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  Lenore’s smile was immediate, and she wrapped him tight in her loving arms. “I see that now, husband,” she whispered. “I feel it, too.”

  Epilogue

  Lenore rubbed her gloved fist against the foggy window of their traveling chase and peered out at the dreary white landscape. It was bitterly cold outside, but the snow had stopped falling an hour ago. She felt bad for their grooms, who had to endure the worst of it on the outside of their conveyance. There was nothing new to see outside, just miles of unending white-shrouded fields. It made playing their game to pass the time problematic.

  She glanced over at her dog, or what she could see of him under his blankets on the opposite bench. He was curled up as close as he could get to Sylvia Hillcrest, attempting to keep warm. They were a cozy little group, keeping each other amused and excited about their trip together. Sylvia and Price had reassured Lenore that the house party they were traveling to would not be torture. It was to be as gentle an introduction to the ton as was possible.

  If it wasn’t for the cold, or the endless rocking, Lenore would be quite happy to go on traveling forever. But she couldn’t, of course. Sylvia was only to spend the winter with them, and then return to London and her cousins as the season began. Hero would probably miss Sylvia as much as Lenore would. “I spy with my little eye—”

  “Hero,” Price declared with a laugh.

  “No. Just wait a moment,” she cried.

  “You were looking right at him, love,” her husband insisted.

  “But I wasn’t about to repeat myself.”

  Price heaved a sigh and pulled Lenore close, covering her up again. He nuzzled her ear, and a blush heated her cheeks. “What letter then?” he whispered.

  They had been playing games for hours as they traveled toward their final destination. It was a long way from London to the Duke of Exeter’s estate. Hero had borne the confinement better than they all had. Sylvia had chosen to sleep for most of the trip. A feat Lenore had not mastered at all. “I spy with my little eye, something beginning with H.”

  “Hero!” Price cried out again. “Every third H has been him.”

  “It is not our dog,” Lenore promised.

  Price stared around the carriage. “Handle? That bunch of holly you just had to bring along from our last stop?”

  Lenore smiled, loving how hard Price tried to guess each and every time. “No, to both.”

  “Well, I hate to say it, but I must give up. I’ve no idea what this one could be.”

  She looked up at his face and smiled. She had gotten so lucky when she’d agreed to marry him. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, you win.” He waggled his brows. “This time.”

  “Husband.”

  “Yes?”

  “Husband,” she said with a little more emphasis.

  “But that was much too obvious!” he cried.

  She laughed softly. “Happiness, then?”

  His arms tightened around her, and he bent down to kiss her lips lightly. “Happiness indeed,” he promised, whispering in her ear.

  Lenore loved it when his voice became husky and deep like that.

  Sylvia suddenly unwrapped herself from her blankets with a groan. “Are we there yet?” she cried. “You two really need to be alone for a good long while soon.”

  “Sorry, Sylvia,” she apologized with a laugh.

  “My deepest apologies again, Miss Hillcrest.” Price said too. “It’s Lenore’s fault.”

  Lenore gave him a playful shove. “It’s your fault, too.”

  Sylvia stretched. “It’s love,” she declared with a smile. “Proof undeniable.”

  Lenore kissed her husband again, and then settled against him, pulling up the blankets to her chin. “How much longer?”

  “We’re close now,” he promised.

  She looked up at him. “Do you think they will give Sylvia a room close to ours?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “I’ll be fine wherever they put me,” Sylvia promised. “As long as I can be warmer than I am now, I’d be happy anywhere.”

  “Poor Sylvia. You should get yourself a husband,” Lenore suggested. “They make excellent warmers.”

  “I’ll have to mention that advantage to future clients,” Sylvia replied dryly. “If my gentlemen clients made sure to mention that first off when they go down on bended knee, they’d never be refused and would not need my help.”

  Price chuckled at that. “What about a husband for you, Miss Hillcrest? Ever felt the urge to tie the knot, too?”

  “Not in the least,” Sylvia insisted with a disdainful huff.

  “I’m surprised by that. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ve the sort of managing disposition many a gentlemen need in their lives.” Price squeezed Lenore. “I have my perfect partner in Lenore.”

  “Thanks to poor penmanship and a barrel of gin,” Lenore teased.

  “It was cider.” Price trailed his fingers across her cheek. “I’ll forever be grateful for your patience, though,” he whispered, and then she could feel him leaning down to kiss her.

  “Are we there yet?” Sylvia wailed.

  The kiss never happened because they all began to laugh. Their ease together had been apparent all along.

  “Oh, look!” Price cried out suddenly. “There is Grafton Park.”

  They all tuned to stare out the foggy windows, rushing to clear them for a better view. In the distance, a mammoth structure rose from the foggy landscape into the clearing sky. Lenore blinked and gaped at the size of the ducal estate. Beneath the fog, the rest of the building was merely a shadow under the pearly whiteness. It seemed to Lenore to be almost a mile long.

  “I really thought it would be bigger,” Sylvia said sarcastically.

  Lenore giggled.

  “Please don’t let the duke hear you say that,” Price warned. “He’d start building a new wing just to impress us all.”

  “He wouldn’t,” Lenore said, her eyes fixed on the looming structure. Surely it was already big enough for a duke. “Didn’t you say he was working on the landscape?”

  “I heard he intended to completely transform the park, but I doubt he’ll begin until us guests have gone,” Price explained.

  More of Grafton Park became visible, and Lenore was in awe. She bit her lip. Most likely she’d get herself lost on her first day. Thank heavens she wouldn’t be alone. She had Price and Sylvia to mount a search for her. Hero, too.

  Her nerves returned, and when Price caught hold of her fingers, she realized he knew what she was thinking without her having to explain. “It’s going to be an adventure,” he promised.

  She nodded. “That it will be.”

  They finally arrived beneath a towering pillared portico. Footmen swarmed out of the house as soon as they came to a complete stop, and Lenore reluctantly moved away from her husband’s warmth in readiness to exit.

  The cold outside was bracing, and she shivered before she even reached the front door. They were quickly ushered into a reception room where a roaring fire burned in the hearth. Lenore’s cheeks tingled.

  “Oh, I may never leave this room,” Sylvia whispered as she nearly climbed into the hearth to warm herself.

  “Be careful your skirts don’t catch,” Lenore warned.

  “I am,” Sylvia promised and did draw back a little. “Can I have one this size at home?”

  “You’ll need a bigger house,” Price advised, as he too joined them by the fire and rubbed his hand before the heat. “The duke has married now, so is off the market, but maybe you could find a gentleman with one of similar size somewhere.”

  “He’d have to be rich,” Sylvia said absently as she turned to warm her other side. “Obscenely rich, and blind, too.”

  “Well, there you have it. We’ll have you settled with a hearth this big before the month is over,” Price promised, laughing.

  Sylvia was about to reply when the doors cracked open again. An older gentleman strode into the room with a han
dsome woman of similar age at his side. “Finally!” the man cried. “I was just considering whether it would be necessary to mount a search.”

  Price bowed. “We ran into bad weather, Exeter.”

  His grace nodded, and then he smiled warmly at the woman by his side. “Kitty. This is the cur who stole our chef.”

  “And you have him back,” Price protested.

  “Just as well.” The duke slipped his arm around the woman’s back and grinned. “Carmichael, this is my wife Kitty, the Duchess of Exeter.”

  Lenore hurried to curtsy to the woman, and so did Sylvia.

  Price bowed deeply, too. “Your grace, it is an honor to finally meet you. Congratulations on your marriage.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” the woman murmured. “Welcome to Grafton Park. I hope you enjoy your stay with us.”

  “I’m sure we will.” Price drew Lenore forward. “And this is my wife, Lenore.”

  “A pleasure.”

  The duchess smiled kindly on her, and then at Sylvia. “You must be exhausted after your journey.”

  “Cold,” Sylvia murmured, and Price hurried to introduce Sylvia, too.

  “You’ll soon thaw once we get you upstairs,” the duke promised.

  The duchess ushered them to her side. “Let’s get you settled in and changed out of those damp gowns before you catch a chill. Most of the ladies have gathered around the great fire in the west drawing room.”

  Lenore reluctantly followed the duchess, but noticed that Price was trailing after them at the duke’s side. The pair seemed to be very friendly and informal as they started to talk.

  “So you finally married,” Price noted.

  “So did you,” his grace replied with a smile. “You look happy.”

  “So do you, too,” Price replied, and then chuckled. “So how is my chef enjoying his holiday with you?”

  “He is my chef, and he’s very happy, thank you very much,” the duke insisted. “Don’t you dare try to steal him away again.”

  “I didn’t even try very hard the last time,” he joked.

  The duchess ran back to the duke and slipped her arm through his, pulling him along. “Now, now, darling. Don’t squabble over the poor chef on the first day. There will be plenty of time for that later, after he’s served up the feast for your party.”

  The duke quickly kissed her cheek. “As you wish, my love.”

  Price put his arm around Lenore and pulled her close, too. The duke and duchess of Exeter grinned and led the way, whispering to each other like a pair of young lovers. Like she and Price often did when they were alone.

  As Sylvia followed after the duke and duchess, Lenore grinned up at her husband, her anxiety fading away. “This is going to be a very good Christmas, isn’t it?”

  “The very best,” Price promised as he hugged her close before hurrying her along to their chambers where they could finally be alone again.

  The Distinguished Rogues will continue…

  Dear Reader…

  Losing someone you love is hard and no amount of time is ever enough to get over it. When I first wrote Lord Carmichael into a story (back in Married by Moonlight), I never imaged I'd finish his story in a state of grief, too.

  My father passed away just as I was nearing completion of this story. Losing dad is such a shock to me. He was a larger than life figure in my life. I miss him terribly.

  I truly hope I have given you, dear reader, the romance you and Carmichael deserve.

  Much love,

  Heather

  The Distinguished Rogues Series

  Book 1: Chills (FREE READ)

  The rogue she can’t have is the only one she wants.

  * * *

  Book 2: Broken

  His wicked ways could be the best hope for her future.

  * * *

  Book 3: Charity

  Reclaiming the love of his life is bound to break a few rules.

  * * *

  Book 4: An Accidental Affair

  Being good was a damned nuisance!

  * * *

  Book 5: Keepsake

  The runaway bride is back to cause trouble!

  * * *

  Book 6: An Improper Proposal

  Educating the innocent might have been a mistake.

  * * *

  Book 7: Reason to Wed

  Duty is the last thing on his mind once they kiss.

  * * *

  Book 8: The Trouble with Love

  Keeping a promise has never been harder!

  * * *

  Book 9: Married by Moonlight

  The marriage mart is murder!

  * * *

  Book 10: Lord of Sin

  In the battle between love and duty, the heart has the most to lose…

  * * *

  Book 11: The Duke's Heart

  He’s looking for love…just not for himself!

  More Regency Romance From Heather…

  Wild Randalls Series

  Book 1: Engaging the Enemy

  Book 2: Forsaking the Prize

  Book 3: Guarding the Spoils

  Book 4: Hunting the Hero

  * * *

  Saints and Sinners Series

  Book 1: The Duke and I

  Book 2: A Gentleman’s Vow

  Book 3: An Earl of Her Own

  * * *

  Rebel Hearts Series

  Book 1: The Wedding Affair

  Book 2: An Affair of Honor

  Book 3: The Christmas Affair

  Book 4: An Affair so Right

  * * *

  Miss Mayhem Series

  Book 1: Miss Watson’s First Scandal

  Book 2: Miss George’s Second Chance

  Book 3: Miss Radley’s Third Dare

  Book 4: Miss Merton’s Last Hope

  See the full book list…

  About Heather

  USA Today Bestselling Author Heather Boyd believes every character she creates deserves their own happily-ever-after—no matter how much trouble she puts them through. With that goal in mind, she writes steamy romances that skirt the boundaries of propriety to keep readers enthralled until the wee hours of the morning. Heather has published over 40 regency romance novels and shorter works full of daring seductions and distinguished rogues. She lives north of Sydney, Australia, with her trio of rogues and pair of four-legged overlords.

  * * *

  You can find details of her work at

  Heather-Boyd.com

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