Page 48 of Catching Captain Nash

“At least he’s big enough to stop any fights,” Morwenna said with a fond laugh.

“Not that he gets much practice with his perfect wife and perfect children,” Robert said wryly. “He should come and pour oil on troubled waters at my house. That would really test his skills.”

Morwenna cast him a sardonic glance. “Your children are perfect.”

He rolled his eyes. “When they’re asleep. Maybe.”

“You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He shook his dark head. “No, I love their spirit. They get it from their mother.”

She arched her eyebrows. “Are you saying she’s not perfect either?”

His smile held such a wealth of unconditional love, her breath caught. “She’s perfect for me.”

“Oh, Robert…” Even after all these years, he maintained the ability to turn her heart to syrup.

He leaned in, juggling the baby, and kissed her. “I love you, my darling.”

“And I love you.” She blinked away the misty haze in front of her eyes. “We’ve been lucky, haven’t we?”

They had, despite their years of heartbreak and separation. Robert had needed a long time to recover from his captivity and find his way on land instead of on the water, but they had made a good life in Devon. And Morwenna could never doubt how much he loved his family. And her. “Yes, we’ve been blessed.”

Holding Anne with one powerful arm, Robert slung the other around his wife’s shoulders. As Helena called “go” to start 1837’s Dashing Widows Cup, Morwenna leaned against her husband in perfect contentment. She barely spared a glance for the riders down in the field.

As far as she was concerned, it didn’t matter a fig who won the Dashing Widows Cup today. What mattered was that in the game of life, all the Dashing Widows had emerged victorious.

THE END