Anthony kissed her. Kissed her so hard and so thoroughly that it was several moments before she could think, much less speak, and when she could speak, she only managed a rather weak “Oh my!”

“Get used to it,” he said roughly. “That’s the way I’m going to keep you from focusing your meddling on anyone other than me or the children.”

Warmth spread through Anna and she grinned happily up at him. “Then I had better get busy. There are a lot of things I want to change.”

“About me?”

“No. About your bedchamber. That bed is far too large for just one person.” She traced her finger across his bottom lip. “And I was thinking…”

“I love the way you think,” he said gruffly. “But not as much as I love you.” Within minutes Anna was wrapped in a cloak and on her way home to Greyley, certain, for the first time in her life, that she was exactly where she wanted to be.

Epilogue

I love a good wedding. Especially when it isn’t mine.

Brand St. John to Lady Julia McLean, Viscountess Hunterston, at the wedding of the Earl of Greyley to Miss Anna Thraxton

Sir Phineas took a deep puff of his cigarillo. The rich smoke filled his lungs and sent a peaceful surge all the way to his toes. Stretching mightily, he leaned back in the leather chair and placed his feet on the desk, admiring the shine of his new shoes.

It was peaceful here, despite the hum of the wedding guests who were even now leaving Greyley House, having enjoyed Lord Greyley’s lavish hospitality. Carriages rimmed the long drive as, one after another, the late stayers made their way back to their own homes.

With a happy sigh, Sir Phineas refilled his glass from a decanter of nearby port, silently commending Anthony’s private stock. That was yet another thing he liked about his new grandson-in-law—the man had impeccable taste. “Of course he does,” Phineas murmured, toasting the air. “He married a Thraxton, didn’t he?”

And did it in style, too. Phineas took an appreciative sip of port. The wedding had been held in a small chapel not ten minutes from the house, only immediate friends and family in attendance. But the reception had been far more elaborate. Anthony had thrown wide the doors to Greyley, and the huge house had been filled with the cream of the ton.

He’d been unstinting in the lavish affair, the house festooned with garlands of flowers and yards of pale blue and cream silk. Anna had protested over the amount of money spent, but Anthony had held firm. The reception had been one of the social events of the year.

Sir Phineas understood the earl’s desire for the huge event—he’d faced down the gossipmongers who would whisper “governess” every chance they got, with gilt-edged invitations, cases of the best champagne, and an array of delicate ice sculptures that caused a constant murmur of appreciation. Oh yes, Sir Phineas liked his new grandson-in-law quite well.