Persuasion (31 page)
Authors: Brenda Joyce
Amelia ran to the front door, which was already being held open, her mother following. William and John were faster than she was, and they beat her down the front steps. Simon pulled his mount to a halt before the house, leaping off of it before it was standing entirely still. His hair loosely pulled back, his clothes and boots muddy, he ran toward them.
Amelia stopped, letting the boys leap into their father’s arms first. She started to cry. Simon was thin and pale and his hair was so long, but he was home. Her beloved husband was home.
And as he embraced both boys at once, he looked over their heads at her. He was crying.
Amelia came slowly down the steps. Her heart thrummed.
Simon straightened, releasing the boys.
She hesitated—and he swiftly, purposefully came forward. Amelia was swept into his hard embrace and held there.
“I have missed you so,” he said roughly.
She looked up, taking his beautiful face in her hands. “Thank God you are home! I have missed you, too, Simon, impossibly!”
He suddenly smiled, his eyes lightening with happiness, and he swooped her closer and kissed her for a long, long time.
“Ewwww,” John cried.
“Shh. Father loves her, can’t you tell?” William returned.
“Boys, we must give them their privacy,” Momma said sternly.
Amelia heard them all, but she took Simon’s shoulders and allowed the kiss to go on and on until she couldn’t breathe, until her knees were buckling, until she absolutely had to take him upstairs and tear off his clothes—and be a proper wife.
Simon finally came up for air, looking very pleased. “Some things haven’t changed,” he said softly.
“You, my lord, shall pay quite the price for such a lengthy absence,” she managed to flirt, rather breathlessly.
He grinned. “I hope so...wife.”
Amelia started. “I have told no one yet.” She lifted the chain with her wedding ring from beneath the collar of her dress.
Simon took her shoulders and turned her around. Realizing what he meant to do, Amelia stood very still as he undid the chain, her heart thundering. She was so overcome with love and joy and desire that she could hardly stand it.
He turned her back to face the boys, Momma, Lucas and the coachman and footmen, smiling. Then he grinned at her and she held out her hand. He slid the band onto her fourth finger.
“Papa?” William gasped.
Simon turned. “We have an announcement to make. Amelia and I were married on June 3. Amelia is the Countess of St. Just.”
Both boys blinked. Momma started, while the staff looked as surprised. Lucas, of course, simply smiled. And then John ran to her and threw himself at her, hugging her hard, with a screech. William approached, more slowly, but with a smile.
“Can I call you Mama?” John asked, grinning up at her.
“Of course you can,” Amelia said, stroking his hair. Her heart surged with too much emotion to bear.
“Should I call you Mother?” William asked, very seriously. He looked first at Amelia and then at his father.
Simon deferred to Amelia.
She put her arm around him. “You may call me whatever you like—whatever feels right.”
William stared, beginning to blush. “I am pleased, Miss, er, Mother, that you have married my father.”
Amelia laughed and hugged him. And then it was her mother’s turn. Momma was crying a mother’s tears of joy.
“Oh, darling, I always knew he loved you!” she cried, hugging her, and Amelia had the odd feeling that her mother was recalling the long-ago past, when Simon had so recklessly courted her when she was just a sixteen-year-old girl.
But the present consumed her now. Laughing, she turned and looped her arm in Simon’s. She had never been so happy; there had never been so much joy.
He was tugging her toward the house, a definite glint in his eyes. “Why isn’t Lucille here to greet me, as well?”
She laughed again. “She was sleeping, the last I looked, but we can wake her up.”
“Good,” he said, rather ruggedly. “Because we are going to celebrate—as a family.”
John clapped his hands. “Can we go to the gypsy circus?”
“I do not see why not,” Simon said, smiling. And still smiling, he gave Momma a kiss on her cheek. She blushed.
“We could go up the river on my yacht,” William said eagerly.
“First, we are going into the house, where we are going to allow your father to rest after a long and maybe difficult trip. And then we shall make all of our plans,” Amelia said. And as they walked past the doormen, they bowed their heads and murmured, “My lord, my lady.”
Amelia faltered and turned to gape at both doormen, but they simply grinned at her.
And as Mrs. Murdock came into the front hall with Lucille, Lloyd appeared from the kitchens. John shouted, “Papa has married Miss Greystone! She is my momma now!”
“She is the Countess of St. Just,” William declared proudly.
Mrs. Murdock cried out, and even Lloyd started.
Amelia gestured and the nurse came forward, handing the baby over to Simon. Lucille gurgled at him and he smiled down at her.
“Congratulations,” Mrs. Murdock whispered.
“Lady Grenville, shall I bring tea and pastries?” Lloyd asked.
Amelia inhaled, taking a good look around her. John was galloping about the front hall on his stick pony, William was admiring Lucille, while Simon had given her his finger to tug on. Mrs. Murdock was beaming at the sight of father and daughter, and Lucas had just entered the hall, escorting their mother. He sent her a warm smile. “Well, Lady Grenville?” her brother teased.
Simon turned, rocking Lucille now. “Lady Grenville?”
Amelia looked at them all. They were her wonderful, beloved family, and Simon was home for good. “Yes, Lloyd, do bring refreshments,” she said.
Lloyd bowed and left the room.
And across the children’s heads, Simon Grenville looked at her, and for the first time in a decade, the anguish was receding from his eyes. Instead, something bright and joyous was brimming there. “I am home, Amelia, and this time, I am home to stay.”
She went to him. The war wasn’t over—but it was finally over for them. “Finally,” she whispered, as he slowly embraced her. “Finally.”
* * * * *
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ISBN: 9781459234550
Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Joyce Dreams Unlimited, Inc.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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