Stolen by the Ruthless Duke (Stolen by the Duke #2)

Epilogue

THREE MONTHS LATER

“ Y ou have kept your word,” Ophelia mused, smiling as they entered the ballroom in Stormcliff Hall. “You have let me host the grandest balls.”

“Let you?” Maxwell laughed, patting her hand where it rested in the crook of his elbow.

They wore matching colors—Maxwell had donned a tailcoat of the deepest wine red, and Ophelia’s dress matched, paired with white silk gloves.

“Yes,” she teased. “You let me. Or rather, you have agreed.”

“I do not think I was given much of a choice.”

“That is true.”

She gave him a playful smile as they descended into their red-themed ball, where everything glistened with the color, from the lights to the tablecloths. Many guests had chosen not to wear the theme color so audaciously as Ophelia had, but there was the glimmer of earrings, a necklace, gloves, a hairpiece.

She was pleased.

“Your parties, I hear, have become quite renowned across Sussex,” Maxwell said. “I overheard an earl talk about his excitement to attend tonight when I was at the tavern with Freddie several days ago. You are doing well, Duchess.”

The praise spread a comforting warmth over chest. During the last three months, Ophelia had come into her duties far more gracefully than she ever thought possible.

“I would not have been able to do half as well had I not had the help of my husband.”

“Indeed, you are a perfect duke for a perfect duchess.” Freddie’s voice interrupted them as he draped his arms over their shoulders, entering the ballroom behind them. “Good evening, both of you.”

“Evening, Freddie,” Maxwell greeted. “I thought you were not coming tonight.”

“Ah. I changed my mind after Ophelia told me Lucy would be in attendance. It has become… something of a tradition for me to offer her either her first or second dance of the ball until she finds a suitor.”

His cheeks flushed, and Ophelia bit her smile, understanding perfectly.

Maxwell, on the other hand, still seemed oblivious. “Excellent. It is kind of you to support her. In fact, her suitors have been slower this past month or so. I worry she is not getting as much attention as she used to.”

Again, Ophelia knew why that was.

“Perhaps you could enter with her tonight. Walking in on the arm of the Viscount Rowe is bound to catch the eyes of some of her suitors.”

Freddie cringed, glancing at Ophelia. “Yes. Well, speaking of, where might I find her?”

“She was last seen in the playroom with James.” Her brother had settled well into life at Stormcliff. “I imagine she is bidding him good night before he retires to bed.”

“I shall go and find her.”

Maxwell nodded, and Freddie darted away.

Ophelia and Maxwell walked further into the ballroom.

“Maxwell, do you think your cousin will be wed soon?”

“Hopefully by spring, yes. I am in no rush to see her out of Stormcliff, of course, but I believe she is the one who wishes to leave soon. She likes it here, but I think it is becoming harder for her to stay within these walls.”

Ophelia nodded, remembering when Lucy had expressed the same sentiment to her. “Shall we?” She gestured to the dancefloor.

After their dance, Maxwell frowned, looking at the double doors to the ballroom. “There is no sign of Freddie or Lucy. I do hope Lucy has not gotten nervous again. Her lack of suitors must have dealt a blow to her confidence.” He shook his head. “She has only just gotten it back, fully.”

“I am sure she is fine.”

“Let us check on her.”

Maxwell’s brow furrowed, and he made to run his hand through his hair until he realized it was styled back with a ribbon at his neck, the red matching his jacket. They walked out of the ballroom, first checking the playroom, finding it empty.

Maxwell frowned. “Wherever could they be?”

Ophelia’s stomach fluttered with nerves and excitement for the couple. Had they stolen a moment alone together?

“Perhaps the garden?”

“It is rather cold, but perhaps.”

Just as they were about to turn around and go through one of the entrances to the garden, muffled voices sounded from behind the parlor door, followed by giggles.

Maxwell paused.

“What if he finds us?” That was Lucy’s voice.

Ophelia paused, but Maxwell only listened harder, his brows knitting together. “That is Lucy,” he whispered.

Without another second, he opened the door to the parlor.

“Freddie!” he shouted.

Freddie and Lucy huddled against the far wall, almost pressed into the corner, as if staying away from the window. Freddie’s hands rested on Lucy’s waist, and her gloved fingers rested on his shoulders, her head tilted as they broke their kiss.

Lucy’s lips, pink and swollen, parted in surprise. “Cousin!”

“Lucy?” Maxwell gasped. “What on earth?” He turned his gaze to Freddie. “ You .”

“Maxwell!” Ophelia said, trying to pull him back, but he was already storming toward the couple.

“You!” he shouted. “You were my most trusted friend!”

“I am your only friend, you— Maxwell !”

Maxwell pulled back his arm, ready to punch Freddie. He had grabbed him by the collar, his lips twisted into a snarl.

“Cousin, stop!” Lucy cried out, tugging at his elbow. “Stop! Please. Release him.”

“Oh, I will release him, all right. Right into the lake outside, and hope he walks all the way home in the cold.”

“Maxwell,” Freddie groaned. “Do not act so foolishly. I am not one of your boxing opponents.”

“I do not fight anymore, as you well know.”

“Then stop being such a brute and let me go.”

Maxwell cocked his head. “You call me a brute and you kiss my cousin?”

“Oh, come off it?—”

Maxwell made to punch him again, and Ophelia attempted to pull him away, but she and Lucy were no match for his bulk.

“Maxwell, we are in love!”

Lucy’s declaration echoed through the parlor, stilling Maxwell’s actions.

He stiffened. “I beg your pardon?”

“We… we are in love, Cousin. He does not kiss me to play with my heart or to be insincere. He kisses me as he has kissed me for a short while now.”

Maxwell slowly turned to look at Lucy, his mouth opening and closing.

“Oh, do close your mouth, Maxwell. You look like a fish. Or would you like to go into the lake with Freddie?”

Silence fell over the room. Ophelia had been proud of how Lucy had grown more confident. Lucy always had been quite able to talk back to Maxwell, but now, more than ever, she challenged him.

Ophelia believed that he respected his cousin for it—but, of course, not at that moment.

“You… you are in love?” he questioned. “Since when ?”

“Since—” Lucy paused. “Since possibly the beginning. Only, I was too blind to see it. Do you see how I have not had any suitors for a while? This is why. I have already found the man I wish to marry.”

“You have?” Maxwell and Freddie both asked.

Freddie’s face lit up as if it was the first time he had heard it.

“Of course I have.” Lucy giggled.

Ophelia finally pulled Maxwell back, cupping his face. “I know you are upset, but the match has been rather obvious from the start. It was why Freddie accompanied Lucy and me to so many balls. Yes, he looked out for her, but they also grew closer. It began as support, for other bachelors to see Lucy with a man of his status, but then it naturally happened for them. Be happy for your cousin and your friend, Maxwell. Do not turn their happiness into something sour simply because you have not noticed what everybody else has already seen.”

“I…” Maxwell trailed off, looking between her and his cousin. “I feel rather foolish, actually.” He regarded Freddie. “That is the tradition you have—to dance with Lucy first or second. That is why.”

“Yes,” Freddie admitted. “And then I spent the rest of the ball watching her dance with others so she was able to keep up the pretense until we could tell you.” He stepped forward, tugging at his collar as if embarrassed. “Maxwell, this was not how I intended to ask you, but… I wish for your blessing to marry Lucy. She is a remarkable woman, and I see her—I see all of her. The shadows in her mind, the sunlight in her voice, the beauty in her soul. I know her, and I know you, but most importantly, I know the truth. I know her truth, and I will keep it safe and honored, as I will Lucy herself.”

He stepped closer, clapping Maxwell on the back. “I love her, Max. I love her, and I do not wish to deny either of us happiness by being too cowardly to ask for this blessing. Grant it, my friend. Please.”

Maxwell scowled until Ophelia nudged his shoulder. “Our marriage was not entirely conventional,” she reminded him delicately. “Theirs is a love match. That is not the most common thing.”

Maxwell hesitated. “Yes. Yes, of course, you have my blessing. I was merely taken by surprise and did not expect to walk in on such a scene. You may marry my cousin, Freddie. I would not see her with any other man.”

“Maxwell!” Lucy cried happily, rushing to him and throwing her arms around him. “Thank you.”

After a moment, the Duke hugged his cousin back. “I wish you a lifetime of happiness, Lucy.”

Back at the ball, Freddie announced his engagement to Lucy, and Ophelia was happy to notice several dejected looks from other gentlemen.

She lingered at the terrace doors, standing next to her husband, feeling utterly blissful. “I did not think I would see a day like this. My friends are happy. My husband is at my side—loves and cares for me. My brother is happier here with me than he ever was.”

“You were kept from this sort of life for too long,” Maxwell said, his voice hard. “But you are here now, and you are safe.” He took her hands in his, turning her to him. “I will keep you safe forever, my Duchess. Arabella has left England with her shame, and she will not return to hurt you.”

“No,” Ophelia whispered. “No, she will not.” Her smile widened. “And soon, there will be more joyous celebrations, I imagine. Bridget got married last week. Undoubtedly, there will be another announcement.”

“I imagine the carriage ride from London to Stormcliff when she was found was rather eventful for them,” Maxwell teased.

Bridget had indeed married one of the servants who had been with the steward leading the search.

“Perhaps…” Ophelia hesitated. “Perhaps we’ll make an announcement of our own one day. You have been excellent with James, Maxwell. You doubted yourself so much at the start of our guardianship of him, but he loves being around you. You would make a truly wonderful father.” She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder as they looked out into the garden. “Dare I say, our children will grow up as happy with us as their parents as I did with my own.”

Maxwell composed himself, standing straighter. “Ophelia, are you trying to tell me that you are pregnant?”

She giggled. “No, I am not?—”

“Then perhaps we should work on rectifying that situation.” His voice lowered, his lips brushing her cheek.

“Really?” Hope rose in her chest.

Maxwell nodded, his smirk widening. “A family with you, Ophelia… It was never something I could see. But now? Now, it is all I think about. I can see it. Our children, the stories we would tell them, the happiness we would have. The violent era of the Hardings would be over. With you, I wish to start a new era.”

“Then we shall have it,” Ophelia swore.

Maxwell bent his head close to hers, his lips brushing against hers. She chased his lips with hers, laughing as they bumped noses, perfectly content.

When he kissed her properly, she saw the future she had always wanted. A love match—a family born from that love match, as her parents had been blessed with.

It was all she had ever asked for.

The End?