Secluded with the Rogue

Epilogue

Epilogue

Six months later

P hillip stood at the edge of the lake near his home, holding his cane in his hands. Graham stood beside him. They didn’t speak for a long time, but rather listened to the wind rustling in the distant trees and the chatting birds. A fox cried out from somewhere in the forest. The summer sun warmed the water, and light sparkled off the lake’s surface.

“Graham, I wanted to apologize again for that night we quarreled,” Phillip said. “I said things that were untrue and unfair because I was trying to hide my own flaws.” He rolled his cane in his palms, watching the light flash off the silver knob.

Graham nodded. “I know. But you weren’t entirely false. I am a selfish bastard. Charles kept my family together, raising Ella and protecting our mother after our father died. I was a coward who ran away. I barely saw them. I didn’t want to be around them and feel the hurt of losing my father all over again. It was better to bury myself in brandy and the pursuit of widows. I didn’t even dance with Ella at her debut.”

Phillip grinned. “I owe you for that. Best night of my life until last Christmas.” Phillip hoped his friend would hear his sincerity.

“I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder for you,” Graham murmured. “That night in the tunnels. I saw you go down, and then everything just…” Graham’s voice was hoarse. “I ran.”

“You saved me,” Phillip assured him and touched the other man’s shoulder. “If you hadn’t gotten out, Charles and Lennox would never have found me in time. I would have perished in the tunnels and would be haunting them to this day.”

Graham chuckled dryly. “Lord, we are a pair, aren’t we?” Another silence settled between them, this one gentler, less strained. “At least you are to be respectable now, what with you marrying my sister.”

“I was always respectable,” Phillip said.

“I know that you and Pembroke belong to that Wicked Earls’ Club. You can’t tell me that is an establishment of saints.”

With a shake of his head, Phillip found himself grinning.

“No more wicked than Charles and his League of Rogues.”

“Fair point,” Graham said. “So, what did you bring me out here for?” He gestured to the lake.

“For this.” Phillip held up the cane. “You told me once that I relied on it too much. You were right. Ella proved that when she came back into my life. I don’t need it anymore.” He wound back his arm and threw the cane into the lake. It sank out of sight.

“Phillip, that was a waste of a perfectly good cane.” Graham chuckled.

With a groan, Phillip shot him a glare. “I was trying to make a bloody grand gesture.”

“It was certainly grand. Wasn’t the head pure silver?”

“Oh, bollocks. Maybe I should have someone go after it.”

Graham was now laughing heartily. He slapped Phillip’s back. “We should return. I suspect Ella will be looking for you by now.”

They returned to the house, Phillip keeping up with Graham without the support of the cane. His limp, which had once caused such pain, was all but gone. For the last five months, he had been visiting a doctor weekly in London who worked his muscles and put him through a thrice weekly regimen of exercises where he strengthened his leg until it once again bore the weight of his body naturally. It had been difficult some days, but Ella had been there with him, rewarding him with kisses and driving him on whenever he wanted to give up. She was a miracle—his miracle. He owed her his life, his body, and most importantly, his heart.

Graham slapped Phillip’s shoulder and smiled before he wandered off in the direction of the library.

“Ella?” Phillip called out for his wife from the main hall.

“Yes?” She came out of the morning room and smiled up at him. She looked radiant in a day dress of green silk, the embodiment of a beautiful summer day. He grasped her waist, holding her close so their foreheads touched.

“Up for a game of billiards, my love?” He gave her bottom a playful squeeze, and her breath hitched.

“Only if you agree to do that thing you did last time,” she whispered.

“The thing where I make love to you on the table?”

A strawberry blush fell upon her cheeks. “Yes, that thing.” Her fingers played with his cravat, and he smiled wickedly.

“We most certainly will do that thing.” He threaded his fingers through hers as he led her to the billiard room. Being married to Ella made every day like Christmas, even in the midst of a lovely English summer day.