Page 140 of Regent Street Rogue
Butof course, he was Harry’s brother. The resemblance was almost uncanny.
She had pieced together fragments of Lord Reginald’s story over the past few weeks, learning more about the younger brother Harry had worked so hard to protect. As the captain of thePhantom Gale, he had taken on the dangerous task of working with Harry to sink Crossings’ ships—acts shrouded in secrecy to keep his involvement hidden.
“My lord.” She offered her hand, though her voice carried a hint of disbelief. “It’s an honor to meet you.”
Lord Reginald’s lips curved into a rakish grin as he took her hand. “The honor is mine, my lady,” he said, bowing over her fingers. His silver eyes sparkled with mischief as he straightened. “I never thought I’d see my brother looking so happy. You must be incredibly special… or possess some kind of magic. Which is it?”
Melanie’s cheeks warmed. “I assure you, it’s nothing as extraordinary as that.”
In a gesture so similar to his brother’s that it was a little startling, Lord Reginald tilted his head. “I’m not so sure. Malum is a stubborn one, you know. It would take something remarkable to soften him up like this.”
She glanced at Harry, who rolled his eyes but didn’t bother to argue, just the faintest hint of a smile to betray his affection.
Melanie’s heart swelled as she realized just how much love surrounded this reunion—and how fortunate she was to be part of it.
With his dark hair falling rakishly across his forehead, Lord Reginald turned again to his brother. “The offer still stands, doesn’t it?” he asked, hesitating before adding, “To stand up with you?”
“Of course,” Harry replied, his voice a little thick.
“And your other offer?”
“Absolutely.” Harry dipped his chin, his lips twitching at the corner. “We’ll talk.”
Lord Reginald clapped his brother on the shoulder one more time before moving on, the line of guests waiting impatiently behind him too long to linger.
Melanie turned to Harry. “What other offer?” she asked.
“I’ve asked Reg to manage theDomusfor me,” he said simply, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Melanie blinked, her lips parting in surprise. “Are you sure?”
Harry met her gaze steadily. “I was thinking that you and I could move on to one of those other ventures we discussed.”
“Which one?” Melanie asked, although she suspected she knew.
“The home—the retreat.”
A retreat was something Melanie had suggested—a facility or home designed to help women, to give them opportunities and support rather than take advantage of their vulnerabilities.
She hadn’t thought she could be any happier tonight, but of course, Harry would prove her wrong.
“You don’t have to,” she whispered, her voice catching.
“I know.” Malum’s expression gentled, his thumb brushing lightly against her hand. “But I want to. And this works out best for all of us.”
Her throat tightened, and she fought the urge to fling her arms around him right there in the receiving line. “I think,” she said haltingly, “that sounds wonderful.”
They couldn’t say more; there were still many guests waiting at the door, and their role took precedence in this moment. But the words lingered, another quiet promise between them.
At last, the final guest passed through, and the grand ballroom doors opened with a flourish. Harry turned to Melanie, his expression calm yet filled with anticipation. Extending his arm to her, he said, “Shall we?”
Melanie nodded, her heart full to bursting.
Together, they stepped into the dazzling ballroom, where the chandeliers sparkled above, almost—but not quite—as bright as their future.
—The End?—
