Page 118 of Sense and Suitability
“I did not propo—”
“Shhh.” He raised a finger to her lips, his expression playfully severe. “Let us not ruin the moment.” He resumed their walk at a slower pace. “I shall regale our children with the story of the time their mother broke all propriety to propose to their father.”
“Simon!” She laughed, swatting at his arm, but he caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm, his gaze catching in hers.
She could drown in that admiration.
“You know, this scene is almost an exact replica of the ending in a recent book I read from a new favorite author of mine.” He raised his brows, tucking her arm within his and taking his time guiding them back to the house. “Only the man proposed to the woman in that story, but I’m willing to overlook the difference.”
He was wonderfully ridiculous, and she’d missed this lighthearted side of him. Could it be that their shared love lightened his burdens a little, enough to allow the carefree and teasing Simon back to the light again? But his gravity of character suited him well too, his deep and abiding love for those under his protection. For her.
“But Elinor and Edward don’t reunite in a garden.”
“Ah, no.” He looked up at the sky as if in thought, but the slightest twitch to his lips gave away his humor. “I was referring to a brand-new novel I read where the hero proposes to the heroine in a garden at night after their possibility of marriage seemed all but lost.”
“You read a story with that ending?” She searched her thoughts for the title of such a story.
“And the hero had two younger siblings instead of five.”
What was he talking about? “But you—”
“And the worthless hero had to grow into his status as hero after fumbling around like an idiot for a good half of the book.” He narrowed his eyes at her, pausing their approach to the house just within the shadows of the doorway. “I really do feel you were basing this character on someone you know.”
Her breath caught as his meaning became clear. “You... you read my book?”
“Devoured it,” he corrected. “It was marvelous, so much like its creator.” He captured her chin with his finger and thumb, his look so filled with adoration that it took her breath away. “I’m so proud of you, Emme. And even prouder to be the man you’ve chosen.”
She basked in the knowledge of his love for her, of his appreciation of her gifts. Of the fact that after all this time, they’d finally found each other again and were both better people than they’d been before. “Our romance does make a very good story.”
“Indeed, it does.” He took another quick kiss, his fingers still lingering on her chin. “But I’d much rather live this one than read about it.”
“Oh yes,” she said, sighing against his lips, embracing him, his love, her stories, and this beautiful ending to a very long journey to find each other again. “I look forward to the adventure.”
Chapter 26
The phaeton trundled over a dry road on a sunny April day, carrying a couple in elegant dress and a pleasant-faced driver. Adorned in strings of flowers with a few bells dangling off the back, it created a merry sight among the cottages speckled along the back way toward Ravenscross.
More than wildflowers framed the road on this day.
In front of each cottage waited its occupants, each holding a welcome bouquet or simple gift from their home to celebrate the wedding of their lord and bride.
Lord and Lady Ravenscross.
Emme could scarcely believe it. Within six months, she had gone from a rejected woman, retreating in order to free her suitor from a match they could not have, to a bride on the arm of the man who had always held her heart.
With a laugh, she waved toward Mrs. Anna Campbell as the carriage stopped to receive their simple gift of produce from their first spring as Ravenscross’s tenants. Mrs. Campbell’s beaming smile and her burgeoning middle promised that much more than the fruit of the land would greet their home very soon.
“She looks happy,” Emme said as she turned to her—dare she say it?—husband as the carriage drove on.
Simon, who had scarcely let go of her since they left her father’s home, tightened his hold on her waist. “You are welcome to visit herand confirm it,” he answered, voice warm. “As lady of the manor, you have full authority to dispense visits as you see fit.”
“Lady Ravenscross,” she repeated, as though trying the title on for size. “It feels rather grand.”
“Not grand.” Simon leaned close. His breath teased her ear, sending delightful shivers down her spine. “Perfect.”
Their departure had come after hours of festivity, followed by a lively family dinner at her father’s insistence. The younger Reeves siblings had departed with Aunt Agatha, leaving Emme and Simon alone in the fading light of the day for their first journey to Ravenscross as husband and wife. As if in sweet benediction to the day, the sky began to bow to the burnished hues of sunset. The estate—theirs now—lay just beyond the horizon, the distant towers of the house like a promise in a storybook of everything yet to come.
The drive had afforded a wonderful and lengthy time of privacy, just the two of them, as Emme attempted to take in her new life, her new future. And he’d peppered the moments with sweet endearments and tender kisses, almost as a prologue of a scene yet to come.
