Part 31 (1/2)
”What will it take to convince you that I'll never want a boring innocent?” he asked with exasperation. ”It's your experience that makes you what you are. A woman of irresistible strength and wisdom.”
He suddenly lunged the distance between them and pinned her down on the narrow bed, kissing her throat and sliding a scandalous hand up her thigh under her very respectable Madame Harel skirt. ”The fact that you are also the most deliciously attractive female I've ever met is not the most important thing about you.”
He raised his head a moment and thought. ”Though it's close.” He captured her mouth for another kiss.
She began to laugh as belief and desire pulsed through her. ”What if I'm a shallow, l.u.s.tful female who would only agree to marry because of your magnificent face and body and ... and advanced amatory skills?”
”That's all right, too.” He looked at her hopefully. ”Do you really want to marry me for my looks and use me shamelessly? I like that much better than being stalked for my wealth and t.i.tle.”
Her throat tightened and she brushed at the dull brown hair that should be golden. They had changed each other, and for the better. She'd rescued him, nurtured him, taught him how to live in the world again. He'd taught her to open her heart. To give love. Even more difficult, to receive love.
Voice husky, she said, ”I don't want to marry you for your looks and pa.s.sion, or your position and wealth.” She swallowed hard before she could get the words out. ”Only because ... I love you.”
His face lit with a joy that matched her own. ”That's the best reason of all, my lady fox.” His eyes crinkled with laughter. ”Can I use you shamelessly now?”
She wrapped her arms around his broad chest. ”Oh, please do!”
They came together with a sweet carnality where all the barriers to intimacy of mind and soul dissolved. Pa.s.sion was swift and satisfying beyond anything she'd ever known. From the words of love Grey sang softly into her ear, the same was true for him.
As they lay tangled together in the too small bed, she said dreamily, ”Will Pere Laurent marry us without bans? It will make the child's birthday look less irregular.”
Grey kissed her temple. ”I'm sure he will, though I guarantee our families will want a second, entirely proper Church of England marriage as well.”
”I won't mind. If wedding once is good, twice should be better.”
”That's not the only thing that's good once and twice is better.” He stroked suggestively down her torso.
Even as desire curled through her, she said a little breathlessly, ”If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, I'm impressed by your stamina!”
He grinned down at her, eyes alight with mischief. ”Shall we ask Viole for a second cup of coffee?”
Epilogue.
”I p.r.o.nounce that they be man and wife together.”
With the marriage ceremony complete, Grey escorted his radiant bride down the aisle of his family's parish church accompanied by jubilant organ music. Indeed, wedding once was good and twice was even better.
Pere Laurent had married them first in the Boyer farmhouse the morning after the raid. Grey hadn't really thought that Ca.s.sie would change her mind, but he didn't want to take any chances.
After sharing danger, the Boyers and Duvals felt like family, and Grey had thought he couldn't be happier than when Pere Laurent had p.r.o.nounced him and Ca.s.sie man and wife. Ca.s.sie had glowed and Grey had beamed like the summer sun. The regular breakfast was easily converted into a wedding breakfast with the addition of a bottle of fine wine the Boyers had been saving for a special occasion.
The bride and groom stepped out onto the church porch. As guests tossed handfuls of flower petals, Ca.s.sie leaned up to whisper, ”This wedding is even better because we have our natural hair colors.”
Laughing, he brushed a kiss on her s.h.i.+ning dark copper hair. In the fortnight since their return to England, spring had arrived in full force and the air was filled with birdsong and the scent of blossoms. ”You smell of roses,” he murmured.
Ca.s.sie's Aunt Patience had stepped into the role of mother of the bride and helped with a trousseau, starting with a bronze gown that emphasized Ca.s.sie's coloring with breathtaking richness. Grey took care of the special license. With a baby on the way, the sooner the better. Besides, he hated having to sneak around the house to spend nights with Ca.s.sie.
Lady Kiri Mackenzie was the matron of honor, and exotic dark-haired Kiri and gloriously red-haired Ca.s.sie made a pair dazzling enough to make any man swoon. Peter was Grey's best man, and there had been some hushed female remarks about how striking the pair of them looked side by side.
Since Grey was no longer available and had zero interest in any other woman, speculative female gazes were evaluating Peter, not that it would do them any good. After Peter was accepted into Mr. Burke's theater company, Lord and Lady Costain had resigned themselves to his choice. Now he was more interested in acting than marriage. Before the service, Peter urged Grey to be sure that he produced a male heir so his brother would never have to worry about inheriting.
Guests were lining up on the porch to offer personal best wishes, and Grey was delighted to see that two of his old cla.s.smates had made it in time for the ceremony. ”Ashton! Randall! I'm so glad you're here.”
Smiling widely, the Duke of Ashton shook Grey's hand with both of his. ”Randall and I were delayed by a broken carriage wheel, but we were determined to make it even if we had to ride the post horses. I never thought I'd see this day!”
”Nor I.” Randall, lean and blond and military, clapped a hand on Grey's shoulder. ”Frankly, I'd given you up for lost, Wyndham.”
”And good riddance, I'm sure.” Grey grinned as he took Randall's hand. ”I hear you've taken on a foster son who's one of Lady Agnes's students. How do you like fatherhood?”
Randall responded with a smile far happier than any he'd had as a boy. ”I recommend it, especially if you can start with a twelve-year-old like Benjamin. That way you skip the messy stages.”
Lady Agnes, General Rawlings, and Miss Emily had come from the Westerfield Academy to celebrate. Everyone in the Summerhill community was there, of course. They liked knowing that the next generation of Costains was secure.
The St. Iveses were present in full force, including George, the youngest son, down from Oxford. They couldn't have been happier if Ca.s.sie really was their daughter and sister. Her uncle had walked her down the aisle, though there had been no nonsense about him ”giving” her to Grey. She'd been her own woman for too many years.
Last in line was Kirkland, his handsome, saturnine face relaxed. ”Remember those lists I always made in school to keep track of everything I needed to do?”
Grey laughed. ”Who could forget? You were fearsomely organized even then.”
Kirkland pulled a worn piece of paper from his breast pocket along with a pencil and held it up for Grey to see. The name ”Wyndham” was written in the middle of a list where everything else had been crossed off. With a flourish, Kirkland drew a line through the name. ”I now have one less thing to worry about!”
Grey laughed, then turned serious. ”I'll never be able to thank you for everything you've done. You gave me freedom, and Ca.s.sie.” Grey put an arm around his wife. ”All I need to make my happiness complete is Regine.”
Kirkland grinned. ”I trust Ca.s.sie isn't upset by the implied comparison.”
As he moved away, Ca.s.sie nestled comfortably against Grey's side. ”In another fortnight or so, Lady Agnes will allow you to have her.”