“You’d lost everything else,” Dare murmured in between light little kisses. “I couldn’t take away the last thing you had—the respect of Society. I know how much it means to you.”

“The ton means nothing to me, husband.” Charlotte looked up into her husband’s eyes and smiled as she brushed a lock of his hair from his eye patch. He was wearing the one upon which she’d embroidered an open eye, the better, she had told him at the time she presented it to him, to intimidate those around him. “The only thing that matters is you. I would quite happily live at the very ends of the earth and never again step foot in a single ballroom or opera theater as long as it meant I had your love.”

“Oh. It was all a trick, then? The blood and the pistols and Lady Charlotte screaming like a banshee?” Lord Beverly asked.

“You can be assured you have that, Char,” Dare said just before his lips claimed hers. She burned with his heat, and pressed herself closer to him, forgetting for the moment everything but the joy she felt when she merged herself with him. He tore his mouth from hers with a shaky laugh and held her at arm’s length. “You make me forget myself, wife. McGregor—or I should say, Carlisle—I assume you can handle Collins without any further assistance?”

Geoffrey smiled at them both. Charlotte suddenly noticed a resemblance in his and Dare’s smile and decided to forgive Geoffrey for his unwitting role in Dare’s loss.

“This won’t affect your engine, will it?” she asked softly as she watched Geoffrey speak quietly to her brother.

“Losing the title? It won’t make one peck of difference, love. I wasn’t counting on the few men who were interested in investing in the engine. Only by selling it outright will we have enough to be able to return to Scotland and live our lives in peace.” Dare suddenly looked worried. “You won’t mind living in Scotland, will you, Char? It’s not very stylish, and there’s not a lot of Society—”

“Then I shall love it even more,” she told him with a full-dimpled smile. “I think I’ve had enough of the ton for a while. I will be happy to simply be Mrs. McGregor. It will make a nice change, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” said Dare as he bent to taste her lips just once more. “I think it will make a very nice change.”

Epilogue

Alasdair McGregor, former Earl of Carlisle, leaned against a stone pillar and watched his wife stroll toward him on the arm of his sister’s uncle-by-marriage, accompanied by his brother-in-law.

“So, in the end everything turned out all right?”

Dare inclined his head in acknowledgment of the question.

“But what happened to Char’s brother?” Patricia asked.

“He slipped away right after the duel and ran for the Continent. Not even his wife knows where he went, but it’s of little matter. His financial affairs are in ruin, and his reputation is in tatters now that the truth about his actions have been made public.”