The final ball was a grand affair.

While Penelope was preoccupied recently, her staff, and most importantly, Mrs. Fraser, had been more than focused on pulling together the most magnificent event to celebrate the end of the house party.

The last time Penelope had hosted an event of this magnitude, Lord Hutton was still here. She recalled how nervous, how worried she had been to do something wrong or say something he might chastise her for.

Lord Hutton had not been an unkind man—not on most days. He was intelligent, worldly, and had a high standard for Penelope to be the same. Luckily, intellect and charm were two things at Penelope's disposal. She had thought them the perfect match.

It was not until several months later that Penelope realized Hutton had collected her not as the perfect match but as the perfect stand-in. She was here, organizing his estate, whilst he ran free.

Penelope wished she were brave enough to leave and never look back. But her tenants and staff should not have to pay for the marquess' lack of responsibility. That was Penelope's burden to bear. She was the one who had made the mistake of wedding a dishonorable man.

As Penelope swept into the ballroom, glittering and alive with music and magic, she reminded herself that tonight was not the time to think about Lord Hutton.

She scanned across the floor, and it did not take long to find the towering form of Colonel Ash. He was dashing tonight, wearing a velvety navy suit coat that he looked surprisingly comfortable in as he spoke with Griffin on the outskirts of the ballroom.

The ease with which they blended into the scene made Penelope smile.

After crossing the room, Penelope had to keep from immediately melting into Beckett's side. It had become so routine, so comfortable to fit beneath his arm. She wondered if perhaps no one would notice if she rested her weight against his wall of familiarity but ultimately knew it was unlikely. People of the ton were always watching.

"Pen," Griffin said in a happy greeting. She smiled at her brother before turning to the man beside him.

"My lady," Beckett said, bowing his head. A slight smirk played on his lips, and she wished he wouldn't look at her like that. Not here, not now. Her skin heated beneath his slow appraisal as he took in her evening gown, a maroon beauty with threads of gold.

He did not say another word, but Penelope felt them, what he might have said if he dared.

"So am I supposed to simply accept how sickening the two of you are?" Griffin grumbled.

Beckett did not look away from Penelope when he responded. "Yes."

"Kingfield might have some advice for you on that matter," Leo said, sliding in beside her as he tossed Griffin a laughing smile.

Reluctantly, Beckett swiveled to face Leo. "How is it that you always seem to appear from thin air?"

Leo shrugged before turning to the sizeable man who walked up behind him. "Kingfield, how is it that you manage to survive being around your sister and that sulking viscount of hers?"

The Duke of Kingfield's previously grim expression broke into something of amusement. Penelope could easily see how the queen was so besotted by her husband; he was handsome and regal in his evening attire.

"Talking about me, are you?" Another man strode up behind the duke, one hand pushing through dark curly locks while the other was clasped tightly on the waist of a beautiful woman. Her honey-colored hair nearly matched that of the dukes, her brother. The gentleman at her side was Lord Trotten, otherwise known by Leo as the sulking viscount. "I know I am your favorite topic, Leo."

Kingfield bypassed Trotten's interlude, a twitch of annoyance flashing across his features. "I simply ignore it as much as possible."

Lady Trotten moved closer to her husband as if to purposefully irritate her brother, and the duke rolled his eyes.

"Certain times, it is more challenging than others." He scowled at Lord and Lady Trotten. "If you could resist making a scene with your overtness, that would be lovely."

"You know as much as I that you dote on Adelaide in front of the entire country," Trotten pointed out. "Do not be a hypocrite."

At this point, Penelope could not withhold a laugh as she looked back toward her brother. He'd appeared surprised at the sudden flood of members of London's high society. She knew he did not particularly care for titled folk, but the more Kingfield and Trotten bickered, the more at ease Griffin seemed to become.

Penelope wished he realized many things could thread people together outside of class and wealth. She hoped that by spending more time with her, he might.

"I think you are the one making a scene, darling." The queen swept into the mix, wearing a gown of spectacular rose gold.

"Your Majesty." Penelope bowed, still disbelieving that the queen was here...at her estate. At her ball. She supposed that if any bit of her reputation was still in tatters, this would likely fix that.

Queen Adelaide greeted them all before turning back to Penelope and Beckett.

"Lady Hutton, Colonel Ash.... May I speak with you?"

Queen Adelaide tipped her head toward the back terrace, and Penelope obliged the request, following her outside into the oddly humid night. The air stuck to her skin, enveloping her in its thickness. Beckett walked in silence beside her. Crickets sounded around them until the queen broke through their chorus.

"When Leo returned from the continent some months ago, he complained to me about this...Lord Hutton," she began. "While I had heard the gossip, same as anyone else, it struck me as greatly disconcerting once I heard it straight from the source."

Penelope gasped. "Leo saw Lord Hutton?"

Why had he not told her? Not once over this summer had Leo mentioned that.

The queen nodded. "Yes, and he told me of you, Lady Hutton. He told me of the kind woman you are and how you had been betrayed by the most disloyal of men." She cleared her throat. "In my opinion, Hutton can barely be called a man, but I digress...."

Penelope's lips twitched, but she did not dare interrupt the queen.

"As it so happened, I had already been considering sending someone to investigate Southampton for leads on the weapons leaving our shores. So naturally, I selected someone I knew would not even understand the word disloyal. I thought perhaps you deserved someone like Colonel Ash in your life, Penelope."

"I—" Words became stuck in Penelope's throat at what the queen had implied.

"This is all rather touching, Your Majesty," Beckett grunted, seeming more in control of his thoughts than Penelope. "But it does not change the fact that Lord Hutton is still out there, and you have created an impossible scenario."

"Impossible?" She laughed, and it sparkled in the summer air. "It is very much possible, Colonel. It is happening, is it not?"

Her eyes shifted from Penelope to Beckett and back again, and Penelope did not know what to say. She did not know what to confess or deny. It was no secret in England that the queen had married for love, but Penelope had not expected any of...this.

When Beckett all but grunted in response—shocking Penelope with his continued surliness in front of the Queen of England—Adelaide's grin grew.

"You have served this country well over the years, Colonel," she said. "I think it is time that I gave something back."

"That is unnecessary, Your Majesty."

"I disagree." Her eyes sparkled with mischief, piquing Penelope's interest. "I intend to bestow upon you a title, Ash."

"Hell," Beckett choked. "You do not know me as much as I believed, Your Majesty, if you think I wish for such a thing."

"Well, it is not truly for you," the queen said. "The title is more for Lady Hutton. You wouldn't wish for her to continue to carry Hutton in her name, would you? She needs to attain an equally high title for the ton to acknowledge her in a new light. And it will aid in the acceptance of society when you marry. It will also help your children, if you choose to have them, as it will afford them opportunities. Shouldn't you wish for that?"

Penelope had never seen Beckett look so stunned. His mouth opened and closed several times before he finally cleared his throat.

"But you are forgetting that we cannot—"

"This," Queen Adelaide emphasized, "is for you, Colonel. For both of you."

She held out a piece of paper to Beckett, who looked it over with a dazed expression before passing it to Penelope. She scanned it nearly three times before believing what it said.

"He...he signed this?"

"Oh, yes." There was no doubt that the queen was enjoying herself. "Since Leo knew of his whereabouts, I made certain of it. Hutton signed over the deeds to this estate, as well."

Penelope hadn't a clue what to say. She never imagined that this opportunity would come about, but oh God, it felt freeing.

"I will leave it up to you, of course," the queen added, "if you wish to make the divorce final."

"Yes," Penelope breathed. "A million times, yes."

"Well, then." Adelaide clapped her hands together before glancing at them both once more. "My lord, my lady...Do invite me to the wedding whenever you get around to it."

And with that, she strode away.

"Can you..." Penelope stared down at the paper. It shook between her fingers. "Can you believe this?"

But when she glanced up, Beckett was not there.

And soon, she realized why. Lowering the paper, she found him. There, at her feet. His eyes shone with adoration as he looked up and grabbed her hand.

"Penelope." His voice rasped before he cleared it. "I knew the moment I saw you that I wanted you. But then, wanting you wasn't enough. Having you once or twice wasn't enough. I realized that it would never be enough, and I did not simply want you. I wanted to keep you. I wanted to stay with you."

Penelope's throat clogged with even more emotion. Stay with you. Keep you. Want you. She hadn't imagined anyone to say those words to her, not ever. She dropped the parchment that Adelaide had handed her, not giving a damn about Lord Hutton anymore.

"Beckett," she gasped, lowering to her knees in front of him. The emotion that danced across his face cut through to her core. This was a man who was built to be stoic and ruthless, but he was none of those things. He looked at her like he realized there was good in the world for the very first time.

"I would very much like to give you a new name," he breathed. "I never did think that Hutton suited you."

Her stomach flipped. "I would like that," she whispered. "But I wish for you to know that if you do not want a title—"

"You are getting my name Penelope," he growled, lifting a hand to cup her face roughly. "And if that means it must be titled, then I should happily bear one."

She was smiling now, so widely and proudly. It felt like a dream, but one that not even she had thought possible.

"Beckett Ash, are you asking me to marry you?" she asked coyly, tipping her head to the side.

"Yes." The word came out softy, and there was a vulnerability in his gaze. "Penelope, will you marry me?"

A giddiness bubbled through her veins. "I would love nothing more than to marry you."

She had never found the prospect of marriage exciting, but Penelope was enthralled by the idea of marrying Beckett Ash. He was everything she had never thought existed, not for her anyway.

Beckett's expression could only be described as stunned, causing Penelope to frown.

"Had you thought I would refuse?" she asked with a light laugh.

"I—" He shook his head. "I had not known what to expect, Penelope. You are a lady, a—"

She placed a single finger over his lips. "And you are a man befitting the highest titles and accolades. Even the Queen of England agrees with me."

When he remained uncertain, she whispered the thing she had been falling into for quite some time, hoping it would be what they both needed.

"I love you, Beckett."

Beckett's restraint broke as he bent to give Penelope a fierce kiss, groaning against her mouth. "I love you, too. God, I love you, Penelope."

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Penelope realized that the darkness likely wouldn't cover them. If a guest wandered past the windows in the ballroom, they would see the two of them on their knees...but Penelope could not find it in her to care. Her mind was too busy racing into the future.

"When Her Majesty said children...." Penelope whispered. "I think I would love to have golden-haired children, Beckett."

He sucked in a breath, closing his eyes momentarily.

"Penelope, I—"

"Just think about it," she requested, and he nodded.

"I will think about it." Beckett pulled back, though she could tell it was done regretfully. He stood before lifting Penelope to stand beside him. When his eyes met hers, there was sincerity there. And softness. "I am terrified of losing you, darling."

"You won't," she insisted, promising herself she would do whatever she could to stay with him. "Will you survive here?" she added. "You are used to...adventures."

"Penelope...you are my greatest adventure," Beckett said, and she fought the urge to shake her head. She did not believe herself to be the greatest anything. But Beckett's expression made her change her mind. And she smiled when he added, "But perhaps if one day you wished to travel for a short time, I would love to take you."

She grinned. "I would happily go anywhere with you."

Beckett looked pleased by her response as he silently grabbed her hand, leading her off the terrace and into the gardens. Tension rustled between fabric and air as Beckett made his intent to hide them known. The darkness closed in as they wove into tall rose bushes. The moon poked through the branches just enough for Penelope to make out the hunger on Beckett's face.

That was why she was not shocked that Beckett turned around once they were deep enough in the garden, slowly stepped Penelope into the flowers, and passionately captured her lips.

"I cannot go back into that bathroom without tasting you," he groaned. "I feel as though I will implode, Penelope, and I do not know how to mask it. I love you so much, and I just need to—" He sucked in. "I just need to feel you around me."

"Don't," she pleased. "Do not mask it."

She loved that she could always tell what he wanted by glimpsing his expression.

Beckett grunted in reply as he began pressing hot, wet kisses to her jaw and neck. When his mouth started to suck on her décolletage, Penelope moaned, not bothering to stifle it as it rose into the air. She could still hear the music playing, leaking through the windows of the ballroom behind them. The music was their cover.

Too lost in the moment, Penelope hadn't been prepared when Beckett suddenly yanked her bodice down, exposing her breasts to the night air.

"Holy hell." Beckett's curse was muffled as he bent down to take her into his mouth. "You are so goddamn exquisite."

Penelope ignored the poking of the plants as she arched back, letting Beckett feast on her. His tongue licked and lapped, and she repeatedly whimpered, threading her fingers through his hair.

"You cannot tease me tonight," she gasped, knowing him all too well. He would carry on like this for heaven knows how long if allowed.

"Oh, I intended to tease you tonight." Beckett stood, his mouth sliding off her skin though his hands continued to knead her breasts eagerly. "Once I get you in bed, I intend to tease you until the sun comes up. But for now, I shall give you what you want."

"You know what I want, do you?" Penelope shot back, though she could not keep her hips from rocking against his as he stepped closer to her.

Beckett's lips curled wolfishly. "I do."

His hands made quick work of rucking her skirts up, just like that night he first kissed her.

Penelope let Beckett fumble with his trousers before she wrapped a leg around his waist. "What do I want, Beckett?"

Beckett leaned in and found her ear, nipping in it before murmuring in a husky voice. "You're a greedy little lady who wants to be fucked, Penelope." When she gasped, he added, "Just because the queen gave me a title does not mean I intend to be any more of a gentlemen. Understood?"

Penelope nodded. Tingles shot up her spine. Heat unfurled in her core. Rapid beats exploded in her chest. But it wasn't enough.

"But that's not all I want," she gasped, even as she felt Beckett prodding between her legs. He ran the tip of his cock through her wetness, teasing her like he promised not to do yet. "I want more than just...this."

The tone of Beckett's voice softened, and there was a hint of a question there. "You want me, Penelope."

"Yes," she cried. Him. All of him, whole and entirely hers. "Yes, Beckett."

He thrust into her with a groan, unable to hold back any longer. His pants hit her ear as he stilled with her, mumbling curses.

"I'm yours," he grunted. "I will give you more, love. I will give you everything. You have all of me."

Beckett did not waste any time showing Penelope precisely what he meant by that.

And it quickly became apparent that Beckett had been hers for longer than she realized. He had been hers. He was hers.

And she was his.

Penelope tipped her head back and watched the stars emerge from behind a cloud. A cool breeze fluttered across her skin.

It would seem a new season was on the horizon.