Of Marriage and Murder ✔️ | Of Crimes and Crowns Book 1

thirty-six: of chases and celebrations

The two men did not get a foot out of their seats before guards tackled them to the ground. One guard Filipian, the other Xiangjin, both of them muscular and bulky enough to dwarf the two men's relatively petite frames.

Natasha wanted to stand up and cheer. Instead, she let a smile spread across her face, and kissed Connor on the cheek. "It's over," she said in a tremulous voice, like the truth was a glass figurine that would break if handled improperly.

"It's over." His baritone was much more reassuring. "It's finally over."

He threw his arms around her, and she allowed herself to break decorum for once, embracing him with equal ferocity. His body was not the source of her protection, not now, not in this time of celebration. It was jubilation, the source of the joy and love and triumph that thrummed through her body like it was part of her blood or her bones.

"What are you thinking of?" Connor asked her as they separated to watch Harold and Farrow being hauled away to prison. It was the same question he had asked her that morning, and she was more than eager to answer it.

"I'm thinking that I love you, and I am so happy that we have the rest of our lives ahead of us to be together." She smiled at him; it felt foreign after so many glares and scowls. "I'm thinking... that you will make a wonderful father."

He stumbled back, eyes wide. "Do you mean... are you...?"

"Yes." She nodded, she laughed. "I do mean. I am."

Connor hesitantly reached for her, his gentleness at odds with how fiercely he had embraced her only a moment ago. "How far along is the child?"

She answered his question for him. Giving him what he didn't know he'd needed, and placed his hand on her still-flat stomach. "There's still eight months."

"That's soon," he breathed, pupils blown, grey eyes wide. "When did you find out?"

"Last week. I worried I was ill, perhaps having brought back some disease form Xianggang... but no, it was joyous news instead that the doctor gave me."

"Tasha!" They both turned in perfect synchronization to see Dominica and Sasha heading towards them; Sasha at a clipped pace and Dominica almost running, almost undignified. "There's to be a great ball, then, with cake and wine and dancing. Won't you join us?" Dominica added grudgingly to Connor, "And you too?"

"We would be most delighted to join you. Although I am afraid I could only find enjoyment in two out of three of the things you have mentioned." Connor squeezed her hand tightly, with a happiness that almost hurt. She watched their reactions.

"Wha—?" Dominica's mouth fell open. "Are you quite ill? Have you hurt yourself?"

Sasha nudged her. "No, silly, she's with child!"

"But—" Dominica still looked shellshocked. "We're going to be aunts?"

Sasha shrugged as the four of them walked towards presumably a reception hall of some sort. "Technically, Tasha and I already are."

"Of course," Dominica said, sounding even more dazed than Connor was. "Of course. But, our littlest sister—!"

Natasha rolled her eyes good-natured-ly. "Life goes on, Dominica. We are none of us so little anymore, are we?"

She walked ahead of Connor, and he released her as the three of them linked arms. Dominica's head resting on Natasha's shoulder, Sasha holding herself slightly away from them, but still as much a part of their conversation as the other two sisters.

"How have you been, Tasha?" Dominica asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Physically well, and with enough time and the desire to do that which begets people with children," here she gave a wink, "of course, but I don't suppose any of us expected Harold to be such a... such a..."

"A scoundrel?" suggested Sasha. "A turncoat? A complete and utter—"

"Rat!" Natasha squealed as one darted across the hall, nearly scurrying over their toes. Sasha stepped backwards more gracefully than Natasha's frenzied stumble into the arms of her husband, but both of them were terrified at the prospect of nearing the rodent.

Dominica sighed at her sisters' fears and made to scoop the rat in her covered hands and carry it into a safe place. Once she had done so, her two sisters shrieked at her to burn her gloves before joining the inner circle once more. Connor watched on in perhaps too much amusement, and she elbowed him in the side with a sniff. "Rats are terrible creatures, nothing to laugh at. And they are a perfectly sensible fear."

"I wasn't laughing at your terror," he assured them. "Only at the sight of supposedly dignified queens falling apart at the sight of one small critter."

"One small, disease-carrying, plague-wielding creature," Sasha snapped. "I should hope Dominica washes her hands with lye before coming near us."

"I see," Connor said rather cheerily.

"Well, let us continue on, then," Dominica said when she returned. "On with things!"

"Dominica," Natasha said, aiming to be sweet, "Are you aware of the dozens of illnesses you could have contracted simply by breathing near that... vile creature's miasma? We must summon a doctor at once!"

Dominica rolled her eyes this time. "I shall be fine. If anything, I may die from your incessant worry. The rat did not bite me, I was covering my face with my hood and my skirt, and my gloves protected me from it. You lot are all ninnies."

Sasha stomped her foot. "Are not!"

They continued in that vein all the way to the party, and Natasha did not think she had ever been more pleased to see people argue. Perhaps because she knew it wouldn't last, but still. Somehow fighting gave her a warm loving atmosphere—because it meant they cared. They meant something to each other, else-wise would have nothing to fight for.

They entered a grand ballroom with Sasha and Dominica standing next to each other, Connor and Natasha holding hands. As promised, there was cake and wine and dancing—Connor immediately took two pieces for himself and Natasha.

"The chocolate gateau is too sweet, I think," confessed Natasha, waiting for Connor to recognize the line.

"Unlike you," he quipped. They were the first lines they had truly spoken to each other in that carriage seemingly a lifetime ago, the beginning of their lives together. "It's still true, you know."

They both grinned, leaning against each other as they finished the last of their respective plates of cake. Connor set their plates done on a table and outstretched his hand.

"Dance with me."

"A command, not a question?"

"Well, it's only fair, considering my wife gives me orders all the time." A wry smile crossed his face. "In fact, I believe one of those demands was how we first met."

"It was... but it's not how we'll go on."

"What do you mean?" He asked, looking down at her in surprise as the music swirled around them.

"From now on, whatever we do..." She released a sigh, let go of her control. "We do it as equals. As a team. And I know that how we started out was... unconventional. I know you did not choose me, that over time we grew to care for each other, but I'm telling you now. I choose you, because I love you. But I have a question... if you could do it all over again, if you had the choice... would you choose me? Would you choose Natasha and Connor together, would you choose this?"

"No," Connor said with a shake of his head, and she was terrified for a moment, her heart constricting so tightly in her chest she thought it might bust through her ribcage and splinter her bones, before he continued. "I would choose Connor and Tasha, together."

Natasha laughed, as they moved together in perfect syncopation.

Two hearts beating as one, two lonely, marooned souls fitting together at last.

The sequel, Of Heirs and Havoc, is on my profile now!