“We must come back then, when the heathers are in bloom.”

Her skirts whipped in the fresh, briny breeze. A particularly lively gale almost blew her hat away. She laughed as she clamped onto the crown of the hat with one hand. Her other hand slipped into his, her grip warm and light.

His heart lurched: It was her. It was always her for whom he’d waited all these years.

“I used to have this idea of a perfect companion,” he said.

She glanced at him, a mischievous look in her eyes. “I’m going to bet she is nothing like me.”

“Actually, she was nothing like me. I made her my opposite in every way. She was simple, content, with no deceit to her—no darkness, and no history.”

She turned more fully toward him, her expression now a solemn curiosity. “Was she your Capri?”

Of course she would understand, but his heart still swelled with gratitude. “Yes, she was my Capri. But whereas your Capri was an aspiration, mine had become a crutch. Even after I’d fallen in love with you, I tried to cling to her. In fact, I opted to drive you away and lose any possibility of a future together rather than acknowledge that perhaps my Capri had a limited life span and the end of its time had come.”

Her hand squeezed his. “Are you sure you are ready to let it go?”

“Yes.” At long last. “And I’m going to let go of far more than that. I think it’s time I had another ‘accident.’”

Her jaw dropped. “You are resigning your service as an agent to the Crown?”

“I’d always wanted a seat in the House of Commons until the day came when I had to take my father’s in the Upper House instead. And then I learned the truth about my mother’s death. My own plans became irrelevant. Instead, I devoted myself to a vengeance that could never be mine. But with another ‘accident,’ I could claim that I’d recovered and go from there.”

She only gazed at him, wide-eyed.

Doubt suddenly assailed him. “Do you think it’s too extravagant an idea, to take my seat in the House of Lords?”

“No, absolutely not. I’m only amazed at all the changes that have been and will be taking place in your life.” She touched a hand to his brow. “Will you be happy in the House of Lords?”

“No. It’s full of self-important reactionaries: I was ever so incensed when they vetoed the Irish Home Rule bill in ’ninety-three.” He smiled at her. “But somebody should be there to tell them that they are nothing but a ragtag collection of self-important reactionaries.”

“In that case, I shall act appropriately mystified in the beginning, as my husband abruptly metamorphoses from the idiot I much esteemed to a man whose intellect and learning are quite beyond my grasp. And then, under his patient, obliging tutelage, I shall discover hidden cerebral prowess of my own.” She nodded. “Yes, I think it’s doable. When is this new ‘accident’ of yours to take place?”

He was torn between mirth and admiration at how she planned to handle the demands of this, her last great role.

“The timing and the precise tactics we can decide later. There is something much more urgent I must take care of first. Now, in fact.”

She tilted her face up. “What is it?”

The bruises were still faintly visible, but they did not distract from her beauty: He only loved her more for her valor.

“As much as I subsequently tried to deny it, I have loved you from the moment I first saw you. Lady Vere, would you do me the immense honor of remaining married to me?”

She gasped softly, then giggled. “Is this a proposal, Lord Vere?”

“It is.” He hadn’t expected it, but his heart was beating fast. “Please say yes.”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I would. Nothing would make me happier.”

He took off her hat, then his own, and kissed her, this one woman he loved the most, in his favorite place in the entire world.

When they returned home they found not only Mrs. Douglas back from London—she proudly presented her sister’s jewels to Elissande as her dowry—but also Freddie and Angelica, who had come in person to announce their engagement.

Angelica, who looked radiant, punched Vere symbolically on the chest as his penance for lying to her all these years.

“Punch me more,” he said. He had told Freddie that he could share everything with Angelica, understanding that Freddie needed that.

“I should,” said Angelica, “but I have decided to forgive you.”

He was moved to embrace her. “Thank you.”

It never failed to astonish him, the generosity of those who loved him—and whom he loved—best.

Together they chatted for a while with Mrs. Douglas. After Mrs. Douglas left to take her nap, the four of them congregated in the study and made good-natured fun of Vere as they plotted his return to form.

“We can say you came upon a bear in the woods,” said Angelica, “and the bear smacked you on the head the way I should have!”

“Wild bears have been extinct in Britain since the tenth century,” Vere pointed out. “We will have trouble with that story.”

“How about an accident during a cricket game?” said Freddie. “I can hit you very gently.”

“After having been thoroughly pummeled by you, Freddie, I think you underestimate your own strength. One gentle hit from you might shear off my head.”

“I can smack you with a frying pan,” suggested his wife, joining the fun. “Domestic strife is always believable.”

“Excellent idea!” exclaimed Angelica.

“But you are a marchioness, not a farmer’s wife.” Vere shook his head. “What lady of your station would run five minutes from her drawing room to her kitchen for a skillet? She’s much more believable using a Ming vase.”

“Or his walking stick,” said Freddie, with a wink to Elissande.

They all cackled at that.

Freddie and Angelica stayed for dinner, during which they drank many toasts: to the newly engaged couple’s future happiness, to Mrs. Douglas’s health, to Vere’s upcoming “miraculous” recovery, and to his wife’s saintly patience with the unbearably pedantic man Vere was certain to become, now that he was free to exploit his intellect again.

Vere offered his brother and sister-in-law-to-be lodging for the night, but they declined. He did not press too hard, knowing that the new lovers were eager for their privacy. The four of them made plans to meet again soon, then Vere and Elissande were standing before the house, waving good-bye to Freddie and Angelica as the latter left for the rail station.

When the carriage had disappeared from sight, Vere placed his arm around his wife’s shoulder. She leaned into him.

“I love you,” he said, kissing her on her hair.

“I love you too.” She lifted his hand from around her shoulder and kissed his palm. “And I want to take long walks with you, many, many of them.”

He smiled. “Your wish is my command, my lady.”

“Good,” she said. “Now let’s retire upstairs and talk at great length—if you know what I mean—about Latin verse.”

They were still laughing as they closed the bedroom door.