Page 89 of The Lady Was Lying
He hadn’t known how much he needed to hear those words until she said them.
“Belinda,” he growled, and in a blink, the kiss turned wild. He kissed her as if his life depended on it, and she kissed him back in the same way. The scandal they would be forced to weather no longer scared him. With Belinda at his side, he could face whatever challenges the future offered.
Epilogue
It was nearly dark when the carriage came to a halt.
After multiple days of travel and a hasty wedding, they were all rather rumpled when they tumbled out into the brisk evening air. Edward and Violet allowed themselves to be ushered inside by a servant, but Belinda paused to survey her new home. She had been hovering in a state of incredulity all day, and it spiked as she viewed James’s ancestral seat. Not only had she become duchess that morning, she had also become the mistress of a veritable castle.
Constructed entirely of rock, it was massive, extending in both directions with tall, arched windows that sat high above the ground. It was less ornate than Greydon Hall but more intimidating. A bubble of laughter threatened, and even though she had no regrets, she was relieved when James wrapped his arm around her shoulders. His touch anchored her. “It isn’t as daunting as it appears.”
“It is very grand though.”
With all the nooks and crannies, it would be the perfect setting for a haunting, and while she’d never considered herself particularly squeamish, she wouldn’t be venturing around at night until she had a better sense of her surroundings.
“I hope you like it here,” he added.
“You are here, therefore I will like it.” She probably sounded too sentimental, but she didn’t care.
“James,” a feminine voice called, interrupting the moment.
Belinda hadn’t noticed the first time they met, but James looked nothing like his mother. Dainty, with mostly white hair and a regal bearing, the Dowager Duchess of Avondale approached at a brisk pace, halting directly in front of them and eyeing her son with what appeared to be annoyance. “You got married without me.”
He winced. “Apologies. It was spur of the moment.”
“It was not,” Belinda disagreed.
The dowager raised her brow.
“He kidnapped me,” she added, realizing a moment too late that the truth might not be something the dowager needed to know.
The other woman didn’t seem the spiteful sort, but Belinda’s mother had revealed her secret, and she might feel as if she had nothing to lose by soiling Belinda’s reputation.
“It wasn’t as lurid as it sounds,” James argued.
His arm tightened slightly around her shoulders, as if he thought Belinda required his strength to bolster her own. She let her weight settle more firmly against his side. Just because she didn’t require his support didn’t mean she didn’t want it.
The dowager scanned her from top to bottom. “You don’t appear to be under duress.”
“Turns out that I’m amenable to kidnapping.” At least by James.
“Apparently.” The dowager pursed her lips and turned to her son. “I can’t believe I missed the wedding. I would have liked to be there.”
“We should have stopped here first.” He massaged his temple. “I was eager and didn’t consider your feelings.”
Belinda felt an unexpected pang in her chest. “Perhaps we could plan a little soiree here at Bramblewood to celebrate.”
The dowager brightened. “That is a fine idea. A welcome ball for our new duchess. It’s been some time since we’ve entertained, but I’m sure we can manage to do you justice.”
Belinda balked. “It doesn’t need to be anything extravagant.”
The dowager waved her hand in the air. “Nonsense.”
“I don’t enjoy large parties,” she interjected, unsure whether she would feel different with James by her side but overwhelmed by the prospect regardless.
The dowager paused. “You don’t?”
Belinda fought the urge to squirm. “Not particularly.”
