Claire smiled as she watched her older sister. She looked so happy and content. She never would have believed that Emily would find the kind of love she’d always hoped for with Francis Riley. “So, when do the two of you plan to marry?”
“Claire!” Beatrice exclaimed. “Why do you always have to be so forward?”
Claire chuckled. “Honestly, Bea, sometimes even you surprise me. Look at them. It’s obvious that they’re head over heels in love with one another, so it’s really only a matter of time. In fact, I’m certain that Francis has already proposed.”
Emily smiled as she looked over at Francis, and then her smile broadened until both Claire and Beatrice realized that they were clearly missing something. “What is it?” Claire asked impatiently.
“Well, as a matter of fact . . .” Emily giggled. “We’re already married.”
Complete silence followed. In fact, nobody would have been more shocked if King George himself had just strolled by.
“What?” Beatrice managed to ask, her face filled with confusion. “When?”
“When Francis rescued me from Edward’s clutches.” Emily told them, relieved to finally share the happiest moment of her life with the rest of her family. “We were married that same evening—in the very chapel that’s now being readied for the two of you.” She looked toward Richard and Claire, who both stared back at her with unfeigned surprise.
“But why the secrecy? For heaven’s sake, Emily, of all the things . . . don’t you know how much we would have liked to be there?” Beatrice didn’t look as disappointed as Emily had feared, but she did look as if she didn’t quite know what to make of it all.
“It was a spur-of-the-moment decision,” Francis said as he came to his wife’s defense. “We meant to tell you immediately after, but then Emily devised the plan to ensnare Charlotte, and we thought it best if we kept it a secret until Charlotte had been dealt with.” He gave a sidelong glance at Emily and when she nodded encouragingly, he continued. “We thought we’d have another wedding later—one where you would all be able to attend.”
“I have just the thing!” Claire exclaimed as she clutched Richard’s hand to show a united front. “We’ll have a double wedding!”
“Well, I . . . I don’t want to impose on your special day, Claire,” Emily said.
“Why, that’s nonsense,” Claire remarked. “Don’t you agree, Richard?”
“I, errr . . . I didn’t realize I had a say in the matter.”
“Well, I do wish you would at least pretend that you do, for the sake of appearances,” Claire chuckled jokingly as she kissed her fiancé tenderly on the cheek.
“What say you, Dunhurst?” Richard asked in the hopes of diverting the attention away from himself.
Francis saw his intent and favored Richard with a scowl. “I have no desire to get myself tangled up in this conversation. I shall leave it up to the ladies to decide.”
“It’s settled then,” Claire exclaimed. “Unless of course you’d rather have your own ceremony, Emily?”
“I already did,” Emily reminded her before turning to Francis for reassurance. He shrugged his shoulders to let her know that the decision was up to her. “I think a double wedding would be a wonderful idea, Claire.”
Claire immediately rushed out of her seat to hug her sister, who laughed in return. “We’ll have very little time in which to have your gown made,” Claire stated, her mind already brimming with ideas of how to go about the necessary preparations. And we’ll have to send out invitations immediately to anyone that you might like to attend.”
“Do you know,” Emily said thoughtfully. “I believe that Mrs. Hughes would be thrilled to receive an invitation. I shall write to the old dear straight away. And, then of course, we simply must invite the Fairchilds. . . . Dear me . . . there really is a lot to see to all of a sudden.”
“Actually, I already invited them,” Claire told her as she bit her bottom lip. “I invited Kate and Adrian, too. I meant to ask for your opinion first, but then you got shot, and . . . I’m sorry, Emily—I hope you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all,” Emily told her sister as she hugged her yet again. “In fact, I think it would be nice to have the opportunity to thank her.”
“Thank her?” Francis asked incredulously. “She and Adrian broke your heart, Emily, and may I remind you that it was because of Kate that you ran straight to Edward.” His voice grew angry as he reminded himself of what Emily had been through.
“Don’t you see, Francis? If it hadn’t been for Kate, then you and I might never have realized how we felt about each other.” She wrapped her arms around him. “As for telling me that Charlotte was your mistress . . . well, I do believe that she had my best interest at heart and hoped to warn me.”
“Still, she should have come to me first.”
Emily sighed. “We all make mistakes, Francis. I think it’s important to look at the reasoning behind it, and in this case, I do believe that the mistake is forgivable.”
“So if I were to take somebody’s life because I ‘mistakenly’ believed that they intended to take mine . . . should I not be made to pay for it?”
Emily rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help from smiling. “That is not only an exaggerated, but also a completely unrealistic example, and you know it.”
Francis shrugged. “Sometimes it’s necessary to exaggerate in order to make a point.”
“Francis Riley, I do believe you’re trying to wind me up.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Is it working?”
She refused to take the bait and rather looked at him as blankly as she could manage. “Not at all,” she said.
“Then I have no choice but to . . .”
“Might I interrupt?” Beatrice asked.
Emily and Francis turned to her apologetically. They had been so carried away that they’d forgotten that they weren’t alone. “Please excuse us,” Emily said.
“By all means.” Beatrice looked genuinely amused, but her expression soon turned serious. “It’s just that . . . well, with all the excitement, I haven’t yet had the chance to tell you that Mr. Rosedale has asked me to marry him, and I have accepted.”
Claire and Emily both responded with a simultaneous, ear-deafening squeak while their prospective husbands clasped their hands over their ears.
“A triple wedding!” Claire exclaimed with unparalleled excitement as she bounced up and down, clapping her hands together. “Oh, this is famous!”
Hugs and handshakes were quickly exchanged as they all congratulated one another.
“You certainly caught me by surprise there,” Francis told Jonathan with a wide grin. “I had no idea, although Emily did suggest that something might be in the works. But marriage? It seems we’ve all been leg-shackled.”
The men laughed as they supportively patted each other on the back. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were plotting this all along,” Richard remarked. They all turned to look at the women.
“Who says we didn’t?” Emily challenged before bursting into laughter along with her sisters at the befuddled looks on their fiancés’ faces.
Francis reached for Emily and pulled her toward him. “I do believe I’ll have to keep my eye on you,” he teased as he kissed her fully on the lips for all to see. “You’ve become far too candid for your own good.”
“Do you wish that I were less so?” She asked sweetly as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Looking down at her, he favored her with a brilliant smile that instantly melted her heart. “Truthfully? No.” He kissed her again with increased passion. “You are perfect in every way, Emily, and I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
“I love you, too,” she said as tears of joy threatened to spill from her misty eyes.
He tightened his hold on her as he pressed his cheek against hers. “How many children would you like, Emily?” he whispered in her ear for only her to hear.
She pulled back so she could look him straight in the eye. “Lots and lots and lots,” she told him joyfully, her eyes overflowing with love for him.
“Then what are we waiting for?” he asked as he scooped her up in his arms and started toward the house. “We are husband and wife, after all.”
“But it’s midafternoon,” she giggled as she turned a pleading look toward her sisters.
“Don’t look to us for help,” Claire called after them. “We’re eagerly awaiting a hoard of nieces and nephews.”
“Traitors!” Emily shouted, her voice ringing with laughter.
“Promise me that we’ll always have this much fun,” she told Francis as he opened the door to his bedroom.
“I promise, if you will promise that we’ll always love with as much passion as we do now.”
“Always.” And to prove it, she kissed him so thoroughly that all other thoughts abandoned both of them.
They savored that moment, for in and of itself, it held a promise for the bright and happy future that they had always dreamed of.