Page 121 of The Duke's Inconvenient Bride
“I know.” Emma walked closer and sent them a reassuring smile. “Thank you for the apology. But everything turned out for the best, and I forgive you.”
Their shoulders slumped, their faces becoming identical masks of relief.
Lord Carlisle stood, wrapped his arm around her, and kissed her forehead. “Let’s get you married to your duke.”
Lady Carlisle’s eyes twinkled as she joined them and kissed Emma’s cheek. “Again.”
Vaughan waitedin the garden behind Carlisle House. He was a little too warm despite the overcast sky, and every time he inhaled, he got a lungful of pollen. The Carlisles’ gardener was apparently something of a naturalist given the way they didn’t seem to believe in trimming or containing anything.
Nevertheless, there was something beautiful about the wildness of the garden.
A string quartet began to play a short distance from Vaughan, indicating that Emma would be arriving soon. Longley winked at Vaughan from the front row, and the dowager countess flashed him a smile.
Emma’s sisters appeared, each wearing dresses in a different shade of blue—Violet’s was jewel toned and Sophie’s more pastel—and sat on the side of the makeshift aisle opposite Longley.
Only a few people were present, including Emma’s immediate family, and her maid, who’d been given permissionto attend as a guest, although she was lingering in the back. While none of them seemed to know what to think of this ceremony, they were humoring it, smiling and watching with interest.
Lady Carlisle swept across the garden and lowered herself onto a seat beside her daughters.
Vaughan gazed steadily in the direction Emma would be coming from. A sense of rightness bloomed in his chest. When Emma came into view, walking with her hand on her father’s arm, a lump lodged in Vaughan’s throat.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Never had he seen anyone so beautiful.
She’d told him that she would wear the same dress she had when they’d wed at St. George’s, so he supposed he’d seen her thusly attired, but he hadn’t paused to appreciate her then. That was a travesty, and he’d never repeat the mistake. He was now intelligent enough to know that his wife deserved proper admiration.
She moved gracefully, her head held high, and he met her eyes. They sparkled, blue and full of life. He felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth and was sure he was staring at her like a sappy fool. He didn’t care.
When she and her father drew near, Lord Carlisle offered her arm to Vaughan.
“Take good care of her,” he murmured.
“I will,” Vaughan said.
He walked with her until they reached the celebrant, and then turned and took her hands in his.
This time, when he said his vows, he meant them with every fiber of his being. His words were infused with sincerity, and he hoped Emma could see that he took them as seriously as an oath.
She said her vows, and he watched her pretty pink lips move as she promised to honor and cherish him forever. He ached tocradle her face between his palms and kiss her, but it was more important for him to bask in this moment.
Emma was glorious, and he’d been a fool not to see that from the start.
Once the vows were complete, they exchanged rings for a second time. Vaughan slid his ring onto Emma’s delicate finger, filled with a sense of satisfaction at the symbol of possession. She was his, he was hers, and now that they were married twice over, no one could ever doubt it.
As the celebrant declared their vows renewed, he brushed his lips over hers in a featherlight kiss, then intensified it as he felt her mouth curve into a smile.
“I love you, wife,” he said.
“I love you, too, husband.”
Together, they turned toward their guests.
Lord and Lady Carlisle were the first to congratulate them on a lovely ceremony—and was it just Vaughan’s imagination, or were there tears in Lady Carlisle’s eyes?
Longley followed suit, and the dowager countess dispensed with formality, dragging Vaughan into a tight embrace.
“You’re going to be very happy together,” she said softly. “I can already see that.”
“Thank you,” he replied.
