She nodded. ―How on earth have you kept it a secret for so long? I assume no one knows. Surely Lady Olivia would not have called the books dreadful if she knew—" She winced. ―Oh, that‘s awful."
―Which is why she doesn‘t know," he told her. ―She would feel dreadful."
―You are a very kindhearted man." She gasped. ―And Sir Harry?"
―Also does not know," he confirmed.
―But he‘s translating you!" She paused. ―Your books, I mean."
Sebastian just gave a shrug.
―Oh, he would feel terrible ," Annabel said, trying to imagine it. She did not know Sir Harry very well, but still…they were cousins! ―And they‘ve never suspected?" she asked.
―I don‘t think so."
―Oh my." She sat down on the big flat rock. ―Oh my."
He sat down beside her. ―There are some," he said carefully, ―who might think it a rather silly, undignified pursuit."
―Not me," she said immediately, shaking her head. Good gracious, Sebastian was Sarah Gorely.
She was marrying Sarah Gorely.
She paused. Perhaps she ought not to think about it in quite those terms.
―I think it‘s marvelous," she declared, tipping her face up toward his.
―You do?" His eyes searched hers, and in that moment she realized just how very important her good opinion was to him. He was so confident, so comfortable and easy in his own skin. It was one of the first things she had noticed about him, before she‘d even learned his name.
―I do," she said, wondering if she was awful for loving the vulnerable look in his eyes. She couldn‘t help it. She loved how much she meant to him. ―It will be our secret." And then she laughed.
―What is it?"
―When I first met you, before I even knew your name, I remember thinking that you smiled as if you had a secret joke, and that I wanted to be a part of it."
―Always," he said solemnly.
―Perhaps I can be of help," she suggested, giving a sly smile. ―Miss Winslow and the Mysterious Author."
It took him a moment to catch on, but then his eyes lit with the fun of it. ―I can‘t use mysterious again. I‘ve already had a mysterious colonel."
She let out a snort of mock irritation. ―This writing business is so difficult."
―Miss Winslow and the Splendid Lover?" he suggested.
―Too lurid," she replied, batting him on the shoulder. ―You‘ll lose your audience and then where will we be? We have future gray-eyed babies to feed, you know."
His own eyes flared with emotion, but still, he played along. ―Miss Winslow and the Precarious Heir."
―Oh, I don‘t know. It‘s true you probably won‘t inherit, although thankfully I won‘t have anything to do with it, but still, ‗precarious‘ sounds so…"
―Precarious?"
―Yes," she agreed, even though his sarcasm had not been disguised in the least. ―What about Mrs. Grey?" she asked softly.
―Mrs. Grey," he repeated.
―I like the sound of it."
He nodded. ―Mrs. Grey and the Dutiful Husband."
―Mrs. Grey and the Beloved Husband. No, no, Mrs. Grey and Her Beloved Husband ," she said, with an emphasis on ―her."
―Will it be a story in progress?" he asked.
―Oh, I think so." She reached up to give him a kiss, then stayed there, their noses touching. ―So long as you don‘t mind a new happy ending every day."
―It does sound like an awful lot of work…" he murmured.
She pulled back just far enough to give him a dry look. ―But worth it."
He chuckled. ―That didn‘t sound like a question."
―Plain speaking, Mr. Grey. Plain speaking."
―It‘s what I love about you, soon-to-be Mrs. Grey."
―Don‘t you think it should be Mrs. soon-to-be Grey?"
―Now you‘re editing me?"
―Suggesting."
―As it happens," he said, looking down his nose at her, ―I was right. The ‗soon-to-be‘ has to be placed before the ‗Mrs.,‘ else it sounds like you were Mrs. Something Else."
She considered that.
He gave her an arch look.
―Very well," she gave in, ―but about everything else, I am right."
―Everything?"
She smiled seductively. ―I chose you ."
―Mr. Grey and His Beloved Bride." He kissed her once, and then again. ―I think I like it."
―I love it." And she did.
Epilogue
Four years later
The key to a successful marriage," Sebastian Grey pontificated from behind his desk, ―is to marry a splendid wife."
As this was announced for no apparent reason, after an hour of companionable silence, Annabel Grey would normally have taken the statement with several grains of salt. Sebastian was not above beginning conversations with extravagant compliments when he wished to gain her approval, or at the very least agreement, about matters entirely unrelated to the aforementioned praise.
There were, however, ten things about his pronouncement that could not help but warm her heart.
One: Seb was looking particularly handsome when he said it, all warm-eyed and rumple-haired, and Two : the wife in question washer , which pertained to Three : she‘d performed all sorts of lovely wifely duties that morning, which, given their history would probably lead to Four : another gray-eyed baby in nine months, to add to the three already pitter-pattering in the nursery.
Of minor but still happy significance was Five : none of the three Grey babies looked a thing like Lord Newbury, who must have been scared witless after his collapse in Annabel‘s bedchamber four years earlier, because he‘d gone on a slimming regimen, married a widow of proven childbearing prowess, but Six : had not managed to sire another child, boy or girl.