Abigail’s fingers closed around his. “Your brother said something to me today.”

“If Quinn was impolite to you, he’s a dead big brother.”

“He was very kind. He said a duke fights the hard battles, the thankless battles, because he wants to be worthy of the duchess riding at his side. He’s a good man, your brother.”

“He’s a good man in part because he found the right duchess.”

Abigail curled closer, scandalously, marvelously close. “I want to be the sort of woman who can inspire a duke to fight the hard battles. The battles in the Lords, the battles for the children, for decency, for wounded soldiers, and so much more. I want to be the sort of woman who can love my husband’s son, even if nobody knows he’s my husband’s son, and who can ride into battle beside the man I love.”

A peace settled over Stephen, and a profound joy warmed his heart. “Say that last part again, please.”

“I love you.”

“Do you know what’s wonderful, Miss Abigail Abbott?”

“You are.”

“Mayhap I am, but what’s wonderful is you don’t expect me to propose on bended knee, and if I were ambitious enough to attempt such a feat, you’d help me up at the conclusion of my soliloquy.”

She peered over at him. “Would you like to propose on bended knee?”

Stephen thought about it, thought about getting mud on his breeches, and making a complete cake of himself in the middle of the afternoon, and of all the times nobody had thought to treasure Abigail for the wonder she was.

“Here we go,” he said, bracing his cane and sliding off the bench to take a knee. “Your hand, Miss Abbott.”

She drew off her glove and gave him her hand.

“Miss Abbott, our association has not been long, but my feelings for you are deep, constant, a trifle naughty, and very sincere. More than a trifle naughty, if we’re to be honest, and we must be or I do hope you will spank me. Will you do me the unfathomably great honor of becoming my wife, the answer to my every prayer, and the fulfillment of my dearest dreams?”

“Spank you?”

“Only if you want to.”

She enveloped him in a hug. “Yes, I will marry you. Yes and yes, and yes.”

Stephen kissed her, and the knee of his breeches grew damp, and he kissed her some more until a goose honked indignantly, and Abigail laughed and helped him back onto the bench. They stayed in the park for a long, lazy hour, discussing parasols that could conceal peashooters and riding crops that could conceal knives. When they made their way back to the coach, they did so arm in arm at the dignified pace of a future duke and duchess.

Epilogue

“Mama needs looser dresses,” Nicholas announced. “Papa Andy says I’m not to notice.”

Stephen had chosen a bench halfway across Berkeley Square from Gunter’s, and thus the boy’s announcement hadn’t fallen on gossiping ears.