“I know you will, and I must keep my promises as well. Leaving is something I need to do. Perhaps I could go to my cottage for a few days. It is much closer than Devon.”

  He frowned at the mention of the tiny cottage Amelia had inherited and delivered into his keeping upon their wedding day. He hadn’t imagined any situation where she might stay there, for any length of time. She had a home waiting for her and should have given up on the cottage the moment she’d married him. “For how long do you wish to be away from me?”

  “Until these feelings leave me,” she whispered—then seeming horrified as she quickly covered her lips.

  She’d not meant to say that out loud, he’d wager…and Milo’s heart skipped a beat.

  He took a step in her direction. “What feelings?”

  She shook her head.

  Milo dared to hope, until he noticed her tension. She was wound tighter than a drum, and about to bolt, he feared. “What feelings, Amelia?”

  She lifted her eyes to his. They were wide with fear. “I don’t know what they are, but I can’t have them,” she whispered.

  Her eyes dropped away again, and it was as if a door had slammed closed on the life they were building together.

  The love barely begun.

  His heart started beating fast as he realized the source of her distress was him, and those feelings that neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

  But Amelia was not just a necessary wife anymore.

  She was essential to his happiness.

  He had fallen hard. It was raw, and it terrified him, too. It was always there, in the way they reached for each other in the dead of night. The way she silently drew him in closer and gave herself without reservation.

  They were in love, and Amelia was desperate to run from it.

  He could not let her go.

  “What if those feelings don’t leave you?”

  “They have to.”

  Her anguish only made him smile. “Well, I don’t want you to leave me.”

  “But I shouldn’t feel anything. I promised!” Her fingers trembled over her lips again. “I can still be your wife, faithful to you alone, and a mother to your children, even if we live separate lives. It was what I expected all along.”

  “It was for me, too,” he agreed.

  “If you leave, or I leave, one of us will always remain with the children. I won’t complain if it’s you that goes.”

  “But you’ll miss me,” he suggested, and fought not to laugh at how stupid this all was when she nodded. “How did I ever think I could marry a woman and keep a distance?” He caught her cold fingers in his and squeezed them tight. “I don’t want to leave you, Amelia,” he swore, kissing them. “I’ve been so very wrong. I don’t always know what is best for me, but I was right about your place in my life. We have so much more to learn about each other. We cannot do that if we live separate lives.”

  “But I cannot do this!” she cried out, wrenching her hand from his as she turned away. “Please don’t make me.”

  She put her hands over her face and sobbed behind them. Milo caught her in his arms again, his heart swelling with love for the woman he held.

  She was breaking her own heart to keep her word and didn’t realize it was no longer necessary. She’d break his heart if he couldn’t see her every day. “What don’t you want to do?”

  Her hands dropped from her face. “Pretend that I don’t want you to hold me like this all the time.”

  That was all he wanted, too.

  They felt the same.

  Exactly the same.

  The impulses that plagued him to be near her, the unwanted suspicions and jealousy, tormented her, as well. He knew exactly what to do to fix things, but he was going to break a promise to her when he did.

  He’d vowed not to love a second wife, but he well and truly did.

  He adored Amelia.

  She’d made him love again.

  He turned her around to face him and held her hands tight between his against his chest. “Amelia…do you have any idea how much effort it takes not to reach for you because I fear I might go too far?”

  Her eyes widened in shock at his confession.

  “I cannot get enough of you,” he whispered. “And there is a reason for that.”

  Amelia blushed. “I, too, feel strong desires…”

  “It’s so much more than desire between us.” He smoothed his thumbs over the back of her fingers, trying to prepare her. “I tremble whenever you are near. I long to follow you about like the smitten fool I promised not to be. My dear—I am afraid I love you. I have loved you for some time but was too blind to understand what I was feeling. I was a coward.”

  Amelia froze. “No. That’s not possible.”

  Milo smiled. “Why is it impossible for me to love you? You are my wife. You are everything I need. Sweet and kind and very, very appealing. We have shared countless hours together in perfect symmetry.”

  “That is different. That was passion.”

  “Can passion and love ever truly be separated? Just like us, they are irretrievably bound together. I was a fool to think I could keep my heart at arms length.”

  Amelia looked panicked. “When we are apart, you’ll recover your senses.”

  “Will you do the same? Truly? Can you turn off your heart at will?” He cupped her face and smiled. “I know I never could. And I do not want to imagine doing so ever again. I love you, Amelia Westfall, with my whole heart and my soul. Unburdened by past regret and filled with hope for the future with you. My place is now and irrevocably by your side, striving to make all your dreams come true. A family, a home, a garden, and a child of ours. Or dozens if you desire more. We cannot have the life we dream of if we are not beside each other.”

  Amelia’s breath shuddered out of her.

  He bent his lips to her ear. “You mended my heart, and claimed it for your own.”

  He waited patiently, knowing they had been heading for this moment all along. Surrendering to love a second time wasn’t ever going to be easy, but it was what he wanted now. What they needed to be truly happy. This was no mistake.

  It was meant to be.

  This was love.

  He had done everything wrong, but there was not a damn thing he would change about that or the woman he held. He had chosen a good woman to become his wife, his duchess one day, to become his friend and lover. To learn all his secrets and dreams and be the recipient of hers.

  They matched in every way that mattered.

  Amelia slumped a little, and her body finally pressed against his. He raised an arm around her shoulders and pulled her even closer. She sobbed, and he didn’t mind the emotions pulling at his heart anymore.

  “Don’t cry, my love,” he said, pressing his lips to her brow. “There is nothing to fear. I love you, and I’m never letting you go. I’ll follow you to the ends of the Earth declaring my undying love if you try, even if you’d rather to move to your cottage so you can garden to your heart’s content.”

  She laughed. “I tried so hard not to love you, but how can I not when you offer everything I want and more.”

  Tears filled his eyes. He was undone. He was loved. He kissed her brow again and again, tightened his grip on her, joyously smitten.

  Love a second time was precious. “We’re going home tomorrow, my love. I want to take you to your garden, and we’ll stay there for Christmas, too.”

  She looked up at him quickly, wiping away her tears and then his. “What about the duke? Your family and the estate? He might never approve of me.”

  Milo put his fingers over her lips gently. “I approve of you, and that is all that matters. We need a place to be alone so we can fall even deeper into this love.” He moved his fingers to brush the moisture clinging to her lashes. “Besides, I’m keen to hear you play the harp, naked perhaps—if I can persuade you to be so bold.”

  Amelia blushed and laughed softly. “Will you always make love to me in scandalous places?”

  He thought a moment, then smirked. “Yes, I do believe I will. There are carriages, under the full moon in your garden, against a wall. Anywhere and any way you’ll have me, darling.”

  “That sounds wonderful. Having you all to myself,” Amelia said, as she wrapped her arms about his neck before she drew him down for a heated kiss that was in danger of going on forever.

  Milo could only hope so.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  After a while in Milo’s arms, Amelia became aware of people clearing their throats nearby.

  They turned together and discovered the duke, Lucy and Adam standing on the terrace steps. The duke bent down to whisper to the children and they fled inside.

  The duke came out to join them, scowling. “Finally, you stop,” Stapleton complained.

  Amelia turned her face into Milo’s chest, embarrassed by her behavior, and whispered, “What do we do?”

  “Allow me,” he said, then turned Amelia to face his father and put an arm about her waist. He held her firmly to his side, and she squirmed as he tickled her. Even if this was what she’d wanted all along, her husband’s love and proof of it for anyone to see was a little overwhelming.

  “Father, we’re headed to Devon tomorrow, whether you approve of our marriage or not,” Milo stated.

  The duke raised a brow. “Now that, I am pleased to here. About time you admitted to loving each other, too,” His Grace answered with a smirk. “This nonsense about a marriage of convenience sat ill on my heart.”

  “We noticed,” Milo said, scowling.

  “The rest will sort itself out in the years to come, I expect. Welcome to the family, Amelia. The duchy will be in good hands when Gillian and I are gone, if you truly love my son enough to have put up with his foolishness.”

  “I do love Chatham,” Amelia promised. “We have many dreams to make come true for each other.”

  “Of course, you love my son. You are a woman of sense and good taste,” he said, shocking her with unexpected praise. “I do apologize for my initial unkind reception to the news of your marriage. As I hoped, he stuck by his decision, though I admit to being vexed with him for taking so long to admit he cared about you. He should have said he felt something much sooner than this. Your marriage will be good for him.”

  She gaped at the duke. “I hope so, Your Grace.”

  “Excellent. Take care of each other and my grandchildren, and come back to visit when you have time to spare and a few more offspring to show me.”

  “We will,” she promised.

  The duke inclined his head and backed away.

  When they were alone again in the garden, Milo raised her chin until their eyes met. “Darling, could I suggest you use my given name on every possible occasion from now on. Even in front of my father. He does hate formality in the family.”

  A soft smile tugged at her lips. “Yes, Milo.”

  “Amelia, my love,” he sighed, brushing his fingers across her cheek.

  “Milo,” she whispered, and then after a moment added, “darling,” watching for his reaction.

  “Dearest Amelia,” he replied. “I love you more than words can say.”

  She rose up on her toes so that her lips grazed his ear as her grip around his neck firmed. “Can this be real? Do you really love me?”

  “I swear it’s true, and it always will be.” Milo wrapped his arms about her, then on second thought, swept her up into his arms. Amelia barely held on to her posy of flowers as he twirled her about until she became dizzy.

  He kept hold of her as he headed toward the manor. “Milo, what are you doing? I can walk.”

  “I am correcting another mistake I made. I neglected to carry my bride over the threshold, and I don’t believe anyone will miss us for a while, or if they do, Father will explain.”

  Milo carried her back inside the manor, up to their bedchamber, seemingly ready to prove she was indeed loved.

  When her feet touched the floor, Milo did not release her immediately. He kissed her and only let go long enough to set her flowers aside. They stripped each other bare, and she could barely contain her anticipation as they crawled onto the bed together, laughing and kissing each other everywhere.

  Marriage and Milo were everything she needed in life, and she would never take this second chance for granted. Milo had made her believe in love, and she’d never forget again.

  EPILOGUE

  Milo lifted up his young son from the nursery floor and tickled the wriggling toddler under the arms. “Where is your mama, my boy?”

  “Mama is in the garden, of course,” Lucy told him, tickling her baby brother, too, and giggling with him. She took him from Milo and handed him to a waiting nursemaid. “It’s past time for your breakfast, Papa.”

  “Of course. We had better fetch Mama and sit down together,” he said, knowing exactly where to find her.

  Amelia had organized everyone, and Lucy had finally found her place in their growing family as her second in command. She was now the happiest he’d ever seen her. Amelia’s constancy and patient mothering had been exactly what the girl needed to thrive. “Shall we find her together?”

  Lucy beamed. “I’d like that.”

  Amelia spent a good part of every day tending her projects alone, though. When the weather was good, she was always outdoors, and when the weather was bad, she carried an umbrella, though rarely held it over her head. The estate had flourished in the last few years under her constant care and attention, and the house and grounds had never looked more lovely or welcoming.

  He led his daughter down the stairs and along to the new garden bed Amelia was planting out. He admired the view of her derriere even as exasperation filled him.

  At eight months pregnant, she ought not to be down on her knees planting bulbs and whatnot for the spring to come.

  But he knew better than to do more than hint she should rest. Amelia had her own ideas of what she was capable of when it came to her physicality. For example, she loved nothing more than to ride him into exhaustion in their bed. Unlike his previous wife, who, once she became pregnant with first Lucy and then Adam, had denied Milo any pleasure in their marriage.

  That was not Amelia’s way.

  Amelia was not selfish or cold or ever distant. She craved him close and never neglected their children.

  “This is coming along well,” he called out to her.

  “Yes,” she agreed, sitting back on her haunches and smiling at the still-brown expanse around her. “This is finished, and now we must wait for the spring.” Amelia thrust her hand out toward him, and Milo quickly rushed to help his wife rise. She groaned as she did so, rubbing her lower back. “Not a moment too soon, either,” she murmured, setting her hand on her large belly. “I cannot garden when this lad kicks so much.”

  Milo nodded but wisely kept his mouth shut and a smirk off his face. Amelia was most offended by the kicking of their unborn children.

  This latest was their third child together, and he hoped for a girl this time. Someone for Lucy to share her dolls with one day. But Amelia was certain it was another boy, and he dared not contradict her. She became increasingly irritated by disagreement and impatient as she waited for the baby to come.

  He brought her out of the garden bed to stand under the shade of a nearby tree, where she could cool herself. Lucy crowded close to her, whispering encouragement to the baby within her belly to hurry up.

  Amelia laughed a little. “Where is Adam?”

  “Uncle Anthony took him fishing,” Lucy informed her, drawing back.

  Amelia’s eyes flew to Milo’s. “Then where is Nathan and Grant then?”

  He put a hand on her shoulder. “Grant is with the nursemaid, and Nathan is with Uncle Anthony and Adam. Don’t worry, I sent a pair of servants along to help keep an eye on them all.”

  “Good, my brother can hardly manage one nephew, but two…impossible.” Amelia suddenly shifted back to rest against the tree, wincing and rubbing the sides of her belly. “Oh, please stop, darling,” she told the moving lump under her gown. “I promise to rest now.”

  Amelia talked to their unborn children constantly, almost as much as she did to their living ones.

  “Do you really think that will work this time?”

  She sighed. “Not really, but I have to try. Sometimes it soothes them.”

  “It soothes all of us to see you like this. In your garden, surrounded by our children.”

  She reached out with hands covered in dirt and caressed his face. “You well and truly kept your promise on that score, my love,”

  “I failed not to love you, though,” he teased.

  Amelia laughed. “I made the same foolish promise to you in the beginning, don’t forget. How much better is my life with love returned?”

  “We love in equal measure, my dear,” he promised, clasping her hands and raising them to his lips. “And our love will only grow stronger every day we are together.”

  She blew out a sharp breath. “We are happy only because we learned to trust again.”

  “We did indeed, and it was exactly what we needed.” He put his hand on her belly—just as Amelia cried out in alarm.

  Milo drew back, staring at her face. “What?

  Amelia glanced down. “My waters just broke.”

  He put his hand onto her belly and felt a contraction.

  The baby wasn’t expected for another month, or so the midwife kept telling them. “Perhaps you fell the month before, as I suspected all along?”

  Amelia cried out again, doubling over and clutching her belly. “Oh dear.”

  “What is it?”

  “I think the baby is coming. Immediately. I want to bear down.” She started to pant and ease herself down to the ground. “Milo. This baby won’t wait.”

  Milo fell to his knees beside his wife, prepared to scoop her up into his arms and rush her back to the manor and the birthing room that was ready and waiting for this day. “I’ll get you back to the house, never fear.”

  She held his hand on her belly.

  “We’ll never make it,” she warned, curling up and gasping as a contraction came almost on top of the last one. She fell back against the tree, gasping.