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to the law men. “He’s confessed to a murder and abused several women he had no business touching. See that he serves for that.”

“No,” Winston yelled, trying to dart away.

But two of the men held him firm. “Will do, my lord.”

Gabriella wrapped her arms about her waist, and Austin slipped an arm about her, pulling her close. “It’s over, love.”

She drew in a shaky breath. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

He grazed a kiss along her temple. “As am I.”

“Austin,” she whispered. “Can we still leave tomorrow? I don’t want to stay here any longer.”

He held her tighter as he dropped his cheek to her head. “We will leave very soon, but not out of fear. You don’t need to be afraid of him any longer.”

* * *

Gabriella looked up at her husband, love and happiness stamping out the worry that had just clouded her mind.

He was right, of course.

She was under her father’s tyranny her entire life, but now she was free. She had a loving, kind, strong husband who would protect and support her always.

“Austin,” she whispered as she wrapped her arms about him. “I love you so very much.”

He reached for her chin, gently tipping it toward his. “I love you too. You’ve brought such joy to my life, Gabriella. Rest assured, I won’t allow anything to hurt you, ever.”

She kissed him again, her arms about him. Once upon a time, she’d wished for a hero. A man to love her. She’d gotten her wish but it was so much more than that. This was deeper, stronger than any fantasy she’d ever imagined. “Let’s go inside. I need to check on Mrs. Butterfield.”

“Good idea,” he answered, leading her in the house. “We’ll have to stay a few extra days, I’m afraid. I need to make certain your father lands in prison. But you can take that time to care for Mrs. Butterfield.”

She stepped through the door, her hand still tucked in his. Mrs. Butterfield sat in a chair next to the stove, holding her head in her hands. She had a lump forming on her forehead but looked unharmed otherwise.

“Oh, my dear,” Mrs. Butterfield cried as she rose from the chair and threw her arms about Gabriella. “I am so sorry.”

“I should say sorry to you.” Gabriella returned the hug. “He was trying to get to me. What can I do for you?”

“Tea would be nice.” Mrs. Butterfield smiled. “And I told you before. It’s not your fault that your father is a bad egg.”

“That is the absolute truth,” Austin said coming next to his wife.

Gabriella reached for her husband’s hand. How was it even possible that she’d found her place in this world at an auction her father had devised?

Regardless, Austin was her forever.

Epilogue

One year later…

Gabriella stood on the seamstress’s dressing block with her arms up as the woman measured her waist. “I’m going to have to let out the waists in your gowns again, my lady.”

Gabriella grinned as she studied her reflection in the mirror. She loved her growing stomach and the baby that was inside.

Austin’s baby.

They’d gotten into the habit of sleeping, spooned together, his arm resting on her stomach as their little girl or boy kicked about.

She suspected she’d give birth in another month or so and then they could end the debate that had been raging amongst their friends as to whether or not their first child would be male.

The Duke of Devonhall, Bash, had sworn it would be a boy, while his wife, Isabella, had raised a finger and said with absolute certainty, “See the way her stomach carries so low, that’s a girl.”

It had been the topic of endless nights’ discussions, which made Gabriella both glowingly happy and just a touch afraid. After one such night, she’d ask Austin. “Will you mind if it’s a girl?”

“Mind?” he asked, chuckling. “I only hope she has your raven hair.”

Eliza, the wife of the Marquess of Milton, was also with child, though she wasn’t due for several months. They’d not told anyone about her own possible connection to the family. Not that it mattered. His friends and their wives had become family. A gift that she was infinitely grateful for.

Isabella stood next to her, giving Gabriella a secret smile as she too was fitted for a new spring gown. “Can I tell you something?”

Gabriella’s eyebrows raised. “You can tell me anything.”

Isabella’s eyes sparkled. “I know that I can.” The duchess’s hand skimmed down her own very flat stomach. Gabriella’s brows hitched higher as her lips parted. “Does Bash know?”

Isabella shook her head. “I’ve only missed one month. When I’ve missed a second…”

The seamstress finished and Gabriella stepped off her box and moved closer to Isabella. “How long has it been?”

“Six or seven weeks,” the duchess whispered.

Gabriella gave a tiny clap, then her hands slipped. “Have you told any of your sisters yet?”

Isabella shook her head. “Abigail has been in Overton with Blackwater, and Eliza has her own bundle to think about. They’ve only just returned from their trip to America and now they’re preparing for a child.”

Gabriella understood. She truly did. But as she took Isabella’s hand, she patted the backs of the other woman’s fingers. “You should tell them. All of them. That’s the beauty of family. They will have room to share in your joy just as they have in your sorrows.”

Isabella nodded. “That is great advice, thank you.”

Gabriella appreciated the gratitude, but she didn’t need it. She’d learned this directly from Austin. He’d given her so much love when she’d needed it most and taken on her burdens as his own.

It would take her an entire lifetime to repay him, but she was set on trying.

And this baby would be her first of many gifts.

She and Isabella left the shop and found their husbands waiting for them at the nearby inn.

Austin rose the moment he saw her, stepping over to assist her to the table. He gently lowered her into a chair. “Hello, my love,” he said as

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