A Tip of the Cap (London League, Book 3)

by Rebecca Connolly

  “You’re not upset?” he asked, his chest tightening in anticipation even as his confusion and amazement grew.

  She shook her head, still smiling. “Why should I be? I am well, the children are well, you are well, the house is well, and now I understand how you are friends with such an odd group of men.” She leaned back in his hold a little. “I find the idea absolutely splendid, so long as you never leave after a fight again.”

  Malcolm kissed her smiling lips at once, hungrily and without hesitation. “Never,” he vowed. “And no matter how many times I must leave you, Beth, I will always come back to you. Always.” He kissed her again, much softer. “It’s not an easy life, my love, but I promise to protect you at all times. And to honor you, cherish you, love you until the very end of time.”

  She covered his lips with her hand, smiling breathlessly. “No need to recite all the vows again,” she teased. She sobered a little. “Was that why you stayed away so long? Your work?”

  He nodded, then shrugged a shoulder. “Some. It was a convenient excuse. I couldn’t bear the shame of coming home.” He held her closely and exhaled. “I didn’t think you’d need me anymore, if you could see. What use is a man like me to a woman like you?”

  That seemed to surprise her, and she went up on her toes to touch her brow to his. “I need you,” she whispered. “I’ll always need you, sight or no sight. Because I love you. With all my heart and soul, I am yours. And now I need you more than ever.”

  “Why?”

  Beth giggled softly and nudged her nose against his. “Because later this year, we will find ourselves with another child to love.”

  Malcolm pulled back in shock, staring at her. “What?”

  She grinned and touched his chin with a finger. “I’m expecting. We are.”

  “That’s what I thought,” he managed. He stared at her, shaking his head. “Are you sure?”

  Beth nodded. “Yes, I am quite sure. Dr. Durham confirmed it shortly after you left. I am three months along, perhaps four.”

  It was incredible. It was unexpected and madness and the absolute most wonderful news he could have ever received. He grinned wildly and kissed his wife with heat and passion, then drew her close for a tight embrace, his heart pounding in near-perfect time with hers.

  “I cannot tell you how pleased I am, sweetheart,” he murmured in her hair. “I had only thought about getting to you in time, apologizing, and starting again. I never considered…”

  He felt her shake her head against him. “I know. It was agony to know about our child and not know how you felt. Where we stood. Knowing now that you love me… Malcolm, I’ll never need anything else.”

  Malcolm pressed a kiss into his wife’s hair, then pulled back, cupping her face in his hands again. “I vow here and now, Elizabeth Anne, that I am yours. Your husband, your companion, your humble and willing servant… Yours in every respect, in any way that you need. Yours, my love. No matter what happens, never doubt that.”

  Beth smiled and brushed his hair back from his brow tenderly. “And I vow to love you with all of my heart and all that I am. To trust you implicitly, and to be by your side through any and all troubles.”

  Something stirred in Malcolm’s heart, something he couldn’t explain and couldn’t put a name to, but it centered, began, and ended with the woman before him. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips and smiled when she sighed.

  “Shall we go home, then, Lady Montgomery?” he whispered, stroking her hair.

  She smiled dreamily at him and nodded. “Please, Lord Montgomery. Walk me home.”

  Malcolm laced his fingers between his wife’s, then drew the back of her hand up for a kiss. Her fingers rubbed against his gently, infusing the skin with heat and sensation that seemed to ripple through him with a slow but fervent intensity.

  There would be time to explore that later.

  There would be time for everything later.

  But for now, in this moment, all was absolutely perfect.

  “Was that Mr. Pratt and Lord Wharton I saw with you in the woods?” Beth asked with blatant amusement. “I take it they’ve put their differences aside.”

  Malcolm chuckled, which then turned into full-blown guffaws as the stress, worry, and desperation of the night finally released. “Oh, Beth. You’re not going to believe half of what I have to tell you. It’s going to take ages to properly explain.”

  “I don’t mind,” she murmured with a smile, her fingers rubbing against his once more. “I have all the time in the world.”

  Malcolm smiled at his beloved and kissed her hand once more as they slowly walked back to the house. “So do I, my love. So do I.”

  Epilogue

  The house was full of people, and there was absolutely no excuse for it. Nobody really cared about the Grangers all that much, and they never had, but ever since they had let it be known that they were anticipating the birth of a child, they were all anybody could talk about.

  Now, the long-awaited child had arrived, and only this morning been christened, and it was as if the whole of London had come out for the event. There was nothing that London loved so much as a good tale, and this one was especially grand.

  A rather unfortunate match to begin with, but rather typical, with each of the parties involved not being particularly fond of the other. Yet they had seemed more miserable than usual, and more downcast. There had been rumors of Mr. Granger’s fortune being rather depleted after a badly laid scheme had gone awry, but his marriage had sustained them sufficiently. Now they were predominantly wealthy, happy, and this child had been born, after more years of marriage than anybody had expected.

  And that was what people were curious about.

  What had changed between them? Why were they suddenly happy and far too affectionate for the stoic and respectable members of London that had thought them one of their own? Those with suspicions were being remarkably observant at this gathering, and it was an amusing spectacle.

  Beth watched her oldest friend fondly as she continued to be swarmed by various members of Society, some of whom truly wished to have a look at young Ross Arden Granger, currently dozing contentedly, while others seemed to be peering at his mother’s glowing face as she spoke of him.

  Those with Beth’s vantage point had the opportunity to see just how often Lily Granger looked at her husband, and just how often Thomas Granger looked at his wife.

  It really was shocking.

  “There’s a story there,” the woman beside Beth murmured as she sipped her cordial, “and I am determined to sniff it out.”

  Beth turned to the elaborately dressed woman in yellow silk with a raised brow. “You think you can, Tibby? Lily and Granger are not particularly forthcoming.”

  Tibby’s bright eyes flashed with mock indignation. “Of course, I can! I figured your marriage out, did I not?”

  “It’s hardly the same thing!” Beth laughed. “Monty and I were fond enough of each other to begin with.”

  Now Tibby snorted and rolled her eyes. “Please, darling, the pair of you were practically strangers. He was desperate for a wife; you were desperate for a solution. The fact that you are utterly charming is the only thing that saved you from the most boring marriage on the planet. Aside from your having gained a remarkably handsome husband, of course.”

  Beth smiled softly as she looked across the room where her husband stood, conversing with several members of high Society, all of whom were rapt with attention. He had that effect on people. He’d hardly aged at all in the four years of their marriage, and had somehow grown only more handsome. He saw her looking at him, and the corner of his mouth lifted as he dipped his chin in acknowledgment, never once altering his speech.

  “I didn’t know you found him handsome,” Beth commented as she slid her glance back to her companion, who seemed to be smirking.

  Tibby gave her a knowing look. “Elizabeth, there isn’t a warm-blooded woman alive on this earth who doesn’t hate you just a little for having that man
in your bed.”

  Beth coughed in surprise, laughing when she was able to. “Tibby!”

  Her companion shrugged. “I only speak the truth, darling. Always do.” She eyed Beth carefully, her brow creasing. “Should you even be here? In your condition, child…”

  There was another warm smile as Beth cradled her swollen abdomen gently, though it was barely visible with the voluminous skirts fashion had chosen to dote upon of late.

  “I am very well, Tibby, and a full month from delivering. Dr. Durham swears by it, and you know I was late with my other two.”

  Tibby’s nostrils flared a little as she hummed. “Yes, well, with your boys, darling, I wouldn’t put any stock into timelines or patterns. I’ve never met a pair of lads more intent on doing whatever they wished whenever they wished. They will either be the most roguish highwaymen that ever lived, or some reckless secret operatives for the government.”

  Beth had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing at that all-too-perfect description. Michael and Francis were still very young, only three and one, but they would be prime candidates to follow in their father’s footsteps and serve the Crown in such a way. They seemed to have inherited the same tendency towards mischief from their half-brothers, though both had the sweetest temperament their parents had ever seen, which Malcolm assured Beth was entirely from her side.

  Beth knew better.

  Her boys worshipped their father with a fierceness that amused her to no end, and she hoped they always would. He took special care with them, always treating each with his undivided attention, as was his way. Malcolm still travelled quite a bit for his work in the covert operations, but he had now assumed command over the London League, as his predecessor had gone into retirement. He was not in the same sort of danger anymore, but now bore the stresses of management rather than in practice himself.

  For the most part…

  He never told Beth the details, and she didn’t want to know. But she could tell when he returned by the way he held her or how he doted on the children if it had been a trying mission. He always worried about her when he left, lingering longer and longer when departure was at hand. His returns were always sweet, sometimes breathtakingly so, and she craved his return from the moment he left her side.

  Malcolm had told her once that he felt the same way, and that was her chief comfort in this mad and unpredictable life.

  That and the joy of their children.

  No matter what weighed upon him, or how exhausted he was from his travels, he always had time for them, especially his youngest. He never wanted them to have cause to doubt his love for them, and they never did.

  Their older siblings never failed to include and mind the littlest boys, somehow their guardians and their tutors all in one. If either of them ever injured themselves, their sisters would have the heads of the elder brothers, who would undoubtedly be to blame.

  This little one within her, however, seemed quite different. She’d had a far more peaceful time of it all, and while she was growing more uncomfortable by the day, she was also growing more filled with anticipation. She hadn’t admitted this to Malcolm, but she was fairly convinced she would give birth to a daughter, which was what her husband had wanted all along.

  “I love my sons,” he’d assured her only this morning as they lounged in bed together. “I think they shall grow to be very fine men. But a girl…” He’d felt for the baby to kick, which had come as if instructed, and he’d smiled with all the love in the world. “There is something very special about being a father to a little girl.”

  How she ached to give him such an experience again! She’d been quite unable to contain her emotions after that, particularly when he had kissed her stomach and spoken sweetly to their unborn child.

  She’d given him several kisses as a reward and been sufficiently distracted from telling him her thoughts on the matter.

  He’d know soon enough as it was.

  “They are their father’s sons,” Beth finally replied to Tibby’s claim.

  “And young Master Granger over there?” Tibby inclined her head towards the infant, who was now in his father’s hold and being shown off to the room. “Is he his father’s son as well?”

  “That’s hard to say,” Beth sighed, following her gaze. “He has the coloring of both parents, and with both having more reserved demeanors, it would be difficult to distinguish one from the other in him.”

  “If he is musical, he takes after his mother,” Tibby stated firmly. “If he is a perfect gentleman, his father.”

  Beth smiled at that and at Lily, who was now watching them with a curious expression. “If he is slightly interfering but endearing, he takes after his mother. If he is content to let people be, his father.”

  “If he has the patience of a saint, he is Lily’s. If he wishes to suffer in absolute silence, he is Granger’s.”

  Beth chortled a laugh. “And if he happens to fall in love passionately and never say a word about it?”

  “Both!”

  They snickered together, and Beth sighed, shaking her head. “Oh, Tibby, I didn’t think they would ever be happy. And look at them now!”

  “I always knew they would be happy,” she insisted adamantly. “The question would be how happy and if the other were the cause of such happiness.” She shrugged a little. “They were destined to be happy. As were you.”

  “Was I?” Beth murmured, looking over at her husband once more, who only had Lord Marlowe for company now, and both looked very bored.

  Malcolm stared back at her, his expression only barely changing, but his eyes now entirely alive and warming her.

  “Naturally. Your marriage was enviable even in its early days, and now that you are both utterly besotted, even more so.” Tibby offered a sigh that was somehow mournful and satisfied at once. “It’s a wonder the pair of you don’t run away to the continent and set all Europe talking. You could have quite the time of it in London together and make quite an impressive splash with all the events and social gatherings, you know. Think of all the merriment there!”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Beth murmured as she smiled shyly at her husband, at whom she was still staring quite fixedly. “I never had much experience in London before my marriage. And I have spent more of my marriage being with child than not.”

  That seemed to amuse Tibby a little, even as she huffed with what was supposed to be proper indignation. “Perhaps you ought to speak to your husband about his attentions. He really ought to have a care for you.”

  Beth wrenched her gaze away from her stirring and very attractive husband to give the woman an utterly incredulous look. “Why in the world would I want to do that?”

  Tibby clamped down on her lips, and her eyes widened with muffled laughter.

  Beth looked back at Malcolm with a knowing smile, which he returned, and her breath caught almost audibly at his wink.

  “I can assure you, madam,” she managed with a steadying exhale, “the feelings are entirely mutual.”

  Author's Note

  What Beth goes through after her head injury is a real condition called transient cortical blindness, caused by a traumatic brain injury, or TBI. The impact to the back of her head caused an area of bleeding and swelling, which put pressure on the back of her brain, called the occipital lobe.

  As the bleeding and swelling resolved, her vision slowly returned. Some who suffer from this condition have symptoms that resolve in a matter of minutes or hours, and others develop a lengthier cortical blindness that can linger for weeks or months. For the purposes of this story, Beth’s injury took longer to heal, but she makes a full recovery, though it is possible her vision would never be as sharp as it was before the injury.

  About the Author

  Rebecca Connolly has been creating stories since she was young, and there are home videos to prove it. She started writing them down in elementary school and has never looked back. She lives in Ohio, spends every spare moment away from her day job absorbed in her writing
, and is a hot cocoa junkie.

  Coming Soon

  The London League

  Book Four

  “A rook of all trades...”

  by

  Rebecca Connolly