Your Darkest Dream (Blackwood & Friends #2)

Epilogue

Epilogue

Blanche sneezed uproariously.

Nate glanced up at her through a veritable plumage of greenery, grinning widely. "Such a lady," he remarked.

She wiped her nose on the back of her hand and raised her brows at him. He was in the open courtyard below, pushing the variety of plants and fronds Wilhelmina had ordered to adorn the area in all their green splendour out the way and into more strategic corners. "You look like an explorer," she told him pointedly. Nate dropped the potted plant unceremoniously and thrust the greenery from his face, annoyed.

"It looks like a damn jungle in here," he grumbled. "What the hell was your grandmother thinking?" He eyed Blanche warily for a moment. "And what are doing?"

She flipped a thread-bare rug over the railing that she had acquired from one of the abandoned rooms behind her, another waft of dust hitting her squarely in the face and darting up her nose. She sneezed explosively again, her eyes watering. When her senses had stilled and she was certain another wasn't forthcoming, she considered her husband thoughtfully. "These carpets need a good beating," she explained, "and I am helping Spence clear out the room behind me. We both agreed it would be perfect for the billiards table-"

"My lady, kindly do not imply I had anything to add to your suggestion," Spencer Davidson mumbled dryly from within the dark recesses of the aforementioned room.

Blanche grinned sheepishly at Nate who was wrestling another frond into submission. For a moment, he merely tackled the issue of another plant, then he sighed audibly and settled his hands on his hips to study her above. They had arrived from their elopement the day before and presently Nate was trying his utmost to find it in himself to accommodate some of the more drastic changes implemented in his club. It was not yet noon and they had been meandering about the different floors, sharing ideas about the potential for each chamber, and soon Jason and Nicola had called on them and were finishing what remained of the tea they had been served in one of the rooms on the third level that Blanche had temporarily made into a study for Nate.

As they had moved about in companionable repartee, she had felt the same excitement brewing that spoke of all the possibilities for her future, the flutters of anticipation at transforming a new chamber or implementing one of her ideas successfully. As it had turned out, the wager that the club had instigated regarding Nate's release from Newgate had been one of the most popular and scandal-intriguing bets to have ever occurred. The profit that little incentive had earned the club would be enough to turn over a few lingering debts and add to the impending renovations that would take place once the season drew to a close in the next month.

"Come here," Nate told her, his voice sonorous and suggestive while his caramel eyes positively devoured her. A low thrum answered that look and she couldn't help admire the way his long hair had escaped their confinement, framing his ruggedly handsome face with abandon. There were high peaks of colour on his swarthy cheeks from the exertion he had used to move the heavy plants around the courtyard. His shirt was tucked loosely into the waist of his lightly coloured trousers, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and she never failed to adore the corded strength of his forearms.

Blanche didn't hesitate and she scampered across the landing, down the stairs, and went to him. "You know you don't have to do any of that," he said as he tucked her against him, dropping a kiss to the top of her head affectionately. "There are servants-"

"I want to," Blanche protested, her hands splayed against his firm abdomen. "Besides, I am enjoying it. It makes me feel useful."

His smile crooked. "Your nose is pink. You may wish to avoid dusty carpets for a while."