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He wrapped her tight in his arms, knowing that he’d never let go.

EPILOGUE

Six months later…

Max pulled his coat tighter, the scarf about his neck helped with the biting wind. It was nearly dark, and with Christmas approaching, the nights were cold. It’s not that he’d noticed all that much though. He spent those nights wrapped in his wife’s embrace where he’d never been warmer. He stepped inside the kitchen, knocking the mud from his boots.

It had been a long day of travel. He’d rode for three hours to the village where Sophie had been raised to oversee the sale of her family’s home and her father’s business. In his hand, he held a large bag of coins. He’d add them to her collection. By right, Sophie was now a rich woman, having saved quite the sum.

He’d already begun saving Abigail’s dowry. Should anything happen to him, Sophie would have all the funds she needed to care for herself. She’d never find herself without options again. He’d make certain of that.

Max trotted up the stairs, finding Sophie and Abigail curled up together in the library.

“Reading?” he asked, dropping the coin on the table before joining them on the settee. He wrapped an arm around Sophie and Abigail climbed into his lap.

“We’re reading ‘Red Riding Hood’ and ‘Cinder Seat,’” Abigail said. “’Red Riding Hood’ is Sophie’s favorite, but I like ‘Cinder Seat’ best.”

“And why is that little one?” he asked, kissing Abigail’s head.

“Because Pop-Pop,” Abigail said, using her nickname for him. “Cinder Seat becomes a princess like Sophie became a baroness. Red Riding Hood only gets pulled from a wolf’s stomach.” She wrinkled her nose. “Icky.”

Sophie laughed. “Perhaps you only need be in one wolf’s belly to know what sort of blessing it is to be rescued. That’s what happened to us. Max saved us.”

Max looked over at his wife, brushing his knuckles down over the velvet of her cheek. Is that how she felt? She needn’t worry. No wolf would ever make it through his door. A prince for Abigail maybe, but the only very best.

“My favorite is the ‘Princess and the Frog,’” he told Abigail, chuckling when she clicked her tongue.

“You can’t kiss a frog and make him a prince. That one is silly.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Seems plausible to me.” He leaned over Abigail and kissed Sophie. Her love had transformed him, there was no doubt about that.

Abigail hopped off his lap, fetching the doll he’d given her after the wedding. As promised, he’d let her choose it herself from a shop in London.

With Sophie’s sister occupied, he could snuggle his wife even closer. She rested her cheek on his shoulder, sighing as she snuggled deeper into his arms. “Do you need to travel anywhere else before Christmas?”

“No.” He kissed the crown of her hair. He’d had traveled more than he liked as he’d ordered the estate, but it was all worth the trouble. The manor was beautiful, and it would make an excellent home to fill with children. “It will just be you, me, and Abigail.”

“And Ironheart,” she said, leaning back. “And, he claims he has a surprise for us.”

His brows lifted. “A surprise? Did he buy a distillery?”

Sophie laughed. “Stop. He’s been a good friend. And besides…I’ve hardly seen him drink at all.”

“He’s on his best behavior around you.” So, Ironheart would be there for Christmas. Max actually missed that degenerate. He hoped it was a good surprise.