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"There's no need for fifth," Kev said. "I'll do it."
"What?" Cam raised his brows. "You agree with me?"
"Yes."
All the points had been well-taken, but the mere mention of Win would have been enough. She would live better and be treated with far more respect as a countess than a Gypsy's wife.
The old man regarded Kev with a sour expression. "You seem to be under the misapprehension that I was giving you a choice. I wasn't asking you for anything. I was informing you of your good fortune and your duty. Furthermore-"
"Well, it's all settled," Cam interrupted hastily. "Lord Cavan, you now have an heir and a spare. I propose that we all take leave of each other to contemplate our new circumstances. If it pleases you, my lord, we will meet again on the morrow to discuss the particulars."
"Agreed."
"May we offer you and your servants lodging for the night?"
"I have already arranged to bestow my company on
Lord and Lady Westcliff. No doubt you have heard of the earl. A most distinguished gentleman. I was acquainted with his father."
"Yes," Cam said gravely. "We've heard of Westcliff."
Cavan's lips thi
The moment Cavan left the parlor, Cam went to the sideboard and poured two generous brandies. Looking bemused, he gave one to Kev. "What are you thinking?" he asked.
"He seems like the kind of grandfather we'd have," Kev said, and Cam nearly choked on his brandy as he laughed.
Much later that evening Win lay draped across Kev's chest, her hair streaming over him like trickles of moonlight. She was naked except for the coin necklace. Gently disentangling it from her hair, Kev pulled the necklace off and set it on the nightstand.
"Don't," she protested.
"Why?"
"I like wearing it. It reminds me that I'm betrothed."
"I'll remind you," he murmured, rolling until she lay in the crook of his arm. "As often as you need."
She smiled up at him, touching the edges of his lips with exploring fingertips. "Are you sorry that Lord Cavan found you, Kev?"
He kissed the delicate pads of her fingers as he pondered the question. "No," he said eventually. "He's a bitter old cretin, and I wouldn't care to spend a great deal of time in his company. But now I have the answers to things I wondered about for my entire life. And…" he hesitated before admitting sheepishly, "… I wouldn't mind being the Earl of Cavan someday."
"You wouldn't?" She regarded him with a quizzical grin.
Kev nodded. "I think I might be good at it," he confessed.
"So do I," Win said in a conspiratorial whisper. "In fact, I think a great many people will be surprised by your absolute brilliance at telling them what to do."
Kev gri
"What a silly old windbag," Win said, slipping her hand behind Kev's neck. "And he's utterly wrong," she added, just before their lips met. "Because, my love, you're better than everything."
For a long time afterward, there were no words.
Epilogue
According to the doctor, it had been the first delivery during which he had more concerns for the expectant father than the mother and infant.
Kev had conducted himself quite well during the majority of Win's confinement, though he had tended to overreact at times. The commonplace aches and twinges of pregnancy had caused nothing short of alarm, and there had been many a time that he had insisted on sending for the doctor for no good reason at all, despite Win's exasperated refusal.
But parts of it had been marvelous. The quiet evenings when Kev had rested beside her with his hands flattened on her stomach to feel the baby kicking. The summer afternoons when they had walked through Hampshire, feeling at one with nature and the life teeming everywhere. The unexpected discovery that marriage, rather than weighting their relationship with seriousness, had somehow given life a sense of lightness, of buoyancy.
Kev laughed often now. He was far more apt to tease, to play, to show his affection openly. He seemed to adore Cam and Amelia's son, Ronan, and readily joined in the family's general spoiling of the dark-haired infant.
However, during the last few weeks of Win's pregnancy, Kev hadn't been able to conceal his growing dread. And when Win's labor had begun in the middle of the night, he had gone into a state of subdued terror that nothing would soothe. Every birthing pain, every sharp gasp she took, had caused Kev to turn ashen, until Win had realized she was faring far better than he.
"Please," Win had whispered to Amelia privately, "do something with him."
And so Cam and Leo had dragged Kev from the bedroom down to the library, plying him with good Irish whiskey for most of the day.
When the future Earl of Cavan was born, the doctor said he was perfectly healthy, and that he wished all births could go so well. Amelia and Poppy bathed Win and dressed her in a fresh nightgown, and cleaned and swaddled the baby in soft cotton. Only then was Kev allowed to come up to see them. After ascertaining for himself that his wife and child were both in good condition, Kev wept in unashamed relief and promptly fell asleep on the bed beside Win.
She glanced from her handsome, slumbering husband to the baby in her arms. Her son was small but perfectly formed, fair-ski
"You are Andrei," she whispered. It was a name for a warrior. A son of Kev Merripen could be no less. "Your gadjo name is Jason Cole. And your tribal name…" She paused thoughtfully.
"Jado," came her husband's drowsy voice from beside her.
Win looked down at Kev and reached out to stroke his thick, dark hair. The lines on his face were gone, and he looked relaxed and content. "What does that mean?" she asked.
"One who lives outside the Rom. "
"That's perfect." She let her hand linger in his hair. "Ov yilo isi?" she asked him gently.
"Yes," Kev said, answering in English. "There is heart here."
And Win smiled as he sat up to kiss her.