Page 143 of Every Rake Has A Silver Lining

She shook her head, rolling her eyes once more, but she rose and did as he asked.

Twenty minutes later, she curled next to him on the sofa. He wasn’t certain who was purring the loudest—Charlotte, Trifle, or him.

Fingertips stroking the length of Charlotte’s arm, he exhaled a deep sigh of contentment.

Ah, the purring came from his wanton wife, and she nuzzled her face against his chest.

“Charlotte?”

“Hmm?” she replied dreamily.

“Marry me.”

She gaped at him, her dark eyes still hazy from their coupling. “We’re already married, you dolt.”

“I know. I just wanted to ask you again. To let you know I want to marry you for all the right reasons.” He kissed her again. “Because I love you.”

She laughed. “Of course you do.” And his heart swelled at the whispered addendum. “And I love you, too.”

Perhaps this love thing had a silver lining after all.

EPILOGUE

ONE MONTH LATER . . .

Charlotte peeled back the curtain from the front window, searching the path leading to the house, eager for Simon’s return. Although overcast, which Simon explained was perfect weather for fishing, no lightning or thunder lit the sky or boomed in the distance. And if such portents had appeared, she had no doubt Simon would return posthaste to hold and reassure her all would be well.

However, the gloomy skies were not what made her anxious to see her husband, but rather the latest copy ofThe Muckraker.

Regardless of the idyllic month they’d spent at Rosehaven Park after the incident, most of the time in each other’s arms, they had planned to return to London later in the week. Drake had written, emphasizing all was well with Honoria and little Kitty, but from Simon’s furrowed brow as he read the letter, something hidden in Drake’s words concerned her husband. And as Charlotte clutchedThe Muckrakerin her other hand, waiting forher husband’s return, she wondered if the two things were connected.

Trifle meowed at her feet, as if commiserating Simon’s absence. Charlotte glanced down, wondering if they could take the kitten with them. No doubt the scamp would require frequent stops much like her husband.

At last, Simon appeared around the curve in the path, his worn fishing hat tilted at a jaunty angle. My, but he was dashing! From his expression, he’d had a productive morning. Charlotte hated the fact she would put a damper on his positive spirit.

He stepped inside, tossing his hat aside and handing tackle and basket to John. “Tell Madge to save a large piece for Trifle.” When his gaze snagged on Charlotte, his grin widened, and he opened his arms. “Where’s my greeting?”

Not hesitating, Charlotte flung herself into Simon’s embrace. “I’m so glad you’re home.” After one quick sniff, she pulled back. “You smell like fish.”

He laughed. “As much as I love the greeting, you haven’t given me time to wash.”

“Because there isn’t time.” She waved the gossip rag in front of him. “We must leave for London at once.”

Ignoring her complaint about the fish smell, he pulled her close. “First, a kiss to shore me up for what I suspect is going to be bad news.”

Long seconds passed, and Simon’s lips made Charlotte forget the pungent odor of trout. Who would have ever imagined she’d be so in love she could ignore such a thing? Or that a man like Simon could turn her brain to mush with a kiss?

When he finally broke the kiss, she stared at him in a daze.

“Well?” he asked. “What’s so important?”

“Hmm?” Her murmured answer elicited a chuckle from her husband.

“You were waving that gossip sheet in my face and telling me we needed to return to London immediately.”

“Oh, right.” Grasping his hand, she led him into the drawing room and pulled him next to her on the sofa. “Here. Read.”

Handing him the scandal sheet, she waited.

---