Epilogue #2
Before long, she was standing in front of him.
Her father pulled a face as he placed her hand in his, giving her away to the son of the man he had rightfully hated more than anyone else in the world.
Yet Selina’s hand was the olive branch to bring peace and to heal old wounds, so that they might all forget the devil who had been Philip’s sire.
My children will never know your name. They will learn nothing about you. It will be as if you never existed, Father, Philip silently promised with a smile and a full heart as he pulled Selina that little bit closer.
“Does the clock in your bedchamber not work?” he asked with an amused smile.
Selina chuckled. “It is somewhat slow.”
“Ah, then it is fortunate that you will be sharing my chambers from tonight onward,” he said in a low voice, delighting in the deeper flush that colored her cheeks.
He had thought of their stolen moments in her room throughout the rest of the previous day, and when he had fallen asleep, he had dreamed of them.
His mind, body, heart, and soul were entirely hers, intoxicated by her, grateful for her, and looking forward to the future they would have together.
At that moment, the priest stepped forward to welcome everyone, though Philip barely gave the man a second glance. How could he, when he had an angel standing right in front of him, about to become his Duchess?
Merriment abounded on the grand terrace that had been transformed for the occasion, a long table cleared of the wedding breakfast and now filled with a veritable feast of refreshments and delicacies for the guests to pick at.
A small orchestra played a lively tune that people were dancing to, laughter and chatter drifting out across the sun-drenched estate, the guests reveling in the festivities.
Each clink of a glass made Selina’s heart sing, though she couldn’t take any credit for the celebrations. This was all Aurelia and Charity’s doing, and they were enjoying themselves heartily, sitting on chairs at the edge of the terrace with a few other ladies, gossiping and sipping good wine.
“If I ever marry, I hope it is like this,” Melody sighed into her glass of lemonade. “Weddings are always so stuffy and proper. This is not like that at all.”
“My grandmother arranged it. Of course, it is not proper,” Lizzy said with a smirk. “Does this mean you will muster the courage to find yourself a husband then?”
Melody blanched. “Well, no, no, I don’t think so. I just meant… hypothetically.”
“What of you, Lizzy?” Selina teased. “There are several gentlemen who keep staring at you. Surely, one of them must be tolerable enough to pique your interest?”
Lizzy shook her head. “I am quite happy here with my friends, thank you.”
“Ah, well, then you are not going to like what I am about to say,” a voice interjected as Philip stepped out of the sun room and onto the terrace.
Lizzy groaned, but her soft eyes told a different story.
“I wondered if I might borrow my wife for a while,” Philip said, offering his arm to Selina.
“Very well, but do not be long,” Lizzy replied. “Come on, Melody. I saw raspberry tarts that I would very much like to devour.”
She grabbed her friend’s arm and pulled her away toward the refreshments table, leaving Selina and Philip alone.
But it seemed that was not quite what Philip had in mind as he tugged Selina’s arm gently, leading her down the side of the terrace toward the steps that led down to the walled gardens.
From behind a laurel bush, a figure swayed into view, port sloshing over the side of a small glass.
“And where do you think you are going?” her father slurred.
“I am taking a walk with my wife,” Philip replied, amusement lacing his voice.
Her father frowned, squinting between the happy couple. “Oh… Your wife. Yes… yes, well, see to it that she doesn’t trip or… um… get lost in those excessive gardens.”
“I will,” Philip promised, chuckling.
With that, her father began to amble back toward the main group, muttering to himself.
At first, Selina worried that he was insulting her husband, but as she caught his words on the wind, a laugh bubbled up the back of her throat.
“Nice fellow, actually,” he murmured to himself. “Too tall, though. No one needs to be that tall.”
It might not have been an open declaration of peace and forgiveness, but it was the next best thing.
“Am I too tall?” Philip asked wryly as they continued toward the gardens, passing through the gate into the privacy that the high walls offered.
Selina shook her head. “You are exactly tall enough.”
“How so?”
“Well,” she said, “I can rest my head right here and feel safe in your arms without feeling you are too far away.” She pressed her cheek to his chest and smiled as he held her to him, his hand stroking her hair. “And if I want to kiss you, all I have to do is rise on my tiptoes.”
She peered up at him and slowly did just that. His hand cradled the side of her throat, his other arm locked around her waist to keep her balanced, his smile a beautiful beacon of love and hope as she drew closer to his lips.
“Or I can just bend my head,” he offered, a laugh rumbling in his chest, as he closed the gap between them, his mouth catching hers in a slow, sensual graze.
She melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed him back. A passionate kiss to seal their love and the vows they had made to one another today.
It felt right that they should silently pledge themselves to one another here, in the gardens where she had discovered bliss for the very first time, where he had opened up a whole new world to her. It felt right that, through everything, they had realized their love for one another.
Perhaps the members of the mysterious Matchmakers’ Book Club were geniuses…
or witches with a knack for seeing into the future.
Whatever their gift, Selina was beyond grateful that they had chosen her and chosen him, pairing them together, though it had seemed impossible that they could be a good match.
But they were not just a good match; they were a love match. Another success.
Selina smiled against his mouth as she sank deeper into the kiss, her breath becoming ragged, already looking forward to their wedding night.
“I love you,” Philip panted, equally breathless.
Her heart soared.
“As I love you,” she whispered, and kissed him harder, with all the force and fire of the love that burned within her.
All for him. Her husband, her Duke, the hero of her very own love story. A story with the kind of happy ending that would satisfy her for a lifetime.
The End?