Page 56 of Anastasia and the Duke

A cough from Gibbons stopped them in their tracks.

"I just have to go fetch something, I'll be back in five minutes," the maid said, her eyes dancing, "When I return, your Grace, I'll have the fire-poker with me so I can stoke the flames--please bear that in mind."

"I shall," Hawkfield replied, seriously, though the moment she left, he leaned down to kiss Hannah again.

"Perhaps I cannot wait as long as I thought," Hawkfield near-growled, as he broke the kiss.

"Nor I," Hannah agreed, her heart and body filled with longing for him, "But I don't know how you might convince Lady Lansdowne to agree to a wedding so soon."

"I'll promise her a great-granddaughter to fuss over. If my grandmother is anything to go by, Lady Lansdowne will run to fetch the special license herself," he smiled, and Hannah's own heart nearly burst at the idea.

She had found a family, she had the promise of another, and a handsome duke to call her own.

"Are you crying?" Hawkfield asked, as he felt her tears against his cheek.

"It just feels like a fairy-tale," Hannah replied, with a watery laugh, "And I don't believe in fairy-tales and happily ever afters."

"I did not either," the duke stroked her cheek, "But you, Anastasia De Bonneval, have made me believe."

And then he rained kisses down upon her once more, until Gibbons returned and began poking at the fire with a violent zeal.

Epilogue

One month later…

Anna could not quite believe, as she walked down the aisle of St George’s Chapel, that the bride’s side of the church outnumbered the groom’s.

As the Earl of Morris, or Uncle Colin, as he liked to be called, escorted her proudly towards the altar where Oliver awaited her, Hannah smiled out at her guests.

Present to see her wed were her grandmother, her cousins, the entire staff of thirty-three Grosvenor Square, as well as Lady Uptondown and her granddaughter Miss Robin.

Lady Uptondown offered Anna a very saucy wink as she caught her eye, and Anna struggled to contain a giggle.

In all her years, scraping by in the Rookery, she had never imagined that one room could contain so many people who loved her.

Nor had she ever imagined that anyone might love her as much as the man waiting for her at the top of the aisle.

Oliver’s stormy-blue eyes were slightly watery, as the earl made a great fuss of handing Anna over to him.

“I’ve warned him that I’m a crack shot with my musket,” Uncle Colin whispered in Anna’s ear, before he let her go, “Just say the word, my dear, and I’ll have his head off.”

“I rather like him with his head on, Uncle,” Anna replied, though she did squeeze his hand in gratitude for the offer. It was the third one she’d had that day. The first had come from Lady Lansdowne, who professed herself capable with a whip. While Gibbons had whispered that she would always have her fire-poker handy, should Anna ever require her to brandish it on her behalf.

It was comforting to know that she had so many people willing to leap to her defence, should she need them, but Hannah knew that she would never be required to take up their offers.

Oliver was her safe home.

As he took her hand, Anna felt at peace at once. Here was a man who knew everything about her, who had even kissed her in her previous incarnation as a thief, and who still loved her. Who still wanted to take her hand and join it with his forever.

“Quite a crowd outside,” Oliver whispered, as the vicar fumbled for the right page, “I’d like to think my title has something to do with it, but it’s all down to you.”

The announcement of their engagement had also served as an announcement to the world that Anastasia de Bonneval had been found. The small piece of print inThe Timeshad sent the nation into a flurry of excitement, and Anna had been catapulted to the position of the most famous person in all of England.

Her engagement to London’s most desired but elusive bachelor had merely sealed her celebrity status.

“I’m dreaming of a quiet week or two in the country,” Anna whispered, smiling up and him shyly, “Where we can be alone together.”

“We’ll be alone,” Oliver grinned, his eyes glinting with promise, “But I can’t promise you a quiet time, Miss de Bonneval; I have plans for you.”

Anna’s stomach fluttered with desire, but she did not respond, for the vicar had at last found his place.

“Dearly beloved,” he intoned to the gathered, “We are here today to join Oliver Edward St Martin De Vere and Anastasia Maria de Bonneval in holy matrimony.”

As he uttered her true name, with great pomp and ceremony, Anna felt a shiver of delight run through her whole body.

It was real, she thought with delight, gazing up at her handsome Prince Charming. Though it felt like a fairy tale, all of it was real.