Page 43 of How to Tempt An Earl
He gathered her in his arms and gave her body a shake. ‘Celeste, wake up, my love. Come back to me. We have so much to do. I need you. I love you.’
* * *
He loved her.She must be dead. All her wishes were coming true. Wasn’t that what happened when one died? There was peace and comfort; worries faded… If one’s life had been good, one got one’s rewards. Kieran was her reward—all she’d ever wanted, although she’d been too stubborn to see it, too set in the path she’d charted for herself. There was cool air here, too. That was nice. It soothed the burning in her throat. There’d been fire just before it had all ended. There’d been a gun and a man—a bad man. And a knife—her knife. A dagger…
The grey fog of her mind cleared. Her memories sharpened. She was back in the room at Wrexham, hideously bound with a hideous choice before her, the room filling with smoke. She was choking, suffocating on it. The door burst open and Ammon Vincent was there, cutting her bonds and grabbing her. There’d been a moment when she’d had a chance to reach for the dagger beneath her skirts and she’d seized it, attempting to stab him. She’d not been strong enough.
She’d fought him then, punching, kicking and struggling, knowing it was futile. He was twice her size and without remorse. Her head had slammed back hard into a wall—hard enough that she’d fallen and the room had spun. Her awareness had not lasted long after that. She recalled thinking perhaps it was better this way, as the smoke was bound to get her. It would be less painful when it did. She’d simply drift off and it would all be over. Only it wasn’t over…
Someone was calling her. Kieran was calling her, his voice raspy with smoke and tears. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to wipe those tears away and ease his fears the way he eased hers—with comfort and strength. To do all of that, she had to open her eyes, which seemed at the moment to be a Herculean feat. But it was worth it when she looked up into dark eyes the colour of melted chocolate.
‘Swiss.’ She managed the single hoarse word, watching his expression change to perfect, pure, unadulterated joy, the way the wind chased away storm clouds from the sky. ‘Your eyes look like Swiss chocolate.’
Then she was locked in his embrace as he rocked her back and forth, happiness and tears mixing with his laughter. ‘Only you would think of chocolate at a time like this. You almost died. You almost died.’
‘But I didn’t.’ She might have, for a little while, but she’d come back—for this man, for this chance. She reached a hand up to his cheek, soothing and stroking, afraid to look away from him for fear it was all a dream and he was right—she had died. She didn’t want to be dead. She wanted this to be real.
‘I was nearly too late.’ Something dark lurked in his eyes.
‘No, you were just in time.’ She held his gaze. There would be time to tell the tale of this day to each other later when they had recovered. Not all wounds were visible and there would be some trauma to overcome, but they would do it together. For now, it was enough to be in his arms, to feel his comfort around her even as she offered comfort to him. This was true partnership.
Luce knelt beside them. ‘I’ve brought water.’ Kieran took the tin cup from him and held it to her lips.
‘We’re gaining on the fire.’ Luce offered Kieran a report as she sipped.
‘Is it bad?’ She looked at Kieran, horror in her eyes. She’d forgotten about the house. She struggled for a moment. ‘I should get up. People will need help.’
‘Spoken like a true countess putting her people first.’ Kieran kissed her forehead. ‘But not today. You’ve had an ordeal and you need to rest.’ Kieran smoothed back the tangle of her hair. ‘The east wing has suffered. We’ll need to close it off and rebuild.’
Tears smarted in her eyes. This was the final straw after so many. ‘Your house, your beautiful house! I am so sorry.’ He’d saved her today but he’d lost his home and she was to blame.
‘Ourhouse, Celeste. It’s yours as much as it is mine. I’ve only had it for a few months. We will rebuild and I dare say the rest of the house is plenty large enough for the two of us until then.’ He was smoothing away her tears with his thumbs. ‘It’s just the east wing. I could have lost much more than that today.’
‘You saved me,’ she whispered.
‘But you saved everyone else. You saw the staff safe. Celeste, you are the most selfless person I know. You’ve lived amid corruption and coercion and you’ve never faltered in your convictions. It is just one of the reasons I love you.’
She smiled through her tears. ‘And I love you, Kieran Parkhurst. It was all I could think of…up there.’ Her voice choked over the words, the remembrance. ‘I thought I was going to die and I wouldn’t have told you the one thing that truly mattered: that I love you.’ Now that she’d said the words once, she wanted to say them over and over again.
‘Enough to marry me?’
‘Yes.’ Today had shown her much. There was freedom, and then there was the freedom that came from love. What Kieran offered her was the latter, although she’d nearly been too blind to see it. It had been a hard lesson to learn but she would not make the mistake again.
‘When?’ Kieran’s eyes danced with teasing and with joy—joy that she’d put there.
She leaned up and whispered a single word in his ear. She’d set out to save the Horsemen, but instead a Horseman had saved her. She would grab on to life with him with both hands and she would not let go, come calamity or calm, come lull or storm.
Epilogue I
December, Wrexham Hall, 1826
Kieran stood at the front of the Wrexham Hall chapel, taking in every detail of the setting. Today was his wedding day and he wanted to remember all of it. The chapel was turned out in wintry glory. Evergreen boughs twined with white ribbon draped the pews held in place by bows of silver and gold. The exquisite sounds of a lone violin played discreetly. Everything was beautiful, simple and elegant, like the woman whom he would marry.
The heavy oak doors at the back opened and Kieran’s breath caught as Celeste stepped through, head held high, eyes confident and glowing as she made the walk towards him, ready to continue life with him.
Kieran watched each step she took, wanting to memorise every moment: the chestnut sheen of her hair in its elegant braid; the way her pearl ear-drops swung delicately against the length of her neck; the exquisite simplicity of her gown, whose best adornment was the body within. There was no lace, no seed pearls and no bows. Just simple green velvet with tight sleeves, a straight-cut bodice that showed her mother’s pearls to perfection against her skin and a skirt full enough to sway when she moved.
She reached him and he took her hand, kissed it and together they prepared to say the vows that would bind them for ever and always.
