Forever Betrothed, Never the Bride (Scandalous Seasons #1)(96)

Emmaline raised a hand between them and stroked the slight cleft in his chin. His eyes slid closed.

“Emmaline, when I spoke to Jones today, I felt a peace I haven’t felt in a number of years. I felt you there with me. Your presence is all over the ward. I fell in love with you as I saw your fresh cut flowers, as I learned of your devotion to the men who’d fought and lost so much.”

He returned his dark, moss-green eyes to Emmaline. “You are deserving of that one spectacular moment, a moment when I fell head over heels in love with you, Emmaline. I cannot give you that.” His eyes charted an intent path over her face. “I can give you the love I feel that was slowly kindled and cultivated, just like the flowers you tend. I can’t—”

She placed her fingers over his lips, silencing him. “Do you think I care how you fell in love with me? It is enough that you love me.” She stretched up on tiptoes and kissed him. “I love you.”

Sir Faithful gave a little bark and scratched a paw on Drake’s tan breeches.

Drake turned his attention to the mangy black dog. He had grown significantly since Emmaline had brought him to his life. In spite of his impressive diet, he still managed to appear reed thin.

“Yes, boy, we both love you, as well.” He fondly pet the dog between his ears.

Emmaline smiled, and leaned down, to also stroke Sir Faithful.

Drake returned his attention to her. “Do you remember what you asked me the day our fathers signed our betrothal documents?”

Emmaline’s mind went wandering down a path fifteen years old. Of course, much of that day had been lost to time but she still remembered so much of it, too. She’d only been a girl of five, after all. Traces of memories had remained with her. She tried to think…

The reminiscence suddenly came to her. “I asked if you wanted to be my husband.”

Drake claimed her hands in his own. He brought them to his mouth and lovingly worshipped her knuckles. “I want you to know, Emmaline, that more than anything, I want to be your husband.”

Emmaline smiled tremulously. “And I want to be your wife.” It was all she’d ever wanted. He was all she’d ever wanted.

He dropped his brow to hers, and rubbed it back and forth. “You are all I ever wanted,” he murmured.

And after a forever betrothal, Emmaline at long last had what she’d always yearned for…a forever marriage.





Epilogue

Drake stared at the canopy above their bed, and grinned at the cacophony of noise penetrating the night quiet. His wife’s snoring stirred the tufts of hair upon his chest, mingling with Sir Faithful’s heavy breathing whose chin rested on Drake’s ankle.

This time it wasn’t nightmares of the past that kept Drake awake. It wasn’t even a result of his wife and dog’s snores. No. Now, he reveled in the feel of Emmaline in his arms—he reveled in life.

It had been almost a year since they’d married.

Over the months he’d been wed to Emmaline, the nightmares had lessened. Oh, they would still visit him on occasion; when he least expected it. He suspected Jones had been right when he’d said the memories would always, to some extent, be with them. Yet each day it seemed as though they faded in their vividness, in their intensity.

Drake attributed it Emmaline’s love.

The support from the soldiers he’d taken to visiting at London Hospital.

And of course, the help of a stubborn mangy black dog, that didn’t seem to know his place.




The End