Page 19 of Wicked Designs (The League Of Rogues #1)
EPILOGUE
L ucien sat at the table in Cedric’s dining room, reading the morning paper. Cedric fed Penelope scraps from his chair next to him. The dining room was large for a London home, furnished with walnut chairs and a table, all gilded with scrollwork. Lucien looked over to Ashton and Charles, who were speaking near the large wood, glass-paned window overlooking the gardens.
The lords were enjoying themselves, having successfully seen Godric and Emily off on their honeymoon, and were now resting at Cedric’s townhouse after the adventures of the last few weeks.
“Well, Lucien? Anything interesting?” Ashton asked as he took a seat, leaving Charles alone to gaze out the window, lost in thought.
“There’s an interesting tidbit in the society pages.”
“Not Lady Society again?” Cedric chuckled. Penelope barked sharply at him. He reached down and picked her up, setting the foxhound on his lap. She was no longer a puppy.
All things grow up some day , Lucien thought to himself.
“Are you going to read it or not?” Charles asked from the window.
“Miss Emily Parr married the Duke of Essex at St. George’s Hanover Square on Sunday. The bride and groom will soon depart on one of Baron Lennox’s merchant vessels for their honeymoon. It would seem the eternal bachelor has embraced the shackledom of marriage at long last.”
“That’s all?” Ashton mused aloud.
Lucien folded the paper and set it down on the table. “Well, Lady Society spent half the column discussing Emily’s wedding gown and the various guests we managed to scrounge up at the last minute to fill the church. Not that it was a challenge.”
He looked out through the large windows overlooking the gardens where Cedric’s two sisters sat on a bench, heads bent as they spoke. As a married lady Emily would qualify as a chaperone, which only meant more trouble for Cedric. He’d have to watch over Horatia and Audrey, especially the latter. She was often in trouble, even when she wasn’t actively seeking it out. Not Horatia though, she was always perfectly behaved, and it rankled him to no end.
Charles grinned at Lucien. “I do believe that is the first positive piece about us in the Lady Society column. Wait until my mother reads it. She’ll be looking out the nearest window for signs of the four horsemen.”
“Speaking of the apocalypse,” Ashton began. Lucien knew from his tone trouble was on the horizon. “I heard from one of my sources that Hugo Waverly has returned from France.”
Charles’s smile faltered.
Lucien sat up straight. “What the devil is he doing back here? I thought we’d driven him off for good.”
Ashton frowned. “Been here for a few weeks they say. It seems he didn’t take our threats seriously, or does not care. I recommend that each of us be on guard until we can ferret out the truth of the matter. I doubt his motives have changed. He vowed to kill every last one of us. It is a small hope to think he’s changed his mind.”
“What can he be thinking, though? To take us on as young men, when we didn’t know our strength, that was one thing. But now?” Cedric stroked Penelope as he spoke, but the hound growled as though sensing his tension.
Lucien thought of all he stood to lose if Hugo Waverly struck. One person in particular came to mind. If he lost her, he’d lose himself. No, the time for posturing was over. It was time to prepare for war.
The League of Rogues would have to protect themselves, and those they loved, from Waverly’s fatal schemes.
Emily always preferred sunrises to sunsets. She supposed the symbolism of rebirth inspired her. But now, as she admired the tangerine glow of the setting sun, she noticed the purple hues that bled along the edges. She leaned against the deck railing, the polished wood smooth beneath her hands, feeling a little nervous about their first honeymoon night. It was nonsense of course, she and Godric had done everything already and she had no need for nerves.
A pair of strong arms slid around her waist, and a firm body pressed against her back.
Godric kissed her temple and then her cheek. “There you are, love.”
“Godric?” she said as lips danced down the line of her neck.
“Yes, darling?”
“Are you glad you married me?” She leaned into him, savoring his strength. After being strong and brave for so long, she was grateful to have him lend her strength when she needed it. They would support each other, as people who loved each other should.
“Glad? I could never be happier than the day you stood with me in the church. It was the beginning of an adventure.” His embrace tightened, keeping her secure in his arms.
“Marrying me was an adventure?”
Godric turned Emily around to face him. He cupped her cheeks with his palms and leaned in, resting his forehead against hers in the gold light of the setting sun. Each touch, each look shared between them, was like coming home. In him she found her life, her breath, her soul. With him she belonged in a way she’d never thought possible. Emily reached up to hold his wrists, losing herself in his eyes.
With infinite tenderness his lips met hers. Their kiss gathered life from the depths of their souls. The spark of passion that had burned so often between them was no longer. The blinding light that only love could bring had replaced it, burning them with its intensity. Their lips melded into one fiery mouth, and their racing pulses fused into one steady, beating heart. When they finally broke apart, Godric smiled.
“Loving you has been the adventure of a lifetime,” he said, “and we’ve only just begun.”
Thanks for reading Wicked Designs .