Page 85 of The Notorious Lord Knightly
“Because I’m your father.” He’d not expected how voicing those words to this sprite would cause an agonizing ache in his chest because he’d not said them sooner. What he felt for this child was overwhelming in its complexity and purity. He’d die for her, just as he would for her mother.
Three tiny pleats appeared between her brow. She looked up at Regina and back at him. “I know. Princess told me.”
She could have knocked him on his arse by giving him a light push with one of her tiny fingers. “Princess told you?”
She nodded again. “She tells me lots of things.”
Regina lowered herself to the ground. “Arianna, do you even know what a father is?”
She shook her head.
Regina ruffled her fingers through the lass’s curls. “You’ll learn.”
Then his daughter, his beautiful, wonderful daughter, lurched forward and wound her arms around his neck. “I love you,” she announced enthusiastically.
“I love you, too, moppet.”
Breaking free, with a laugh, she raced off. Knight pushed himself to his feet, then helped Regina to hers. “She doesn’t really understand, does she?” he asked.
She snuggled against him, and he dropped his arm around her shoulders, bringing her in close. “I’m afraid I sheltered her, not wanting her to realize what she didn’t have. I never explained to much degreefamily or parents. I referred to my father as her grandfather, of course, but I suspect she was too young to truly comprehend her lack of a papa.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “For the best. Hopefully a time will come when she won’t even remember a point in her life when I wasn’t there.”
“There never was really.”
He looked down at her, knowing he would never take for granted the love he saw reflected for him in her brown eyes as she studied him.
“I named her Arianna because it was the closest I could come to naming her after her father: Arthur.”
“I’d have thought, duringthattime, any reminders of me would have been the very last thing you’d have wanted.”
“When she was born, and I first held her, I momentarily lost my head and forgave you all your sins. She was the greatest of gifts, Arthur.”
He shifted until facing her fully, pulling her near until they were aligned, pressing close. “I’m going to give you so many more gifts, Reggie. I’m going to give you everything you’ve always wanted: legitimacy, acceptance, more children.”
She ran her fingers up into his hair. “All I’ve ever wanted is you.”
Epilogue
Two weeks after Lord K asked for my hand, we were married in a small ceremony, with only our beloved daughter, his mother, his firmest friends along with their wives, and my sisters in attendance. That night, our wedding night, was the most glorious and splendid night I’ve ever known, filled with the rapture of our love.
—Regina Pennington,My Secret Desires, Vol. II
June 1877
Knight stood at the window in the library, knowing he needed to finish going over the reports provided by his two estate managers, man of affairs, and solicitor, but as usual he preferred to watch his family. His daughter was growing in leaps and bounds, his wife was more beautiful, and his mother—visiting for the afternoon—was more relaxed and happier.
He’d taken up residence within the manor Regina’s father had provided for her. In the end, her brother had given up his quest to have her trusts dissolved andeverything handed over to him. Regina’s letter appearing in the newspapers had taken the wind from his sails, especially when it became abundantly clear that more people cherished the book than found fault with it. The second volume had been released to even greater acclaim.
His London residence was where his mother lived. Without him there, she had regained her confidence and begun managing the household. She’d even had a few ladies over for tea.
“Your Grace?”
He still flinched at the address. The previous duke had passed only a few months earlier, and Knight wasn’t yet comfortable with his elevated status, and most of his peers had learned not to address him by his new title. He wanted as little about him as possible to be associated with Wyndstone. He turned to face the butler. “What is it, Shelby?”
“Mr. John Gurney has come to call, sir. I’ve shown him to the front drawing room as you requested.”
He’d been expecting the man’s arrival, had corresponded with him a few times. It was beneficial to have a firm friend whose wife had the ability to find lost things. Neither of whom pried or questioned his request. “Thank you, Shelby. Give me fifteen minutes and then inform my mother to meet me in the drawing room, but don’t tell her about our guest.”
