Page 89 of Her Tempting Traitor
Lesswonderful, perhaps, was the reception Aunt Sophia had arranged afterwards, which required Cassian to not only be on his best behavior, but also remember everyone’s names and relationships to everyone else, an impossible task.
Thank fook Gabby was at his side during the reception line.
“Congratulations!” a woman who was almost certainly Marcia cried, throwing her arms first around Gabby, then Cassian. “I am so happy for you both!”
Her new husband Buzzard—Buzzard? Hawk—was more circumspect, but his grin seemed genuine as he offered his hand. “Welcome to the menagerie—I mean family, Cassian. If ye ever need backup, let me ken. This crowd can get overwhelming at times.” He leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially. “Most of them arenae even related to each other!”
“That does not matter, Uncle Maxwell,” said his prettyniece, probably Allison, as she curtseyed. “Family is made by love, not blood.”
“Aye,” sighed Marcia’s younger brother Rupert, staring besottedly at the young woman.
“Aye,” echoed Gabby, smothering her giggle as she gathered Gus to her side and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Right, son?”
Cassian had to chuckle as the lad twisted awkwardly in her hold, then Gus paused and sighed hugely. “Aye, I suppose. Can I go see the cake, Gabby? Barrett said to meet him there and we can?—”
When Cassian opened his mouth to warn his son not to make any trouble, Gabby interrupted him with another, gentler kiss. “Aye, make good choices.”
Gus squirmed from her arms and ran off, kilt flapping, and Cassian hummed as Marcia’s family moved on. “Should I be worried about how much trouble two lads can get into near a cake?”
Gabby’s arm threaded through his. “Bear is a calm sort of lad. I am actually hoping our son will bring him out of his shell, and if that costs us some chaos, then so be it. What?”
Our son.
Her words had been so innocuous, so natural, that Cassian’s objection toincoming cake chaosdied on his lips as he stared down at her. “Ye are a wonder, Gabrielle Grey. Thank ye for loving Gus as much as I do.”
He tried not to find it alluring, the way her cheeks pinked. They had hours to go before their wedding night, after all,but he was unable to resist bending down and kissing his new wife.
Wife.
She was his, and he was hers, and he couldn’t be happier.
Gus had given his approval to the match, same as Uncle Dickie and Aunt Zilphia, but the laddie still called herGabby. And that was acceptable; Cassian approved of the lad’s desire to honor the woman who gave him life. But at the same time, Cassian liked to think that Artemesia would be pleased to know the two of them had found joy again, and made a new little family.
A new home. A new future.
“I love ye,” he murmured against Gabby’s lips. He hadn’t said it enough to his first wife, hadn’t been home enough to say it. He vowed, here and now, that Gabby would never have to wonder where he was, or what he was doing, or if he valued her. “Thank ye for giving me a future.”
Her lips curled under his and her eyes fluttered closed. “I only nudged things along, Cassian. You and your men were heroes?—”
“No’ that,” he interrupted, dropping another kiss. “Though I appreciate it.” Another kiss. “I meant…thank ye.” Yet another. “For showing me how to love with all my being.” Another kiss. “For loving me and Gus?—”
A new voice cut through their bliss. “Oh, for fook’s sake, Georgia, I’m no’ standing around watching the two of them rut like?—”
The growl was cut off with ashushing, and Cassianstraightened, flushing guiltily to find the Duchess of Lickwick glaring at her husband.
The husband seemed unimpressed. “I dinnae mind people beingamorous, love, but putrid flop-gibbons, this is ridiculous! Gabby’s a wee baby lassie?—”
“She happens to be older than your daughter,” his wife informed him primly.
“—and if any bastard tried to shove his tongue down her throat the way that bastard is doing to young Gabby—” The Duke cut himself off with a glare as he realized they’d moved to the front of the receiving line. Admittedly, his wife stepping forcefully on his foot likely influenced him too. “Oh. Hello. Congratulations. Pretty dress.Et cetera.”
Gabby, despite her pink cheeks, smiled at the pair of them.
“Hello, Uncle Demon, Aunt Georgia. Thank you ever so much for joining us today on our special day. Please meet my extremely kissable husband, Cassian Grey.”
Cassian bent over the Duchess’s hand, murmuring niceties, then offered his hand to the Duke. “I’m a bastard, aye, but that wasnae my tongue down Gabby’s throat, and she’s auld enough to decide if I’m worth it.”
The Duke of Lickwick—Uncle Demon?—squeezed his hand. “I like ye,” he barked, nodding to Gabby. “Good work, Gabs.”
