Page 71 of The Rake’s Convenient Bride

Elizabeth made him feel entirely loved. Absolutely wanted. And worthy of her in every regard.

There could not be a happier man more smitten with his wife in all of Christendom than Jasper was with his soon-to-be-wife.

A bride never had so many women crowding around her as did Elizabeth the following morning. Ribbons were pulled here and there, a flower was adjusted in her hair, her skirts were fanned out and brushed over repeatedly. The day of her wedding to Jasper had arrived.

Grace fluttered around with excitement flushing her cheeks, no doubt envisioning her own impending nuptials, while Kitty went on chattering about the men of the ton who had caught her interest—and there had been many.

Hannah watched Elizabeth with a secret smile on her lips and her hand resting on the enormous bump of her belly, likely imagining Elizabeth in the same delicate condition that they might discuss children together and have them grow to be best friends as well.

In truth, the idea of motherhood was not unappealing. Elizabeth had never considered having a child before. Especially as she had never thought she would ever wed.

But imagining a child with Jasper’s dark hair and dark eyes, how that small babe might look cradled in his strong arms, filled Elizabeth with a longing in her breast for a maternal bond that she was desperate to eventually know.

“After the ceremony, we need a moment alone together,” Elizabeth warned her friends. “I have gifts for every one of you.”

Lucy raised her brows. “I never say no to gifts.”

But Jillian was skeptical. “Do I want to know what this gift is?”

A secret smile played over Amy’s lips.

Elizabeth intentionally kept from looking at Hannah who was likely giving her a knowing smirk. “You’ll find out soon enough. For now, it is time for this wallflower to break her vow and finally wed.”

The others left the room in their lovely pastel dresses, leaving Elizabeth alone with her father to make their way down to the small chapel.

“Are you happy, Elizabeth?” He asked.

“I am.” She took his proffered arm. “He loves me for exactly who I am.”

Papa patted her arm. “You deserve nothing less. Your Mama always wanted you to rush into marriage so she could have grandchildren, but I told her to be patient, that your time would come. When the right man who was worthy of you came along.”

He sniffed and Elizabeth looked up to find his eyes watering with quiet affection. She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for believing in me.”

“Always, my girl. Always.”

They walked down to the chapel, a small room on the first floor of the manor house, a relic from a time long before the newer portion of the home had been built around a medieval tower keep. Bunches of tulips adorned the short row of pews, and all of her family and friends turned when she and Papa entered.

But it was not her friends she saw when she made her way down the aisle. It was Jasper, appearing handsome in a dark jacket and breeches, his hair mussed in that way that was slightly out of fashion and just tempting enough for her to want to run her hands through.

His eyes lit when he saw her, a wide, unabashed smile lighting his face. His gaze swept down her gown, an elegant pale-blue silk with small white flowers embroidered at the hem. A gown her mother had ordered for the season in the hopes of securing Elizabeth a husband.

And now she had one.

She strode forward, not looking at the ground, too fixated on the man who would soon be her husband. The carpet underfoot caught on the tip of her toe, and she tripped.

Papa shot her a look of shocked horror, but Jasper only smiled wider, his expression endearing.

Rather than heat with embarrassment and humiliation as she might have done in the past, Elizabeth chuckled and shrugged her shoulders. After all, tripping was a natural part of her life, and she was done feeling ridiculous for every spill and stumble.

Her father handed her to Jasper, who thanked him, and together she and Jasper stood before the priest.

“I love you,” Jasper mouthed. “You look beautiful.”

At that, her face did heat, with pleasure at his words. With the knowledge that what he said was true. That he loved her exactly as she was, someone who would never chide her clumsiness or roll their eyes at her novels. But he would be at her side to hold her upright and read those very same books.

And be the hero in her own true love story.

Epilogue