indeed without having to give the rest of the world much consideration,” she replied.

  She hesitated, her brow quirking. “A family, you say? To be clear, just what do you have in mind?”

  He arched a brow and laughed. “Yourself, myself, Joe, Clara—”

  “And anyone else?” she queried lightly.

  “I don't know.” He ventured slowly, pulling her closer as he set the note aside. He cupped her cheek, determined for her to understand how much she meant to him. “Perhaps in the future, perhaps when you have decided to be my duchess.”

  “Your duchess?” she queried, that brow still quirked, though her eyes had sparked.

  “Yes,” he breathed, tracing his thumb over her lower lip. “Marry me, Phillipa. Marry me and be with me for the rest of my days.”

  She cocked her head to the side. Though her lips parted softly and her eyes grew dark blue with desire, she studied him carefully and asked with a touch of lightness that didn’t quite hide her seriousness, “Are you not worried that I shall turn into your nursemaid? That seemed to be a great concern of yours not so very long ago.”

  Those words mocked him ever so kindly. Words he had uttered to her. Words that were positively ridiculous. And yet. . .

  “Yes,” he replied honestly.

  She gasped, pulling back ever so slightly. Not with horror or accusation but genuine surprise. “What? I do not understand.”

  “Of course I'm worried that you might turn into my nursemaid. Isn’t everyone afraid that one day they might need a nurse. . .” He grew quiet. Serious. “But I know something now I did not before.”

  “What is it?” she asked, tilting her face towards him.

  “It does not matter if you become my nurse if I were to one day grow worse, because we are together to support each other. And if I truly believe that I'm to support you, I must also believe you are to support me. This idea, for a man, silly as it may be, is difficult to accept. But we are equals, Phillipa. And I could never be so foolish as to believe I’d rather turn you away than be so lucky as to have your care.”

  He stroked a lock of her hair back from her face. “With luck, that will never occur. But if it does, I shall be truly fortunate to have you by my side.”

  She lifted her hand to his face and cupped his jaw. “I am so glad that you finally realized that.”

  “It took far too long,” he said as his heart filled with love.

  “Yes,”' she agreed, her eyes dancing, “it did. Never let me go again.”

  “I could never let you go again, Phillipa,” he ground out, ashamed he ever had. “Not after I could have lost you like that. The gods would think me the greatest of ingrates. They gave you to me in a chance, in a letter that wasn't supposed to come to me at all. What a fool I was to throw that away, to not see it for what it was when my world was crashing about me.”

  “And what was that?” she prompted softly.

  “Fate, Phillipa,” he whispered. He placed her hand on his heart and declared, “You and I are fated. I think that cannot be denied. We were meant to meet, and we are meant to be together.”

  “And we shall be together forever,” she agreed, and then she took his hand and placed his palm over her heart.

  He closed his eyes for the barest moment, so very grateful, and then he gazed upon the woman who would be his wife. “We shall be together until the stars fade and the oceans go dry.”

  She laughed. “That is very fanciful. I haven’t said yes yet,” she teased.

  “Indeed it is,” he agreed, not at all intimidated that she had not said yes. He trusted that she would. “But I find that I am fanciful this evening, for when one almost loses their entire life in a moment, one appreciates it.”

  “I'm glad,” she murmured before she admitted quickly, “I was so very afraid.”

  “Of what?” he asked, hating that she had felt thus.

  She licked her lips. “I was afraid, per chance, that you did not appreciate this life. That you were merely living it out. Preferring suffering to my love.”

  “That's very close to what Merrill said to me,” he grumbled, also grateful to his friend for helping him see reason.

  “Is it?” she asked, surprised.

  “Yes,” he affirmed. “But never you fear again on that account, Phillipa. I understand the gifts that I have been given. Not once, not twice, but three times.”

  “What are those gifts?” she asked.

  “Meeting you,” he marveled, “being saved at the Battle of Trafalgar, and then you coming back and insisting I not let you go.”

  Her eyes brightened with emotion. “Yes. I say,” she replied firmly. “Oh, and there is a fourth thing,” she said suddenly. “Joe. Joe is alive.”

  “I'm a lucky man indeed,” he said.

  “We are lucky,” she replied, before she offered her mouth for a kiss.

  We.

  A single word had never sounded so beautiful in all his life.

  Chapter 18

  The inquest had gone off without a hitch.

  It was remarkable how a group of gentlemen seemed to be remarkably off-put by a duchess sitting at the table whilst death was being discussed.

  None of the learned and esteemed gentleman seemed to like the idea of going into too many details as to why she might have had to kill Captain Adams.

  It was very clear that Captain Adams had been on the duke’s property when he was not supposed to be. That in itself, to men of English property, was a terrible offense. Trespass was not to be borne.

  And there was the fact he had lied to and forced a private audience with the duke's future wife.

  All the wealthy, oh so important men all thought it best to take the word of the Duke and Duchess of Grey to heart when coming to their hasty decision.

  Of course, it was decided with little debate that Captain Adams's death was not murder and that there was nothing further to discuss.

  It was quite clear that Lady Phillipa had been acting in self-defense. Perhaps the fact that the Duke of Blacktower and his wife, the Duchess of Blacktower, had also been sitting in the audience d made those making the decision feel a trifle bit of, well, pressure.

  None of that had been Phillipa's intention, of course.

  Her desire was to see justice done.

  But in their country, a duke and a duchess being present did certainly have an effect. And the truth was she had been defending herself. She had not murdered Captain Adams. Not by any means.

  If anything, she'd prevented Captain Adams from murdering herself or Grey or Clara. So she felt rather vindicated when the case was closed without any recommendation to go to trial. She had been nervous, of course. Who wouldn't be? One could never know the outcome of these things for certain, after all.

  But now, almost four months later? She felt light, buoyed with hope.

  And the fact of the matter was that she was glad to have it entirely behind her.

  With as much justice done as possible.

  Phillipa was also glad to be married and mistress of Anthony’s castle.

  Who would have thought that a quick marriage to the duke of her dreams would be so simple, so quick, and so thoroughly delightful.

  It had been a small wedding with just her sister and her brother-in-law, and, of course, Clara and Merrill were present. A breakfast had occurred after, and a small house party where they had spoken a great deal, drank much wine, and listened to music for hours upon hours.

  It turned out that Merrill was a most excellent pianist, and her husband had a very fine tenor. The two regaled the company with some positively shocking
shanties!

  Joe’s arrival from France had also been a remarkable thing. She hadn't been quite certain what to expect from the young man, and he was now becoming a young man, for he was certainly older than ten and his eyes bespoke an array of knowledge that no boy should know.

  There was no questioning the fact that Joe was a remarkable fellow.

  His voice was bright and full of enthusiasm. His russet hair glinted in the sun with bits of gold, and it never smoothed, the coils dancing wildly in the Cornish wind.

  His brown eyes sparkled with mirth and laughter most of the time. And even though he had seen harrowing things and experienced a difficult path, he seemed determined to move on. He never spoke of Captain Adams or his life under that man’s cruel command but. . .

  Joe looked upon Phillipa with a certain sort of heroism that took her breath away.

  Perhaps because of this, he had taken to trailing her footsteps, taking care of her, picking things up for her, doing whatever she needed, as if it was an eternal thank you for ridding the world of that man.

  She was delighted to have done that for him. She was delighted to have done it for the world. And she was so glad that Joe liked her. It was so important, the fact that he did.

  She was also very happy to shower the boy with care and attention and as much love as he would let her give him. He deserved it so very, very much.

  Every day, she set out to make Joe feel included and important to her.

  She understood that she was now a new part of the relationship between Joe and her husband. And she wanted them all to get on, and get on they did.

  So, when the time came and her belly began to swell with her and Anthony’s first child, she realized that Joe might feel a trifle out of sorts.

  Cognizant of this, she took Joe aside in the long formal garden and she said, “You know, I am so grateful that my child shall have you to grow up with. I can only hope, boy or girl, that they will become as wonderful a person as you are.”

  Joe looked at her from under his scruffy brows, looked at the book he’d been carrying, but then gently took her hand like a small boy with his mother. “I shall take care of the baby most happily. But I understand if you'd prefer if I went away.”

  “Joe!” she said softly, squeezing his hand, then pulling him gently into her arms.

  He was tall enough that she did not have to kneel down. She angled herself slightly and locked gazes with him. She wanted him to know how important he was. How safe he was with her. “I shouldn't like it one bit,” she assured. “And if you ever say such a thing again, well, we will have to talk about it further to understand why you feel thus. Do you understand?”

  His eyes widened with surprise. He held onto her tightly. Then he nodded.

  “You are special to Anthony,” she continued. “And you are special to me. He was so heartbroken when he feared you lost forever. And he has positively bloomed with happiness since you've been back. He loves the long walks you take together. And I know that you are the most fortunate thing to happen to us.”

  Joe cocked his head to the side. “Do you truly think so?”

  She beamed at him, then ran her hand along his unruly hair, wishing to give him all the love that he had missed. “Indeed I do.”

  “I'm glad, Phillipa,” Joe said firmly, using her given name as she had requested when they first met. “I like you quite a lot. I'm sure a baby between you and Anthony will be wonderful. But it does make me feel a bit. . .”

  “What?” she asked gently.

  Joe looked askance. “As if, perhaps, I'll be in the way.”

  “Never, Joe,” she replied carefully, wanting him to see how earnest she was. “You could never be in the way. The fact that you are alive and well has given Anthony new hope and new life. And you are our family, so we shall just be a bigger one now. Are you amenable to that?”

  He smiled up at her, his fear slipping away, and then he settled next to her, his shoulders more at ease. “I suppose I will be. And I shall make the baby eggs when it's time, and take the baby for walks, and read to the baby, and tell the baby to never join the Navy!”

  She laughed and pulled Joe closer to hug him tight. “Never join the Navy indeed, Joe. That's very good advice. Now, will you help me find Anthony?”

  “Of course,” he said. “I already know where he is! He is over by the lake. He's been doing a great deal of walking as of late.”

  She nodded. “Thank you, Joe. I think cook has made a cake and if you run, and tell her I sent you, you shall have some. And then you must spend the afternoon at play.”

  Joe let out a cry of delight for their cook did make particularly fine cake.

  He gave her a quick wink, then ran down the pebbled way without looking back.

  She hoped he would play.

  Playing was something she was glad that Joe had learned to do in the last months. It had been difficult for him at first to understand that he had no formal duties that he had to carry out if he did not wish to. But he had adjusted and was enjoying it now.

  She was so very glad she had spoken with Joe. His happiness mattered so much.

  Drawing in a breath, she turned down the path towards where Anthony spent so much time these days when he wished to go for his walks.

  When she came upon Anthony who was standing and contemplating the waves lapping the shoreline, she slipped her fingers into his wordlessly.

  They stared at the rippling waters together.

  It had been a most eventful year for both of them, though far more so for Anthony.

  There was no question that it had also been an incredibly painful one too for both of them, though in very different ways. A difficult one. One full of events which most people would never experience in the entirety of their lives.

  She lifted her chin and found herself asking the question she’d been so certain she would not. “Are you pleased?”

  “Pleased?” he queried, his brow furrowing.

  “Yes,” she said and then found herself clearing her throat. “To be a father?”

  He looked away from the lake and down at her, his eyes full of love and hope. “I cannot imagine anything so terrifying and so wonderful at the same time, Phillipa. But I am so glad that you and I are together and that you shall be by my side through all of my attempts at fatherhood.”

  She beamed up at him, barely able to convey her emotions. But she knew she must try. “Of course, I shall be by your side,” she declared. “Your heart is my heart, Anthony, and my heart is yours. Where else could I be but with my heart?”

  And with that, he traced his fingers along her jaw, then gently tilted her head back, leaned down, and caught her mouth in a perfect kiss.

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