Clara was sitting comfortably on Leo's lap. They were all alone in the gazebo with only the stars as witnesses to their love. Leo kept kissing her and nuzzling her, he couldn't help it. It felt like he was holding his wife after what seemed like an eternity.

He could hardly believe his luck. He'd always thought that he wasn't destined to be completely happy. But it seemed like god had more than made up for his terrible childhood.

He had a beautiful and loving wife and he had a daughter. He couldn't refer to Isabelle as just his ward anymore. They were a family now, a family he was more than happy to expand, he thought wickedly.

"I'm sorry I hurt you, mon coeur. And I should've spoken about my parents earlier.."

Clara put a finger on his lips.

He shook his head. He had to talk this time, he wanted to.

"No, I want to tell you."

She just sat like that, stroking his hair, waiting for him to continue.

"My father was mad about my mother, she was a great beauty and part French. I don't know why she chose to stray, I was too young to understand what exactly was happening and confront her. But I knew it was wrong. I used to see my father weep in his study, clutching his bottle of rum every time my mom 'entertained' one of her lovers. He was too weak to stop her. I spent my entire childhood alone, the servants would throw me pitying glances."

Clara was looking at her husband's face closely. He looked like he was so much pain, it undid her. She couldn't bear to watch him that way. But he wasn't done yet.

"When I found Crane, my life changed. I wasn't the 'poor lonely child' anymore. I wasn't as charming, as boisterous as him, but I had some life in me. I could finally behave like a normal boy. I never missed my parents, I never missed that wretched house. And one might think that I didn't like it when Annie came into his life because he didn't give me as much time as before. But that's not correct. I genuinely grew fond of her, I couldn't help it. She was just as charming and funny as Crane. Besides, I was busy with my studies by then and hardly felt his absence."

Leo's hold on her hand tightened a bit. She squeezed his hand in return.

"I lost both of them. But I have you and Isabelle now. And I'll make sure neither of you ever feels unloved or uncared for. I also have a more selfish reason to care for Isabelle. It's my way of thanking Crane and Annie for everything they ever did for me."

He smiled at Clara, seemingly at peace and she smiled back. He had finally accepted his friends' loss and was trying to move forward. He would never be rid of the pain entirely, but still.

They sat still for a few minutes, because it didn't seem like they needed to speak. The silence was comfortable, companionable.

"Is there anything else you want to tell me?" Clara asked softly.

"I wish to tell you that I'm really proud of you. I heard about the success of your new book. I think I know who the "greedy vulture - Roberta" is," he laughed and kissed the tip of her nose.

"I was rather obvious, was I not?" she giggled. Pleased that he'd read it.

Just then they heard a twig break and then some muttering.

They immediately got up to find a very angry Rebecca emerging from the bushes with as much dignity as one could muster when they had twigs and leaves adorning their coiffure.

It took a lot of effort for Leo and Clara to keep from laughing outright.

"So you're the one writing those offensive and inappropriate novels, huh?" She said by a way of greeting.

All the blood drained from Clara's face.

She began to deny it but then she stayed silent because really, it was pointless.

"I shall ruin you."

And then she addressed Leo,"you rejected me for this trollop? I'm way better than her..."

"Say one more word about my wife and I'll make sure you lose your ability to speak." Leo cut her off, his voice dangerously low, his body emitting rage in waves. It sent a shiver of delight down Clara's back.

"I'm leaving," Rebecca said and stomped off like the child she was. But Clara knew this hadn't ended here. She knew Rebecca would go out of her way to turn Clara's life into a living hell.

"What did she mean when she said you rejected her?" Clara asked Leo once they were seated in the carriage, on their way to the Duke's townhouse.

No, their townhouse.

"I might have forgotten to mention that before I met, a long time before I met you, Lady Rebecca had tried to dig her claws into me. I had ascertained her poisonous personality in minutes, obviously and made it very clear in a very humiliating way that I didn't want her," he shrugged.

"No wonder she was behaving like a wildcat ever since we got betrothed," Clara laughed, delighted.

Leo laughed with her, happy that Clara wasn't angry about this.

"You do realise that she isn't going to keep her mouth shut about my writing, don't you?" she asked.

He nodded.

"We'll weather it, no matter what comes."

She smiled and nodded.

As the carriage slowed down, Clara was nervous. Tonight was going to be it.

She was going to ask her husband to deflower her.

She'd kept him waiting long enough. And after they'd confessed their love to each other today, she didn't want to hold back any part of herself from him. She wanted to be his in every sense and wanted him to know that she was his, body and soul.

After they'd retired to their chambers and changed into their respective night gowns, Clara knocked on his door. They didn't have a connecting door here like the one in Montrose.

So she was standing in the dark hallway, wringing her hands together, nervous beyond reason. She was wearing her best night gown or rather the most naughty one.

Her trunk had been sent here a few minutes after they'd arrived. Clara was grateful for that.

Leo opened the door, the confusion on his face clearing and being replaced by a very strange expression.

He knew why she stood there, he didn't have to ask. He wanted to, it was the gentlemanly thing to do. But his mouth was too dry and tongue too thick.

Finally.

He pulled her in and kicked the door shut.

"Are you sure?" he croaked out, with a lot of difficulty.

She just nodded, a blush settling on her creamy cheeks.

He finally looked down to see what she wore and almost had a cardiac arrest.

Was she trying to kill him?

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" He said hoarsely, pulling her closer.

"What if I am?" she smirked, shocking him.

But he recovered quickly,"my my, someone's feisty tonight. You had all those men eating out of your hands," he said in an almost accusing tone.

She laughed a throaty laugh, "are you jealous, your grace?"

"Of course I am. When I saw those pricks salivating over you, I felt like castrating every one of them." he grumbled, his hands resting on her bottom.

He was moving his rands in a circular motion that was affecting Clara's ability to think and she couldn't discern if he was doing it on purpose.

"Salivating? You make it sound like I am a piece of pastry," she said, amused.

"Yes and I'll show you just how much I love eating pastry tonight," he said fiercely.

She actually laughed out, unable to contain it.

He stared at her at first and then began to laugh.

"You're so lame," she said still laughing, her eyes watering.

"I love you," he whispered as he suddenly carried her to the bed.

"I love you too," she said, shyly.

And those were the last coherent words they spoke that night.