Page 132 of The Duke's Counterfeit Wife

Slowly, Griffin nodded. “Ye can be infuriating, love, but ye’re also intriguing and invigorating and other words that start with in.”

“Invaluable?” suggested Duncan.

“Inflammable,” called out Bull.

Griffin just shook his head, his attention still on her. “I love ye, Felicity Montrose, and I love yer son as well. I ken I’m just two pennies above penniless, without a job, and living in a house we’ll have to soon vacate. But…” He swallowed, suddenly looking uncertain in a way which made her love him even more. “But I love ye. And if ye would consent to allowing me—and my children—to be part of yer family, I would be honored. And I can swear to love ye for the rest of my life.”

Felicity was…

Overwhelmed. Overawed. Overwrought.

He loved her? Griffin Calderbank loved her?

She was still staring at him, eyes wet with unshed tears, barely comprehending the beautiful poetry of his words…while inside, part of her was jumping up and down and punching the air and screaming “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

But…

But that wasn’t how it was supposed to go, was it?

She swallowed, then swallowed again. He’d told her such wonderful things, but she hadn’t had a chance to explain her feelings.

“That was…” She squeezed his hands. “That was beautiful, Griffin. Thank you,” she whispered.

“Ye’re no’ saying aye?” He sounded a bit alarmed.

“I cannot accept your kind proposal, my love.”

“Ye cannot?” Griffin’s voice was hoarse, but his eyes widened. “Love?”

“Yes. Because, you see, I love you. Very much. I believe I began to fall in love with you that very first evening, when you smelled so delicious.”

“I…smelled?”

Rupert clutched his throat and fell over sideways, still making fake gagging noises. But Felicity ignored him as she tried to explain her feelings for his father.

“I love that you accept me for who I am, and do not want me to change. I love that you care for and about those around you, although you try your hardest to hide that fact. I love that your heart is big enough to change your mind. I love you.”

Griffin was staring at her, mouth open.

From behind her, she heard Ian’s prim tones. “Then why, my dear, can you not marry him? For real, this time?”

And she allowed her grin to bloom as she held Griffin’s gaze “Because, you see, I think you and Marcia and Rupert should allow Bull and myself to become part of your family.”

Griffin exhaled softly as Bull let out a whoop and leapt to his feet. Over Griffin’s shoulder, she saw her son grab Marcia up and spin her in a circle, as Rupert jumped up and down.

“Ye mean it, Flick?” Griffin whispered hoarsely. “Ye want to marry me? Be my wife, and let me be yer husband?”

“And be parents—equal partners—for our children.”

“Thank Christ,” he breathed, right before he hauled her up against him, his lips crushing against hers.

Felicity wrapped her arms around his neck and tried not to whimper.

She didn’t know how to spell it, anyhow.

By the time Griffin pulled away, she was somehow sprawled more or less in his lap. The children were chattering in excitement and a maid was refilling everyone’s tea, her gaze down but her lips curled.

Felicity imagined word of her impropriety would spread across the estate by that evening, and she couldn’t bring herself to care.

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