Page 94 of A Spinster for the Cold Duke

“Then listen to your heart now,” Henry said, his voice rough with emotion. “Because mine is telling me that I would face every scandal in London ten times over if it meant having you by my side. You have changed me, challenged me, and made me want to be better than I ever thought possible. I simplycannotimagine a future without you in it. And society can go to hellif they have anything to think about it.” The vehemence in his voice made her gasp. “I don’t want their expectations or their approval. I don’t want anything but you, Annabelle. Just you, exactly as you are.”

He dropped to one knee beside her chair and took her trembling hands in his. “Please, marry me. Not because it’s practical or expected, but because I love you beyond reason and cannot bear the thought of living without you.”

“Henry…” Her voice broke on his name.

“Marry me, Annabelle Lytton,” he repeated. His eyes blazed with desperate hope. “Let me spend the rest of my life proving that you are everything I could ever want.”

Instead of answering with words, Annabelle leaned forward and captured his lips with hers. The kiss was hungry. It was full of months of suppressed longing and the sweet relief of finally surrendering to the inevitable.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Henry rested his forehead against hers.

“Is that a yes?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered against his lips. “Yes, to everything.”

EPILOGUE

THREE MONTHS LATER

“You look absolutely radiant, my dear,” Lady Oakley declared as she adjusted the delicate pearl necklace at Annabelle’s throat. “Though I must say, the Duke appears ready to spirit you away before the ceremony even begins.”

Annabelle glanced toward the drawing room where Henry stood with his friend Everett, the Marquess of Southall. His dark eyes found hers across the space with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.

Three months had passed since that tumultuous night when Florentia’s schemes had finally been exposed, and today,finally,they were to be married.

“I think he’s worried I might change my mind,” Annabelle murmured, smoothing her ivory silk gown.

“Nonsense,” Lady Oakley scoffed. “That man would follow you to the ends of the earth. Though I suspect he’d prefer to keep you much closer to home.”

At that, Annabelle blushed.

The ceremony itself was intimate. It was held in the gardens of the Blakesley residence, with only their dearest friends and family present. Celia beamed from the front row, practically vibrating with excitement, while Emma dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. Victor stood beside her with their daughter Eleanor balanced on his hip. The toddler’s dark curls bounced as she clapped her hands at the pretty lady in white.

Emma had returned from Cornwall with her husband Victor and her children over a month ago, and it had been a chaotic catching up during all that time. Annabelle couldn’t help but smile as she remembered her dearest friend’s righteous anger when she’d heard Florentia’s schemes.

That was all behind them now, thankfully.

When Henry spoke his vows, his voice was steady but thick with emotion. “I promise to love you not in spite of your independence, but because of it. You have made me a better man, Annabelle, and I vow to spend every day proving worthy of your trust.”

Annabelle’s own vows were simpler but no less heartfelt. “I choose you, Henry. Not because society expects it, but becausemy heart demands it. You have shown me that love doesn’t diminish us. It only makes us stronger.”

The wedding breakfast was a lively affair, with conversation flowing as freely as the champagne. Annabelle found herself pulled into animated discussions with each of their guests, and her new husband never strayed far from her side.

“So, tell me,” Emma said, appearing at Annabelle’s elbow with a knowing smile, “how does it feel to be a duchess?”

“Terrifying,” Annabelle admitted with a laugh. “Though I suspect I’ll grow into it.”

Emma laughed. “Oh, you will,” she assured her.

Joanna joined the conversation. “After all, you’ve already mastered the art of managing a duke.” This, she said with a wiggle of her brows.

“Speaking of managing,” Emma said, her eyes twinkling with mischief, “I have news that might interest you both. I’m expecting again.”

“Emma!” Annabelle gasped while embracing her friend warmly. “How wonderful! When?”

“Early spring, if all goes well. Victor is convinced it’s a boy this time, though I suspect he’d be just as delighted with another daughter.”

“We must celebrate properly when you return from your honeymoon,” Joanna declared as she raised her glass of champagne. “The Athena Society has been rather dull without its founding members.”

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