Confessions of a Royal Bridegroom

Epilogue



Justine set aside her needlework when her husband strolled into the drawing room. She rose and crossed to the whatnot to retrieve a decanter and pour a splash of brandy into a delicate, facet-cut glass.

“How did you know?” he said, accepting the drink.

“You were locked up with Dominic for an hour and you just escorted your mother out to her carriage. Surely at least one of those events discomposed you.”

He sighed dramatically as he tugged her down next to him on the settee. “You know me too well, love. Between Dominic’s constant lectures and my mother’s endless apologies, I feel myself teetering on the verge of hysteria.”

“How very upsetting for you,” Justine replied, trying not to laugh at his dramatic exaggeration. “I take it that your visit with Dominic was not entirely enjoyable.”

“Oh, we quite enjoyed discussing Count Marzano’s precipitous removal from England. He will no longer pose a threat to the baby or anyone else in this family.”

“Thank goodness. I know Chloe was still worried about that.”

Griffin flashed a half smile. “But you were not?”

“Oh, no. Between Dominic and Aden, I was sure the Prince Regent would come round to our way of thinking. After all, how could he possibly resist their joint efforts?”

He laughed. “It’s true. As much as my cousin dislikes spending time with his dear father, he’s become quite adept at handling Prinny. Almost as adept as I am, in fact.”

“That’s only because His Highness owes you so much money,” she said in a dry voice.

His only answer was another crooked grin.

“So I take it,” Justine said, “that Dominic is satisfied there will be no political repercussions?”

“Very minor ones, perhaps, nothing we need be concerned about. But at Dominic’s insistence, I have agreed—grudgingly, I might add—to remain in England for a few more months until all matters are settled. We should be able to depart for Italy and Greece by late May.”

“It wouldn’t be very pleasant to leave at this time of year anyway.” Justine shuddered at the idea of traveling in winter. “Besides, you’ll be able to spend more time with your mother.”


His eyes narrowed on her but he said nothing as he drank his brandy. Mentally, Justine sighed. Although she gave her husband credit for treating his mother with a careful sense of courtesy, she wished he would let his guard down with her a little more. But he was proceeding slowly and with caution, and she couldn’t really bring herself to blame him.

“Did Dominic mention if Chloe will be allowed to remain as the child’s guardian?” she asked.

Griffin put his glass on the table in front of them and stretched an arm along the back of the settee, his hand curling around her shoulder. As always, her husband’s touch filled her with delicious warmth and a profound sense of security.

“Yes, although the Regent specified that Dominic should also be involved in seeing to Stephen’s well-being and safekeeping. So, it would appear that my mother and Dominic will be spending quite a bit of time together.”

“That should prove interesting,” Justine mused. “For two people who were once so close, they hardly know how to treat each other.”

Griffin nodded absently, his fingers playing with the small ruffle on the top of her sleeve. “I’ve never seen Dominic more off-kilter. I have to say, I’m rather enjoying that part of it.”

Justine turned in her seat to face him, determined to beard the lion in his den. “What about you, my love? How are you feeling about Chloe, now that a little time has passed?”

He gave a casual shrug, but his lean, handsome features were thoughtful. “As much as I’d like to cherish my resentment of her, I find myself unable to do so. She seems so . . . vulnerable.” He sighed. “And so bloody sorry. Whenever she embarks on another round of apologies, I struggle with the most extraordinary sense of guilt, if you can believe it. It makes me want to grovel in apology.”

Justine put a comforting hand on his thigh, wishing she could do more to help him forgive his mother and, she hoped, eventually love her. If there was one thing she’d learned in the last few days, it was that Chloe infinitely deserved love.

“She sincerely believed she was doing the right thing by staying away from you,” Justine said.

He let out a little snort. “Yes, but she was wrong.”

“She realizes that now, too.”

He let out another sigh and tugged her against him. Justine went willingly, snuggling into her husband’s embrace.

“Well, there’s no point in beating my breast over it,” Griffin said. “After all, if my mother had found me, she probably would have carted me back to Yorkshire. Or made me work at her blasted charity, which might have been even worse. She’s almost as bad as a missionary when it comes to that sort of thing.”

“Who knows?” Justine said, patting him on the chest. “You might have ended up a vicar, after all.”

He laughed, and then tipped her chin up to look at him. She saw no shadows or regrets in his dark gaze—only love and a wicked glint of humor.

“As blasphemous as it sounds, my sweet,” he said, “there’s only one thing I want to worship right now, and that’s you. And preferably while you’re naked.”

She rested a hand on his cheek, putting all the love in her heart into her smile. “It is very naughty of you to say such a thing, but I suppose that’s what comes from marrying a man of your reputation, Mr. Steele. I have only myself to blame for engaging in such reckless behavior.”

And as he leaned down to kiss her, Justine could only thank God that she had.