Page 97 of When He Was a Duke
As they all rose, Sebastian extended his hand to the constable. “Thank you, Stephens. For everything. Your courage and persistence brought justice not just for my father and Rose’s mother, but for Lizzie as well.”
“Just doing my duty, my lord. Though I’ll admit, it’s rare to see such a clear victory for the right side.” Stephens shook Sebastian’s hand firmly. “Now go marry that remarkable young lady of yours. After everything you’ve both been through, you deserve every happiness.”
As Stephens took his leave, Sebastian turned to Hale, who was staring out the window with a peaceful expression Sebastian had never seen on his face before.
“How do you feel?” Sebastian asked.
“Free. For the first time in twelve years, completely free.” He turned to Sebastian with a smile. “And on your wedding day, no less. It seems fitting, somehow.”
“It does,” Sebastian agreed. “All the shadows of the past finally laid to rest.”
“Indeed.” Hale straightened his cravat and assumed a more formal bearing. “Now then, my lord, we have a wedding to attend. And I have the honor of walking the most beautiful young woman in England down the aisle to marry the finest man I know.”
Sebastian felt his throat tighten with emotion. “Thank you, Hale. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
“Nor I without you, my lord. But that’s all behind us now. Today is about the future—yours and Lady Rose’s.”
As they prepared to leave for the church, Sebastian felt a profound sense of completion. The last of his father’s enemies was gone, justice had been served for all who had suffered, and in mere minutes, he would marry the woman who had transformed his quest for vengeance into a journey toward love.
The past was finally, truly, at rest. And the future stretched ahead, bright with promise.
*
The village churchof St. Edmund’s sat nestled among ancient yew trees, its weathered stone walls holding centuries of prayers and promises. Inside, afternoon light streamed through tall, narrow windows, illuminating wooden pews polished to a warm glow and adorned with ivy and roses from the estate gardens.
Sebastian stood at the altar, his heart hammering against his ribs. He glanced at the faces filling the pews. His sister Sophia smiled sweetly in the front row while James sat beside her, only the tightness around his eyes betraying his emotion. Behind them, Rose’s friends—Arabella, Daphne, Lydia, and Violet—watched with bright anticipation.
The church doors opened with a gentle creak, and Sebastian’s breath caught.
Rose appeared on Mr. Hale’s arm, radiant in ivory silk that seemed to capture and hold the golden light. Her gown was elegant in its simplicity, fitted through the bodice before flowing into soft folds that whispered across the stone floor.
Her green eyes found his immediately, and he was lost. How had he become so fortunate? This woman who had every reason to hate him had instead chosen to love him.
Rose walked toward him with steady grace, her cheeks flushed with emotion. In the pews, Mrs. Blythe and Mrs. Carter dabbed attheir eyes while Finch sat between Mary and Prudence, all three beaming with joy for their beloved Rose.
When she reached him, Hale kissed her cheek tenderly. “Be happy, dear ones.” He placed Rose’s hand in Sebastian’s before taking his seat beside Mrs. Blythe.
Sebastian felt the slight tremor in Rose’s fingers as he took her hands. She smiled up at him, and he had to resist the urge to kiss her right then.
The elderly vicar opened his prayer book, his kind face solemn. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony.”
Sebastian barely heard the familiar words, lost in Rose’s eyes.
“Sebastian Luke Ashford,” the vicar said, “do you take Rose Eleanor Wentworth to be your wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?”
Sebastian’s voice came out steady despite the emotion threatening to overwhelm him. “I do.”
“Rose Eleanor Wentworth, do you take Sebastian Luke Ashford to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?”
Rose’s voice rang clear in the hushed church. “I do.”
James stepped forward with the rings. Sebastian’s hands shook slightly as he slipped the golden band onto Rose’s finger. “With this ring, I thee wed.”
Rose’s eyes shimmered as she took his ring in turn, her whispered vows wrapping around his heart.
“Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder,” the vicar proclaimed, raising his hands in blessing. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”
Sebastian cupped Rose’s face gently and did as instructed.
