George turned to the duke’s mother. “To my new mama-in-law, who taught me . . .” She paused mischievously. The duke’s mother tensed. “. . . to look beneath the surface. And who I hope will forgive me for making her into a dowager duchess.” The duke’s mother grimaced slightly, then pasted a false smile on her face.

She would remarry quickly to be rid of the aging title “dowager,” Hart had told George earlier. Apparently it was a sure thing. Sinc had a bet on it.

George smiled at Sir Lionel and Lady Peplowe and their daughter Penny, who had Thomas’s friend, Mr. Oliver Yelland, on one side and Mr. Sinclair on the other. “And to my dear friends. What a gift friendship is. Thank you.”

“Finally I want to welcome the next generation, little Bertie, my godson, and Phillip and Danny, the two newest members of the family. And”—she gave Rose a misty smile—“to the babies yet to come.”

She raised her glass. “For most of my life I never knew what it was like to have a family—or friends, really, except for animals—and now”—her voice broke and she had to choke out the last words—“now I am rich in both family and friends—all of you who are here tonight.” Her eyes filled. “Oh, drat it. Hart?” She put out her hand, and her husband placed his handkerchief in it.

There was a scattering of laughter and a few more handkerchiefs produced to wipe eyes.

The duke rose to his feet. “To complete the toast on my wife’s behalf, when I first proposed marriage—”

“You never did, actually,” she muttered sotto voce, and he laughed and caught her hand in his.

“—I didn’t know much about families, but my beloved wife has taught me that family is created not just through marriage and by the joining of bloodlines. A family—a true family—can also be built through acceptance, trust and, most importantly, through the power of love. So, a toast: To my wife, to our friends and family, and to the power of love.”

“To my husband,” George added. “And to the power of love.”

They all raised their glasses. “To the power of love.”

*   *   *

The ball was going beautifully and everything was perfect. George had just popped out the back to let Finn and the puppies out. In a few minutes, her husband would come looking for her for the supper dance, a waltz. And later they had plans to meet in the library and reenact their first kiss.

She was coming back in through the servants’ entrance when a movement caught her eye. Out in the deserted kitchen courtyard, Aunt Dottie and Logan were dancing to the music from the ballroom. George watched, smiling, as they twirled together in dance steps all their own, but graceful and full of joy.