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"Wait." She stopped him.

He looked miserable, as if someone had just
announced the world was going to end.

"I have a gift for you."

"I-I don't need a gift," he stuttered. "Just
you. I hope you understand my love for you."

Katherine stomped on his foot. Truly the
nerve of the man, beating her to the punch!

"What the—? What was that for?" He cursed and
began hopping.

"I was going to say that, you cad!"

"What?" He cursed again, ripely. "Apparently
pain is blocking my ability to think. You were going to say
what?"

"That I love you!" She threw her hands up in
the air. She had wanted to say it first, to offer it to him as a
gift so he knew she trusted him, wanted to belong to him. "Men!"
she screamed at nobody in general, though a few women walking up
the stairs began to clap.

"I'm sorry?" he offered, then backed up, no
doubt afraid she would somehow wound him again.

"Well…" She crossed her arms. "I imagine it's
fine. The moment's gone now."

"Can't you say it, at least for my benefit?
You have nearly broken my foot."

"If I was aiming to break it, I would
have."

"Oh, how true that is," Benedict
muttered.

"You'll just have to make it up to me."
Katherine managed a small smile and hooked her arm within his.
"Let's go indoors before your toes freeze off as well."

He smiled and patted her arm. "I'm sorry
about tonight, about Maria and…"

Katherine stopped walking. "Let us not speak
of it again, agreed?"

"Agreed." His brow furrowed deeply, but he
didn't speak. Instead he escorted her into the Kringle Ball with a
confused look etched across his ducal countenance. Benedict's eyes
narrowed, but he did not say a word.

Benedict hadn't spoken
of
the incident the entire night, but still noted the hurt
he saw in Katherine's eyes. Saints alive! He wanted her trust,
needed it. As well as guidance, but he had none. Nobody.

He sighed. Now was as good a time as any to
read the note. It had been burning a hole in his pocket since it
had been discovered. And now, as he watched Katherine weave through
the crowds at the ball, the woman he had unintentionally hurt, he
needed his aunt's comfort more than ever. So he walked to the
corner and unfolded the letter.

Benedict, when I discovered my sickness
would take me. I was bitter. I was angry. But mostly, you must
understand my fear.

My two boys, the ones I helped raise, albeit
with a strict hand, were going to be without me.

You, specifically Benedict, without any sort
of living female relative or matriarch.

And I thought to myself, how can I leave him
behind? How can I allow my body to deteriorate and wither away when
my nephew needs so much guidance?

I have stood by and watched you make
mistakes.

I have kept my mouth closed when you paraded
with your mistresses.

We all have wild oats, by Jove. You'd have
an apoplexy if you knew of mine.

It may have appeared that I did not approve,
and perhaps, according to society, I did not, but I loved you. I
loved you desperately, and I have only wanted what is best for
you.

I would move heaven and earth for you, my
boy. For Baldwyn, too.

You see…

When your mother died, I gave her a promise.
I told her you would be better than the men before you in your
family, but I knew even then that it would take a different
strategy of sorts.

Rather than smother you, I allowed you your
mistakes. Rather than coddle you, I pretended to be upset and
turned my nose at your escapades. Your fear of me did not hinder my
love, if anything it brought me joy, for I knew deep down that you
cared, even when you claimed you didn't.

As I write this letter, I have only a few
months to go on living in this world before I irritate God in
His.

And I wondered, what could I possibly give
Benedict? What could I leave him?

Her.

I wanted you to have her.

She reminds me of myself. She is strong, she
is opinionated, she is clumsy. After all, she did try to kill you
on several occasions, not a small feat, might I add.

If I leave you her, if you marry, then you
will not be left alone in this world, but you will have a true
family of your own. You see, my boy, we are more alike than you
know. Our personalities push the limits and rejoice in the scandal
and fear we bring to others. It is control, it is power, but it is
not living. It is not happiness.

I want happiness for you.

I want you to have that love. I want you to
marry her and protect her, to cherish her, to love her with a
fierceness unmatched by anyone else.

This is my dying wish, my gift to you, the
legacy I leave behind.

As well as half my estate… I only ask that
you fill those many summer homes with the laughter of children,
though I imagine you've already been working on that part behind my
back, you rogue.

Remember, I love you.

Agatha

That little minx! Benedict wasn't sure
whether to laugh or cry. She'd known. The woman had known the
entire time. She truly had picked Katherine out for him. She'd just
tricked him as he suspected. But it was a glorious trick, one for
the history books no doubt, for he would fall for it all over
again.

He glanced up to see Katherine
approaching.

After everything they'd been through, he knew
he was going to have to create one more scandal.

One more show of devotion.

So he didn't walk.

He didn't even smile.

With fierce determination, he tucked the note
into his jacket pocket and ran, as fast as his legs would take him,
toward her.

His family.

Gasps were heard throughout the ballroom. The
music came to a halt, but he couldn't care less.

All he saw was
her
.

All he wanted was
her
.

All he needed in this world was
her
.

Unshed tears blurred his vision. His hands
reached out to grasp Katherine, but touching her was not enough.
With little effort, he lifted her into the air and twirled her
around before crushing his lips to hers, in such a kiss that he was
sure even Agatha saw the scandal from heaven.

"I love you," he said and kissed her
again.

"I love
you
," she replied as tears
streamed down her cheeks. Katherine wrapped her arms around him,
opened her mouth to him, and kissed him so passionately he wanted
to weep. As well as boast, if he was being quite honest. He
remembered the Duke of Tempest causing a similar scandal a few
years back.

"So…" She drew back. "…the Devil Duke creates
yet another scandal."

"Oh, be sure there will be many more to
come." He set her to her feet.

"Really?" She lifted an eyebrow.

"Yes, for he also plans to marry. To stay
true to his wife, if she'll have him. To have loads of children,
naming the first Agatha of course, because naturally she wouldn't
allow us to have a boy first."

"Naturally." Katherine giggled.

"My heart… it's yours." He kissed her
forehead. "It's yours forever. If you'll have it."

"Well, you did finally learn how to
smile…"

He nodded.

"And, you have ruined me on numerous
occasions."

His grin widened.

"Not to mention," she added, "the fact that
I'm irrevocably in love with you as well."

And that was when the Devil Duke burst out
laughing, causing an even greater scandal to sweep the
ton
,
for it was the first time anyone ever heard him laugh.

"Christmas miracle?" people whispered amongst
themselves.

But Benedict didn't care. He had his love,
his life, his family, and he had his aunt to thank for that. God
bless her. She had given him the best gift of all.

The gift of family.

Three years later.

"Agatha!" Benedict screamed.
They
were going to be late for the Kringle Ball, and his
daughter of two was currently running through the house naked.

Like father, like daughter he supposed.

His valet still hadn't quit, but he knew one
day he would lose his mind. If anything, Benedict's own nakedness
had become worse what with having a wife around all the time.

Clothes? Who needed clothes?

His valet did not agree.

Nor did his butler, but he gave them enough
bonuses every Boxing Day not to care, so he figured he was
safe.

"Agatha," he said quietly when she approached
him giggling. "You need to go upstairs with Nanna. Mother and I are
leaving for the night. Can you do that for us?"

She shook her head no.

Of course.

He swore up and down that Agatha, while in
heaven, chatted up God and told him how amusing it would be to gift
them with a child who took exactly after both their parents, to a
fault.

And God, being in good humor and loving
Agatha as he should, granted her this one boon.

Little Agatha smiled up at him and giggled
again, his heart thumped with joy. "You must get some clothes on
before Mother sees you."

"Before I see what exactly?" Katherine
floated down the stairs looking every inch the duchess, and every
inch the seductress. Heavens, how he loved her. It seemed the
longer they were married the more their love grew, until most days
he felt so stupidly happy that he couldn't wipe the smile off his
face if he tried.

"Happy anniversary, love." Katherine kissed
him on the cheek then looked down. "Agatha, sweetheart, why aren't
you wearing clothes?"

"Papa!" Agatha squealed. "No clothes
too!"

Katherine glared at Benedict. He winked
shamelessly and then she blushed from the roots of her hair down
her glorious neck. He leaned forward to take a peek down her
dress.

She pushed him away. "Those are the very
things you should not be doing in front of your daughter. She
already copies everything else."

They both looked down at their grinning
little girl and laughed.

Nanna came rushing down the stairs and
scooped up Agatha, scolding her for running away during bath
time.

"She takes after you," Katherine said.

"Does not."

"Does too! She runs around naked and ignores
anyone's pleas to do otherwise!"

"She also tried to kill me three times. So
who exactly does she take after in that regard?"

"It was four," Katherine argued. "And she
didn't try to kill you. They were all accidents. It wasn't her
fault you fell into the pond while taking her for a walk, or out of
the tree when getting her an apple. You just need to be more
careful."

Benedict grimaced,
careful
and his
daughter were not anywhere near the same thing. The more he coddled
her, the more it seemed she wanted to do something daring.

Unfortunately, it reminded him of himself,
which frightened him more than words could express.

Luckily, he had Katherine.

And with her, he could do anything.

"Why are you smiling?" Katherine put her
hands on her hips, tilting her head.

"Why shouldn't I be smiling?" His grin
grew.

"You look like you're about to do
something…"

He grabbed her hands and ran into the study,
shoving the door closed behind them and with little effort lifted
her skirts.

"Benedict!" she scolded. "What are you doing!
We're going to be late!"

"Then we'll be late. I am a duke after
all."

His argument to get away with anything.

She rolled her eyes and squirmed happily
beneath his touch. "But it's our anniversary and everyone is going
to want to see us. Oh!" She leaned in and kissed him. "Maybe just
this once.

"That's my girl." He kissed her firmly across
the mouth.

And an hour later, when they arrived at the
ball hand in hand, Benedict's past reputation was merely a shadow
on everyone's lips. Had he really been all that bad? People wanted
to know. For what they saw now was a man completely changed from
the one he had once been.

And it was all because his aunt had loved him
enough to trick him. God rest her soul.

Read Baldwyn and Anastasia's side of the story in

TWO TURTLEDOVES

by Leah Sanders