“It’s all right, sweetheart, I have you now,” he crooned, rocking her as he held her tight. “I have you, my darling, you’re safe now.”

“Don’t let me go,” she whispered into his neck, trying to stop the shaking that wracked her body. “I knew you’d come, Noble. I knew you would find me, my darling, adorable, beloved husband. But don’t you think you could have found me a little bit sooner?”

Noble let out a shaky laugh and squeezed the breath out of her. “Wife, you are the only woman I know who could suffer what you just suffered and still have enough breath to lecture me.”

Gillian pulled out of his embrace just far enough to see those dear, lovely silver-gray eyes with the marvelous black flecks. “I do not lecture, my lord. You lecture. I just listen. Oh, Noble! You are bleeding! Your poor legs are cut! You must let me attend them before you become ill.”

Noble laughed again, stronger this time, and released her only long enough to drape a bedsheet around her before opening the door. “Nothing can harm me now, love, especially not a few scratches.”

Rosse stood outside the door with a hatchet, panting with the effort of trying to break it down. “She’s all right?” he asked as Noble pushed past him, Gillian settled comfortably in his arms.

“Unhurt, just frightened.”

“And…?” He nodded toward the room.

“He’s in there. You’re welcome to him. What’s left.”

Rosse smiled. “I will take great pleasure in cleaning up after you.”

Gillian took one look at that smile and burrowed her head under Noble’s chin. She didn’t want to think how Lord Rosse intended to “clean up.”

“Papa?” Nick squirmed out of John Coachman’s grasp and ran up the stairs as Noble carried Gillian down. “Is Mama all right?”

Gillian untucked her head and beamed at her son. “I’m fine, Nick, just a little embarrassed in the clothing department.” She tipped her head back to look at Noble. “Did you hear, husband? He called me ‘Mama.’”

He stopped in the middle of the staircase and kissed her as he had wanted to kiss her ever since he laid eyes on her walking across the ballroom with Charlotte.

“Papa? Papa, you did rescue Mama just like we did you.”

Noble tore himself from Gillian’s mouth and gathered his wits enough to smile down at his son as he started down the rest of the stairs. “Did we, indeed?”

“Yes.” Nick jumped down the stairs and pranced around Noble as he headed toward his carriage. “You see? Mama is wearing a bedsheet just like you wore when we rescued you. We did it right, Papa, just like you said.”

Noble looked down at his wife, so warm and soft in his arms, her curves melting into him, her breath gently splaying across his neck. Her scent surrounded him, filling him with warmth from his crown to his very toes. “Yes, we did it right, Nick. This time we did it right.”