Page 134 of The Duke's Counterfeit Wife

He deadpanned, “Since I killed the last one? Twice.”

Tsking, she swatted his arm. “Do not joke about such things. But…yes. Griffin, if you do this, Rupert will have the best education and become the Duke of Peasgoode after you.” She lowered her voice. “Marcia will never have to compromise her beliefs to fit into Society—in fact, she will likely set social standards! Trousers for everyone!”

“God help us,” he intoned blandly. But then his lips softened. “And ye, my love? Yer inventions will become the talk of Britain, if ye’d like. Bull can go to the finest schools—”

“Bull doesnae want to go to the finest schools!” her son called out in a sing-song voice, proving to everyone he was listening. “He wants to go to Paris and Brussels and St. Petersburg to study fashion, then come back and use yer money to make a tremendous splash in the style world.”

Griffin’s lips curled, his gaze still on Felicity. “What do ye say, Flick? Want to visit Paris?”

And with that, her entire future opened up before her.

Here was a man who loved her for her. He respected her mind and her interests, and wanted to support her. He loved her son, and wasn’t going to force him into a life which didn’t suit him. He was her future.

Griffin was her future.

“I love you,” she whispered, yet again.

“Good, because I love ye.”

He was smiling when his lips found hers.

Epilogue

If asked, Griffin would’ve said making a duke took time and ceremony. Maybe even a little pomp. More ceremony than signing a few papers.

Well, to be fair, it was more than a few. The legal papers were endless, and there were untold letters to be written. Letters to the papers, letters to the Crown, letters to Duncan’s acquaintances. A letter to Cooke, Books & Steele to explain Griffin’s new position, and that he wouldn’t be asking for his old job back, and a letter to the rental company in London to explain he wouldn’t be requiring a lease renewal.

He and his family would be moving next door.

Felicity and Rupert had already worked out the bedroom arrangements for when they would have to be in London. Bull was willing to share his chambers with Rupert if it meant giving Mrs. Mac her own room, which was kind of him.

But truthfully, it was unlikely they’d all be in London that often.

Every single one of them had fallen in love, in some way, with Peasgoode and the Highlands. Griffin hadn’t lied when he’d said he felt a contentment here, and it wasn’t just because he was spending his time with his new family. Nay, there was something invigorating about knowing the land was in his blood—even if he had to go back quite a few generations to find it—and he belonged here.

Rupert was delighted to have the attention of two wise old men who doted on him and were willing to help him research all his questions.

Marcia was enjoying the freedom which came with isolation from Society; freedom to run and climb and fish and do handstands in the trousers Bull was no longer secretly making her.

Felicity loved the fresh air and the lighting, and had already had her housekeeper in London start packing up her study and laboratory equipment. She’d taken over the unused conservatory at Peasgoode, and she and Bull and Rupert often had their heads together in there, studying the schematics her colleague in France had sent her.

And Bull was thrilled to be—as he said it—home. During the three weeks it took for the authorities to consider them able to wed, Griffin and Felicity had taken the children to the Isle of Skye to meet Bull’s sister Honoria and her husband, Laird Crowe MacLeod, as well as meet her wee daughter Ellie.

Griffin hadn’t realized it was Felicity’s first time seeing Honoria since she’d left Bull in her care ten years before, but he stood beside her as she’d tearfully thanked the regal woman for raising her son.

Although he couldn’t be certain, having never met the woman before, Griffin got the impression that Lady MacLeod was relieved to see Bull settling in so well with his new family.

Did the lad realize how lucky he was to have so many people caring for him?

Griffin had returned to Peasgoode knowing he had a friend in the Highlands, a laird he could call on for support if necessary…and he knew Felicity felt the same way about Honoria.

There were more letters, more contracts, more paperwork. Ian insisted on overseeing it all, although Duncan insisted he stay seated. So now it was common to see the pair of them being wheeled through the halls of Peasgoode, bickering or teasing or holding hands. Sometimes all three.

Ian kept claiming he’d be on his feet in no time, and Duncan—smiling fondly—kept telling him not to rush nature.

And then, yesterday, with very little ceremony…Griffin became the Duke of Peasgoode.

Felicity had cried. So had Duncan. But Bull had whooped and pounded Griffin on the back, and Rupert had thrown himself into his arms…and it felt right.

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