Hunting the Hero (35 page)

Authors: Heather Boyd

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Regency, #Historical Romance

BOOK: Hunting the Hero

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“I suppose you could.”

“If there is any other possession of mine that you do not like, could you at least talk to me about the matter before you allow your destructive tendencies free rein?”

Rosemary wrapped her arms about his waist. “You can keep Rothwell and Lady Farnsworth as friends.”

Constantine stilled. “About Arabella?”

“Still worrying?”

“Well, yes. Of course I am.” He swallowed. “Please tell me she is not going to throw herself at some reckless rogue who will abandon her after the first dance, so to speak.”

Rosemary began to laugh. “Oh no, she’s not going to be taken advantage of. That’s not her plan at all.”

“So there is a plan? Is she going to marry again? If so, I should make a point of warning her away from Rothwell. The man has a reputation and he was rather inquisitive about her on his last visit.”

Rosemary kissed his chest. “Don’t worry; they say reformed rogues make the best husbands.”

He tossed Rosemary onto her back and pinned her to the bed. “Does that apply to reformed Randalls?”

“I doubt it. We Randalls were born to break the rules. There’s not much that can tame us.” She smiled wickedly. “But I don’t mind if you keep trying.”

EPILOGUE

ROSEMARY HUNT, Countess Grayling to larger society, eased into a chair and accepted the bundle from the housekeeper with a contented sigh. She had been lady of the manor for close to seven months and at last she had everything she’d ever wanted. A devoted husband, children, and comfort. But most of all, she knew in her heart where she belonged and whom she belonged with.

Mrs. Smith peered out the window and scowled. “He’s finally returned, my lady?”

Rosemary smiled at the revenge she was about to inflict on her husband. Until now, she had not found a suitable opportunity to repay Constantine for their surprise trip to Romsey nine months ago. But a perfect solution had fallen into her lap today and she wasn’t about to squander the moment. Everything was ready. “And not a moment too soon. I thought I might have to resort to violence to keep my siblings at bay.”

“They love you, my lady.” Mrs. Smith’s eyes softened. “As do each of us at the Hall. I am sure I even glimpsed a tear in the corner of Cunningham’s eye at your news.”

Rosemary caught the housekeeper’s hand and squeezed. “I could never have found my place without your help. Can you please make sure my husband does not linger belowstairs overlong?”

“You have my word.” The housekeeper bobbed a curtsy and hurried for the door. Just as she reached for the handle, it opened and Constantine strode in. Windswept and out of breath. Rosemary would like nothing better than to rub her hands in glee, but they were rather occupied at present.

“I’m sorry I was so long,” he said quickly as he flung his hat to the far corner of the room. “The tenants over by the mill were celebrating. Their daughter has just become engaged and they insisted I share in the celebrations.”

“Did you pass along my congratulations?”

“Of course. They sent along their best wishes for the coming birth.”

She stifled a laugh. “Did they? It was kind of them to remember me.”

“The estate talks of nothing else. I’ve had every woman I meet reassure me, but you know I will still worry about you.”

“There’s no need.” Rosemary smiled at the bundle in her arms. “Don’t worry about changing. There’s been a slight alteration in our plans for the evening. Why don’t you come tell me how clever I am?”

Constantine’s footsteps grew closer and then stopped a few feet away. “How did you…?”

Men were so predictable. She’d have to tell Mercy that Constantine was every bit as shocked as they both expected him to be. The sudden labor and fast delivery had thrown the house at sixes and sevens. “Oh, it all happened in the usual way. I won’t bore you with the details.”

He came closer and fell to his knees at her side, staring in stunned amazement at her lap. “When? You were sleeping peacefully when I left.”

Rosemary lifted her gaze away from their son and cupped his cheek. “Obviously in the intervening hours.”

Her husband blinked rather foolishly. “I wanted to be here.”

“Well,” Rosemary said, “this little man had other ideas. He was born very quickly. It seems I must take after my mother in that. We each were faster than the last to present ourselves. Tobias reminded me just last night that Mama barely made it to the birthing chamber before he appeared. Have I surprised you?”

“Beyond belief.” Constantine leaned in and kissed her full on the mouth. “You are the cleverest, most beautiful, most ingenious woman in the whole world.”

Rosemary nodded. “That’s more like it. Would you like to hold your son and heir?”

Her husband gulped nervously but took his son from her arms with the skill of a man used to such tasks. She leaned back against the headrest, admiring the man she’d married and the warmth of his smile. She’d chosen well the night she’d stolen him for her own pleasure. He treated her gently and allowed her the liberty she craved in most things, but most of all she just liked to be near him

He looked up. “What will you call him?”

She grinned. “I thought you might claim that privilege.”

Constantine bit his lip as he gazed upon his son. “James, of course, after your father. Peter, after mine. James Peter Hunt. Do you like it?”

Tears filled her eyes. “That was exactly what I would have chosen.”

Constantine glanced around at the sound of a giggle. “Are our daughters here?”

Rosemary nodded and crooked her fingers toward the bed. “They wanted to see your reaction to meeting their baby brother. Come out, my little darlings.”

Three pretty faces appeared from beneath the tassels of the master bed and hurried across the room. They crowded their father and new brother, their little fingers caressing James Peter Hunt’s dark head of hair gently as she’d shown them.

“He cries a lot, Papa,” Willow confessed with a sad shake of her head.

“See, he’s looking at you.” Maisy giggled. “He gets cross.”

Constantine rocked James a little until he settled again, his smile proving him utterly besotted with their son. “If that’s the case, he must have inherited a good portion of Randall blood.”

Rosemary met Constantine’s gaze over the heads of their children and her heart filled. The girl’s fascination with their new brother was simply adorable. After a moment, the girls drifted back to her side, and to her delight Willow climbed into her lap and lay against her shoulder. Rosemary brushed the girl’s hair from her eyes and cuddled her close. “What do you think of him?”

“He’s perfect.”

Rosemary touched the girl’s cheek and then Maisy’s and Poppy’s too. “You are all perfect, and all mine. Never ever forget that.”

Willow kissed her cheek and scrambled off, leaving her arms free. Poppy climbed onto her lap next and when Constantine placed James into her other arm she juggled the two together.

With luck, this wouldn’t be the end but only the beginning.

THE END

~ * ~

Thank you so much for reading Hunting the Hero. I hope you enjoyed it! Please consider leaving a review—either positive or negative. Reviews help others find a book that’s right for them.

Hunting the Hero is book 4 in the Wild Randalls Series. If you’d like to read the books in order, they are as follows:

Engaging the Enemy

Forsaking the Prize

Guarding the Spoils

Hunting the Hero

Find out what’s next, or sign up for my mailing list to hear about new releases at
http://heather-boyd.com
.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Each book I write begins as a single idea that won’t leave me alone, taking months to craft until I’m prepared and willing to share the story with others. This series has been a labor of love and determination and I’m so pleased my wild Randalls have found their way home.

For my extraordinary editor Anne Victory, my deepest sympathies for the burden you carry in correcting my mistakes. I do not know what I’d do without you. No really, I’ve no idea. Don’t go anywhere, ok?

The amazingly insightful and talented Laurie Schnebly saved me when faced with what seemed like an insurmountable problem in promoting this last book. Bless you for your rockin publicity skills and the generosity of your time.

The Wild Randalls series began over two years ago now and I’d like to thank the people who have brainstormed with me, shared their expertise and generally held my hand when I couldn’t find my way: Julie, Melissa, Michelle, Tamara, Suzi, Sandra, Tammy, Amy and Angieleigh. You’re all incredible ladies.

Thank you so much for being in my corner when I needed you.

And last but in no way least I want to thank my awesome husband and our sons for allowing me time alone to write, edit and promote my stories, for eating cheesecakes to celebrate my milestones (that one was a burden), for understanding that ‘mum needs to write’ isn’t a joke but her career, and for delivering endless cups of coffee while I’m working. I love you so very much.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Bestselling historical author Heather Boyd believes every character she creates deserves their own happily-ever-after, no matter how much trouble she puts them through. With that goal in mind, she weaves sizzling English set love stories that push the boundaries of regency era propriety to keep readers enthralled until the wee hours of the morning. Brimming with new ideas, she frequently wishes she could type as fast as she conjures new storylines. While writing full time north of Sydney, Australia, Heather collects dust bunnies in all corners of the house and does her best to wrangle her testosterone-fuelled family into submission.

For more information visit

www.heather-boyd.com

ALSO BY HEATHER BOYD

The Wild Randalls Series:

Engaging the Enemy

Forsaking the Prize

Guarding the Spoils

Hunting the Hero

The Distinguished Rogues Series:

Chills

Broken

Charity