Epilogue #2
“We shall see about that,” Corinna countered softly, turning her attention to the vicar as the music finally faded into silence.
The ceremony proceeded with a solemn, quiet dignity that felt entirely appropriate for the small stone church.
The vicar spoke of duty, of honor, and of the sacred bonds of marriage.
Corinna barely heard a word of the standard liturgy.
She was hyper-aware of the heat radiating from Edmund’s large frame, the slight, nervous tension in his fingers, and the undeniable reality of what they were doing.
“I, Edmund Thomas Ashford, take thee, Corinna Margaret Ashwell…”
His voice did not shake, but it carried a gravelly depth that resonated in the hollow of her chest. He spoke the vows not as a performance for the listening crowd, but as a direct, unbreakable contract forged exclusively between the two of them.
He looked directly into her eyes as he promised to have and to hold, stripping away the title and the wealth, offering her only the absolute truth of himself.
“I, Corinna Margaret Ashwell, take thee, Edmund Thomas Ashford…”
Corinna kept her voice steady, refusing to break his gaze. She saw the relief wash over his features as she repeated the words, binding her life to his with absolute, terrifying certainty.
The vicar gestured for the rings.
Julian stepped forward, producing a simple, heavy gold band from his waistcoat pocket. He handed it to Edmund with a quiet, supportive nod.
Edmund took the ring. He held Corinna’s left hand, his long fingers completely dwarfing hers. He slid the warm gold over her knuckle, settling it perfectly into place.
“With this ring, I thee wed,” Edmund said softly.
Corinna took the second band, a thicker, plain ring of solid gold, and slid it onto Edmund’s finger. The metal felt heavy and permanent. It was done.
The vicar raised his hands, offering the final blessing to the congregation, formally declaring them husband and wife.
The tension that had gripped Edmund’s shoulders for the last hour finally, completely dissolved. He let out a slow breath, his blue eyes dropping from the vicar’s face back down to Corinna.
The formal atmosphere of the altar seemed to vanish.
Edmund leaned down, closing the remaining distance between them. He did not immediately kiss her. He stopped when his mouth was merely a breath away from hers, the clean scent of his soap mixing with the cold church air.
He looked down at his new wife, a devastatingly wicked smile curving the corners of his mouth. The quiet companion, the reluctant earl, and the desperate liar were all gone.
“Your move,” Edmund said quietly.
Corinna looked at him, absorbing the challenge, the banter, and the absolute, undeniable fire in his eyes.
A laugh broke from her throat.
It was not the polite, muffled, socially acceptable chuckle demanded by Mayfair drawing rooms. It was a bright, joyous, completely unguarded laugh that echoed off the high stone arches of the ceiling.
It was the laugh that completely transformed her face, stripping away the cautious, observant wallflower and revealing the vibrant woman beneath.
She did not hesitate.
Corinna reached up, sliding her hand to the back of his neck, her fingers tangling in the dark hair at his collar, and pulled him down the rest of the way.
The kiss was not polite. It was a collision of heat, relief, and months of suppressed, agonizing tension.
Edmund’s arm wrapped instantly around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest, ignoring the shocked gasps from the front pews and Julian’s muffled bark of laughter.
It was a kiss that possessed all the demanding, overwhelming intensity of a man who had finally secured the only prize he had ever actually wanted.
When they finally broke apart, Corinna’s cheeks were flushed, her lips stung, and her heart was pounding out a frantic, triumphant rhythm against her ribs.
Edmund looked down at her, his eyes dark and heavy with a promise that made her breath hitch all over again.
The organ roared back to life, filling the church with a massive, triumphant recessional march.
Corinna smiled, turning to face the congregation. She took Edmund’s arm, looping her hand securely through the crook of his elbow.
They did not look at the gossiping dowagers, or the shocked peers, or the remaining remnants of the ton who had come to witness a scandal and had been forced to witness a victory instead. They looked straight ahead, to the doors that stood wide open at the end of the aisle.
Corinna tightened her grip on his arm. Edmund looked down at her, his expression radiating absolute certainty.
Together, they descended from the altar and walked down the aisle, leaving the shadows of the church behind as they stepped out into the bright, pale autumn light.
THE END