Epilogue
Now that Jacob had discovered the simple truth that he was in love with his wife, he wanted to mark their union.
Their wedding had been a rushed affair, almost clandestine, and that would never do. A love as big as theirs needed to be celebrated, and to that end he enlisted the help of Margaret’s two closest friends and her mother to organise an occasion that honoured them truly becoming husband and wife.
The women set to work with gusto and on the day of their proper wedding the garden of their townhouse had been transformed.
Garlands of flowers were strung between the trees, creating an aisle that led up to an arch of greenery, roses and scented flowers which Margaret’s mother informed him were honeysuckle and jasmine.
At the altar he waited for his bride to appear, his heart seemingly swollen in his chest with happiness.
The only sadness of the day was that his mother was not here.
But he was certain that he had now grown into a man who could make her proud.
After all, if a woman like Margaret was willing to marry him with no coercion, he must now be such a man.
Margaret stepped onto the carpet of petals that led to the altar on the arm of her father, looking more beautiful than he had ever seen her. She was radiant and like a nervous groom Jacob was transfixed.
She walked towards him, their eyes locked, their smiles matching, and when she joined him they took each other’s hands and he lightly kissed her lips.
In front of their assembled friends and family they declared their love and commitment to each other.
‘Margaret, my love, my life,’ Jacob said, looking into her soft hazel eyes.
‘When we married I promised to love and cherish you all the days of our lives. To abide by those vows will fill me with the greatest happiness it is possible for a man to feel. You have taught me how to love, and to be loved, and I promise I will never take that love for granted. Whatever our future holds, I am yours, wholly and forever.’
Margaret smiled up at him, tears in her eyes.
‘Jacob, my love,’ she said, blinking away the tears.
‘When we met I did not expect to love you, but you gave me no choice.’ This caused Jacob’s smile to widen.
‘And I never thought I would feel so loved, but that is how you make me feel. I vow to stand beside you, no matter what fate brings us, to love you fully and openly for the rest of our lives.’
‘I love you,’ Jacob whispered.
‘And I love you,’ she said, before he leant down and kissed her, while the assembled guests applauded.
Still holding her close, he whispered in her ear, ‘I was going to say, ‘Oh, Margaret, girl of mine, you are so fine.’
As expected, this caused Margaret to laugh, and add, ‘With hair of gold you make me bold.’
‘Like stars in the night, your eyes are bright, Big and round and such a delight,’ they said together, then, laughing, they walked hand in hand back down the aisle.
Jacob had never intended to use his silly poem for his wedding vows, but he would love to be able to tell the lonely adolescent boy who’d penned such bad poetry that one day he would meet a woman who would take away all his pain and bring him more happiness than he could imagine.
A wedding breakfast was held in their townhouse, speeches were made, including one from Henry, who waxed not particularly lyrically about Cupid and his bow, and from her father who for once had kind words to say about Jacob.
When the speeches were over, Mrs Whitmore approached them, a wine glass in her hand, looking even happier than she had at their official wedding.
‘You two might not have known this was a love match, but I always did,’ she said proudly.
‘You can raise your eyebrows in disbelief as much as you like, Margaret, but I did.’
Jacob and Margaret exchanged indulgent smiles.
‘Yes, all right, to begin with I just liked the idea of my darling daughter becoming a duchess, but on the night you went to the theatre I saw the way you two were looking at each other and I thought, Those two are in love. Even your father saw it, didn’t you, dear?
’ she said, turning to her husband, who opened his mouth to speak but was cut off before the words could emerge.
‘Why else do you think he insisted on making you marry?’ she continued.
‘As if Percival would make Margaret do anything that he didn’t think would make her happy.
He knew. I knew. We just knew that the two of you needed to discover it for yourselves.
So your father insisted you head off to your estate with nothing to do except get to know each other and realise you were in love. And we were right, weren’t we, dear?’
Jacob and Margaret looked at her father, who looked somewhat sheepish.
‘So it would seem,’ Mr Whitmore said. ‘What I do know is that you have made my daughter very happy,’ he added, shaking Jacob’s hand and slapping him on the back.
‘Not as happy as she has made me,’ he said, smiling at his bride.
When the guests finally left, Jacob was able to present his wife with his wedding present. Two tickets to France, and a letter from a tutor at the school of fine arts, offering to provide lessons.
Margaret looked down at the tickets and the letter as if dumbfounded. ‘Oh, this is wonderful,’ she said, smiling up at him. Then she walked over to the sideboard and removed a small package wrapped in brown paper.
‘And I have a wedding present for you as well,’ she said with a laugh.
He pulled off the paper, held up the framed drawing and joined in her laughter as they both looked at the series of cartoons.
The first one depicted a flower climbing up a pillar to escape a party of roosters below.
In the next one a peacock appeared in the window.
And the final drawing had the flower and the peacock locked in a kiss.
‘That’s simply wonderful, but I think it needs an additional drawing.’
‘It does?’
‘One where the house is full of little flowers and peacocks.’
‘Oh, yes, I do look forward to drawing that one.’
He laughed and scooped up his wife into his arms. ‘Then I think we’d better get started straight away.’
With that, he carried her up the stairs to begin their married life together.
Keep reading for an excerpt from ACCIDENTALLY WED TO THE PRINCE by Lucy Morris.