Chapter Eighteen #2
She smiled as she watched him croon to the dog, who, by leaping back into his arms from the carriage seat, had just made clear he would not be riding inside the carriage.
“Weather’s fine,” the coachman said to her husband. “I can take him up here with me.”
Harbury handed up first the basket and then the dog. The coachman settled the basket between his legs and Mercy propped his feet up on the footboard and yelped excitedly.
Harbury turned and caught her gaze. He smiled wide, and her already full heart expanded.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied, taking his hand and stepping up into the carriage.
Harbury raised his brow. “A little room, please?”
“I thought you would ride alongside the carriage.”
“I’m leaving my horse here. Adrian will bring him down on his way to London.”
“Is Moses injured?” she asked.
“No.” He winked. “I just want to serve as your pillow.”
He made an excellent pillow, too. And, since they hadn’t had much sleep the prior night, she spent most of the journey in a contented, dreamless slumber.
All her dreams, after all, had already come true.
Many hours and several stops later, she yawned and stretched as the carriage passed through the toll gate that led to Harbury lands. In the distance, she could see the gables of Rose Cottage. There were workmen on the roof.
“Have Mr. Anderson and Lady Pennington gone, then?” she asked.
“Looks like they have. Mr. Emmit Townsend was only to begin alterations after Mr. Anderson had fully vacated.”
She assessed her husband. “Are you sorry?”
“I feel only sympathy and regret that Mr. Anderson is so ill. He was always such a strong presence in my life.” For a pensive moment, he gazed in the direction of the cottage.
“I believe feeling he had done his duty made a great difference in his willingness to move on. I have you to thank, too. I never would have thought to dress like my father.”
“You weren’t just dressed as him.” Cassie shivered. “Everything about you was different. Your posture. Your voice.”
He grimaced. “I didn’t want you to witness that.”
“I only saw you from the window. From what little I could see, I don’t think I would have liked your father.”
“He was widely admired, but I doubt anyone ever referred to him as aimable. Or kind-hearted. Or well-meaning.”
She cupped his cheek. “Not like you, you mean.”
He turned his face further into the cradle of her palm. For a long moment, he held that position.
“My father was…” She searched for a word. “mean-spirited, too.”
“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “I thought that might have been the case when you referred to him as Mr. Wainwright.”
“At his command,” she sighed. “The times he wasn’t at Willowhurst were the happiest. Promise me we will raise our own children differently.”
“I swear our children will know they are loved.”
She sighed, placing her head back against his shoulder only to raise it again when the coach slowed. They came to a stop next to a very familiar clearing.
“Why are we stopping?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you, but first, may I ask a delicate question?” Harbury ventured.
“Yes,” she cautiously replied.
“It’s important to me that you feel at home on the estate. Everywhere on the estate. That you understand, that, while I may occasionally see something that reminds me of Lady Pennington, that she does not linger here. Not any longer.”
She frowned. “I didn’t hear a question.”
“Are the priory ruins forever spoiled for you?”
She studied his face. “Why did you take me there?”
“Truthfully?” He visibly swallowed. “In the moment, I was thinking only of you. I thought they would make you smile. I’d completely forgotten everything that had come before.”
She sighed. “Then I, too, promise to forget.”
“May I take you there?”
“Now?”
He nodded. “I have something I’d like to show you. Something new.”
“Something new?” She cocked her head. “In a ruin?”
He smiled enigmatically. “Yes.”
“Very well, then,” she replied.
Hand in hand, they made their way to the site.
Cassie hadn’t any idea what to expect, but she couldn’t immediately discern anything different as they passed under the former chapel’s arch and made their way to the stairs.
Then she saw it, a little monument in rose marble, just to the side of the stairs.
“Go over,” he urged. “Read it.”
She approached the stone and knelt down, shading her eyes from the afternoon sun.
C+E had been carved inside the shape of a heart. And just underneath the heart’s point, the words Our place. Always.
Her heart spasmed in the best of ways. She bit her lip as she traced over the carving, and then she rose to her feet. “Edward,”—she turned—“I—”
He had gone down on one knee.
“Cassandra…Cassie…love,” he said. “I’ve never properly asked.” He reached out and grasped her hand. “Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
She blinked. Rapidly. And she sniffed to hold back her tears. “I’m already your wife.”
“But would you marry me again? Now? Right here in this chapel?”
“Without a clergyman?” She smiled. “Without a roof?”
“The only thing that truly matters is the vow before God.”
“Why?” She whispered.
“Because…” He cleared his throat. “Because I want to promise again to love you, to comfort, honor, and keep you, in sickness and in health, and truly and completely, forsaking all others.”
“Harbury—Edward—do you mean it?” She couldn’t keep herself from adding, “You really don’t love her anymore?”
“I thought that was clear.”
“No…I mean, I know you love me, but I feared, perhaps, you still loved her, too.”
He shook his head. “I know now what I felt for Lady Pennington wasn’t love. Only a kind of idolatry.” He squeezed her hand. “I know because I know what love—a deep, abiding, strengthening love—feels like.”
Cassie had wished for his affection. And she’d hoped for—and received—his passion. She had decided to try to become first in his heart, but she never truly believed she would fully win him.
“Tell me again,” she whispered.
“I love you, Cassandra. And I promise to keep myself only for you.” He brought her hand to his lips. “As long as we both shall live.”
She knelt. Facing him, she took his other hand.
“I have a secret, too.”
“Oh?”
“From the moment I saw you, I wanted you. And since then, you’ve come to mean so much to me, I’m sometimes afraid.”
“You’ve loved me? From the start?”
“Not just loved you. I’ve been mad for you. Jealous, too.”
“There’s no need—”
“But there is. The other ladies you’ve been with…” her voice faded.
He winced. “There’s something else I should have told you. I’ve always believed chastity before marriage a virtue. A virtue that should be practiced by all.”
She jerked back. “Are you telling me I am the only woman you’ve ever taken to bed?”
“Yes,” he said solemnly. “I’ve only known that kind of intimacy with you.”
She searched his gaze, finding no sign of falsehood. She saw only love, vulnerability, and the deepest of commitments.
He was hers—entirely hers—in a way she’d never expected.
She cupped his face and smiled her softest, tenderest smile.
“Harbury…Edward. What a gift you’ve just given me.”
He smiled in a teasing fashion. “If you’re incredulous, I must have done something right.”
“I love you.” She ran her finger down his face. “And I will marry you again. Edward, I give my heart into your keeping, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others”—her sigh was long and heart-felt—“as long as we both shall live.”
They kissed as the sun slanted through what had once been the altar window, bathing them both in light. Then, Cassie heard a distant, indignant yip.
“Mercy,” he breathed.
She giggled.
“Time to go home?” he asked.
“Time to go home,” she answered.
Together, they turned back toward Harbury Hall.