Page 43 of Summoner of Sins

Hugging her narrow waist, it offered a generous hint of her cleavage. “Tabbie,” she gasped as she turned this way and that to study her reflection.

Tabbie gave her a soft smile. “I wish I could do more. Today, I shall live vicariously through you.”

Sophie turned to her friend, softly reaching for her hands. “I have every confidence that you are going to marry.”

“I told you, I don’t want to marry.”

Sophie could see the fib dancing in her friend’s eyes, but she didn’t push. Tabbie had her reasons for being hesitant and for protecting herself. “But if you did decide, I know that you would not only be successful, you’d find the best sort of man.”

“Is that what Lord Maxwell is? The best?”

“Not for everyone, but he’s perfect for me. That’s the part that takes a bit of teasing out, I think. He doesn’t have to be perfection, just right, correct, for you.”

Tabbie nipped at her lip. “That is interesting. You know if I thought that future was for me...”

“If.” Sophie leaned forward and kissed her friend’s cheek.

Arm and arm they left the room, Ironheart meeting them at the top of the stairs. He offered his arm to Sophie. “I hoped to escort you to the ceremony and perhaps walk you down the aisle.”

Sophie couldn’t explain how much she appreciated that. Abigail appeared in a darling dress that Sophie was certain Tabbie had provided. Sophie leaned down, kissing her sister on the cheek before Ironheart swung the girl up into his arms. Abigail went willingly, her small hand resting on his cheek.

“When did you two become friends?” Sophie asked, her brows raising.

“I needed a story last night,” Abigail said.

Ironheart winked. “I’ve long been told my orations are excellent.”

Tabbie snorted. “Orations? That’s a big word for—” She stopped when Ironheart’s face notably fell. Clearing his throat, Ironheart set down Abigail, taking her hand as he offered his other arm to Sophie.

With Tabbie a step behind, they made their way out to the garden. The wedding was about to begin.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Max stood next to the vicar, shifting from foot to foot as he waited for Sophie. He’d left in the night, but in his heart, he’d wanted to stay. The longer it took for her to appear, the more restless he grew. Last night had been…

He’d never experienced the like. His connection to Sophie was more than he’d ever dreamed and when he was away from her, he didn’t feel right. She’d reordered his world, and he already couldn’t imagine it without her.

Sophie finally appeared with Ironheart. His breath caught in his throat as he stared. She could not be his. She was too—he swallowed down a lump—perfect. He’d never seen a woman look more beautiful.

Abigail, too excited to wait, raced down the path toward him. He swept her up in his arms, settling her on one side as Sophie approached, her smile so joyful, he grinned back, surely looking like a fool. He didn’t care. Now, he bounced on his toes, Abigail bouncing with him as Sophie came toward them.

Ironheart handed her off, stepping to Max’s other side as Tabbie stood next to Sophie. Together, they promised to love, honor, and cherish each other until death do they part. Max felt every word as he set Abigail down to take both of Sophie’s hands. This was his whole life. His heart. His soul.

“You may kiss the bride,” the vicar announced.

Max leaned in, capturing Sophie’s lips with his and sealing the bond that no man could ever tear asunder.

Abigail hopped on one foot and then the other, dancing. “We found a home,” she sang. Then, she stopped. “Will Ironheart live with us?”

“No.”

They all laughed.

“But we can all visit.”

“Often,” Ironheart added with a chuckle.

Making their way back inside, Sophie clung to Max’s arm, her cheek brushing his biceps. They went through the garden and back to the dining room where a wedding breakfast had been laid out. They hadn’t been dining long when the butler appeared at the door.

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