Marriage to a Mister (A Daughters of Regency #1) (29 page)

Together they would not allow their past to come between then, and together nothing would stand in the way of their future happiness, love having shined its light upon every dark corner of their past.

EPILOGUE

Fleur stood with Evan pressed into her from behind, his arms wrapped around her waist, her eyes closed as she listened to his voice.
 

"Can you feel it?" he asked. He slid his hands down to her own, helping her grip and slide them over the smooth length. "Tighter ... there, that's it ... now swing."

She swung the bat with force and when she heard a loud crack, her eyes opened and she cheered.
 

"Don't cheer woman, run!"

Evan laughed as she jumped at his words and ran to the other end of the pitch, Little Thomas awaiting her and clapping.

When she ran back towards him, eyes wide, he smiled. "That will be all, Little Thomas. Why don't you run along and see if you father needs help when he makes his run to town?"

The boy smiled, nodded, and ran off, leaving Evan and Fleur in the field.
 

"How does it feel?" he asked, taking her arm in his own and walking her back to the house. "I kept my promise, I finally taught you how to play cricket."

Fleur gave him a look, still trying to catch her breath. "It was exhilarating, though don't praise yourself too hard - it did take you fifteen years to get around to it."

He swung open the gate to the cottage, holding it for her to step inside the small courtyard. In the distance she could see work being done on the outer wall, the white trim of the house being restored to its former state.

They had both agreed that until all the work was completed on the main house, they would stay in their little cottage, a place both had come to cherish. There was one thing, however, they did not agree on.
 

"You know, if we stayed home we could play cricket every day. There are many other games I could teach you as well," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Fleur laughed as she walked through the front door, removing her bonnet. "No, Evan, you promised Julia."
 

Evan fell into a nearby chair, laying his head back and closing his eyes. "How could I tell her no when you so obviously wanted to be the one to chaperone her this season? I can't fight you both, I haven't the strength. I don't know how your father managed it."

"Years of practice, I'm sure," she said, tying the ribbons of her bonnet before hanging it beside the door. "Besides, I haven't seen my father nor Julia since Christmas. Oh, and you will see Mr. Carter."

Evan raised his head from the chair. "Fleur, we men are different creatures. My seeing Nathan is not a priority, not one I need suffer for anyway. We will be there for weeks, and you know Nathan and Julia will be unbearable around one another. They do nothing but bicker."

Fleur crossed her arms. "More the reason for us to be there. If we don't go to escort her there is no telling what Julia might do. It's only a few parties and balls, Evan, really."

"No. No balls, Fleur, you promised."

"We shall see," she said, smiling before walking towards him. Once she was within reach, he grabbed and pulled her into his lap.
 

She leaned down and kissed him. "We really shouldn't be lounging around like this, not when there is so much left to do before we away."

"It's too late now I can't feel my legs. Someone has crushed them. Can't work a bit."

She laughed and smacked him on the chest. Leaning forward, she kissed him on the nose and smirked mischievously. "Poor Evan, it must be difficult, having two people sitting atop you."

Confused, Evan looked at her, but when he searched her face, filling with happiness and mirth, a great smile dawned upon his face.
 

"Truly?" he asked, searching her eyes, which had misted over with happy tears.

She laughed and nodded as he brought her down to hug her tightly. "I don't deserve to be this happy," he said with a sigh.

"Don't get too excited, it may be a girl you know," she teased.
 

He thought back to a conversation he had with her father, something that stayed with him, that having a daughter would be his privilege, and that he would one day live for her. "I hope it is a girl — a daughter — just like you," he said, meaning every word.

She smiled, looking into his eyes, leaning down to place a kiss on his warm lips, but then she remembered something and paused. "Oh, but, Evan, I just thought of something dreadful."

Worried, he sat up straight. "What is it?"

"How will we ever name our child when we can't even agree on a name for our home?"

He laughed, relaxing again. "I'm sure we will manage, though I still think 'willow' should be in the title."

"Why 'willow' specifically?" she asked.

Evan looked at her and smirked. "Because it's where I first kissed you."

Fleur smiled and melted further into his arms, knowing he was wrong but never telling him of her stolen kiss when he slept soundly in the chair they both sat in now. "All right, willow it will be. What about Willow Manor?"

Evan shook his head. "Too pretentious. What about park? Willow Park?"

The both shook their heads this time. "Hill?" she asked.

"Hmm, hill, Willow Hill," he said, trying it out. "You know I like it, perhaps we've found our name."

Fleur sighed. "Finally."

Evan touched her cheek, a small caress that quickened her breath. "Finally feels like home, doesn't it?" he asked.

Fleur thought his words could not have been more true as she leaned down to kiss him.
 

During the last several months, she and Evan had been almost as inseparable as they were when they were children. She had, however, learned that being in love was easy, but not necessarily the same thing as living easily with a person. The latter, of which, was significantly harder.

Through it all they had quarreled, only but a little, but they had also loved fiercely and neither one had thought of leaving the other, their confidence in that love having grown, and their ability to convey their feelings constant. But more importantly, they knew that since they had found one another again, against all odds, they would never let one another go.

Acknowledgements

To my Super Six Team, you each know who you are and what you mean to me. We may have met later in life, but better friends I could never find, not ever. #Shawols4Ever #LlamaGo
 

To Staci, my personal cheerleader and ball of hyperactive awesome. Without you I would have given up long ago, and would have been content to do so which was complete #BSS. Thank you for kicking me in the ass again, and again, and again, repeatedly, for three years. #LifeTwins

To my beta readers: Karla Sorensen, Zoe Streiker-Howard, Becca Mysoor, Erika King, Clea Boone, LeahKim Gannet and Kathryn Czornij. Some of you I have known for a long time, and some of you came to me as a favor from a friend, having not one clue what you were getting yourselves into. What you have done means so much to me. Thank you for helping me through this journey. Without your criticism MtaM would not be what it is today.

To Becky Slemons, my editor. Thank you for putting up with my repeated spazz. You are a miracle worker.

And last but certainly not least, to the wonderful readers. Marriage to a Mister is my debut novel and I feel honored and humbled you took the time to read my work, so thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

About the Author

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When DeAnne was a little girl she didn't want to be a doctor, an astronaut or a firewoman, and she definitely didn't want to be a writer. She was going to be an Egyptologist, and that was that.

One day, while working as a library aide at her middle school, DeAnne picked up a beat up old book called The Reluctant God by Pamela F. Service, mostly because the cover had a young modern girl with flaming red hair leaning over a mummy in a sarcophagus. The story wasn't a piece of literary mastery by any stretch, but it did have a time traveling Egyptian prince, and a plucky strong willed girl who both come together to solve the mystery and save the day. That was enough to have DeAnne grabbing every book within reach ever since.

Her reading taste may have expanded from fantasy, but it never wandered into the realm of romance until one day her mother handed her a historical romance novel to read while she was on bed rest with her twins. DeAnne scoffed, surely her mother didn't expect her to read such ridiculous fluff, but she was quickly running out of things to read so she read it and something unexpected happened. She loved it.

Born and raised in a tiny town in Oklahoma, DeAnne is married to her best friend Randy and has four beautiful and equally mischievous children. She works days with her husband at their graphic design studio and at night she writes love stories. A far cry from being an Egyptologist, but a better life she couldn't imagine.