Page 82 of Her Rake Fiancé

Richard patted him happily on the head and looked at Preston. “Were there blankets in the carriage?”

“Yes. Thankfully my coachman had not yet cleared them out after the winter.”

As Hercules left Richard alone, the three of them breathed hard. Jane felt herself shivering, and Richard wrapped his blanket around Jane’s shoulders.

“Get away from her,” barked Thorne.

“Thorne, stop it,” said Jane firmly. “I came here to say, if you killed the man I love, I’d never forgive you.”

Thorne’s face dropped. “The man you love?” he asked slowly, blinking.

Jane gazed into her brother’s eyes, usually hard but now softened with affection. His dark irises held a familiar warmth, long-held memories of their childhood together swimming in them. He’d been there from day one and had always looked out for her. His stoic facade seemed to be crumbling as his gaze filled with love and compassion.

She looked at Richard, who stared at her like she may be the cure for a plague, his blue eyes glistening and intense. Then she turned back to her brother and smiled at him. “Yes, Thorne. I love Richard.”

Thorne gave out a long, tired sigh. “Jane, you might be confusing love with infatuation.”

“No, I know what I feel, brother. I didn’t think I’d be good enough for his world, but you’re right, Thorne. You were always right. I do belong there.” She turned to Richard, who clung to her every word, so tall and so strong and muscled and yet standing with so much hope and vulnerability in his eyes, her heart could burst. “And I love you, Richard. And if you still want to marry me”—she swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry—“I will say yes.”

Richard’s face cracked in two with the most gorgeous smile she’d ever seen on a man. He took her hands into his, and how he managed to be so warm despite having been in the icy water, she didn’t know. His strong, warm hands pleasantly burned her cold fingers, reassuring her, sending sweet tingles right into her heart.

“I was going to turn the world upside down trying to woo you,” he said, “to get you to say yes. Of course I still want to marry you.” He chuckled. “You’re the love of my life.”

Something cracked open within her. Was she really going to do this, change the course of her life so sharply after being sure she’d be a spinster forever?

Yes. She was. Because she was that woman. The woman who belonged wherever she chose to.

And right now, the choice was clear.

“I belong wherever you are, Richard Seaton,” she said.

And despite the six other pairs of male eyes watching her, she wrapped her arms around her fiancé’s neck and kissed him. His lips were hot and soft and smooth, and ignoring everyone present, he dipped his tongue into her mouth and caressed hers. They kissed, despite Thorne’s unhappy growls, despite Hercules’s barks, despite the chill that crept through her heavy, wet clothes.

Because that was what Richard did to her. He lit a fire in her veins with a simple touch. And the kiss…oh the kiss…it simmered and burned, her skin tingling and heat rising up her spine and through her most intimate parts.

And suddenly, she wasn’t cold anymore.

“Enough!” barked Thorne, and with regret, Jane tore away from Richard. They exchanged playful grins; he must have felt like a naughty child, too.

They both looked at Thorne.

Her brother looked very displeased, standing all wet and cold like that. His eyebrows were drawn, and his mouth was curved downward as he glared at them in a helpless rage. Brace, Morgan, and Tristan, however, wore the most amused expressions. Jane thought they lacked only a drink in their hands and a comfortable seat, and they’d relax and enjoy the show.

“What? Thorne, please tell me you don’t still want to kill him,” said Tristan.

Thorne sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. “All right. I won’t kill you, sir. You were right. I can’t kill the man my sister loves. You have my blessing. But you two will not meet without me until the wedding!”

Both Jane’s and Richard’s faces fell.

But when she looked up at Richard, the most mischievous expression lit his face. She leaned closer to Richard. “I guess he has no idea how sneaky we can be!”

EPILOGUE

Jane stood next to Richard in front of a priest dressed in a long white robe embroidered with gold and silver threads. The sun streamed through the stained glass windows, casting brilliant colors over the congregation. Behind Jane and Richard, the men wore long dark coats, and the women were dressed in white or pale-colored gowns, their bonnets decorated with lace, white flowers, and feathers.

White roses, sweet peas, and peonies filled the church with a sweet fragrance mixed with the deeper notes of incense. Bouquets were placed at the end of each pew, and the women wore corsages, the men boutonnieres. Even the altar had been decorated with flowers.

Jane’s side of the church was a collage of familiar faces, touched by life’s hardships but resilient and vibrant in their shared joy. Her brother, Thorne, broad and imposing, wore a smile that softened his stern features, his companions, Brace, Tristan, and Morgan, sharing in his uncharacteristic merriment.