The Luck of the Bride (The Cavensham Heiresses #3)(104)

“The duchess?” The mortification still stung that his lovely mother knew about her ghastly confession.

Michael kissed the top of her head as if he revered her. “Yes. She had me escort her home from her charity and made me watch your good-bye to your siblings.”

She tensed in his arms. The earlier devastation on Julia’s face and the emptiness in Faith’s eyes still brought her pain. When Bennett’s stalwart demeanor broke into tears, it ripped her heart out of her chest and left it laying in Hyde Park. She loved them, and their agony almost made her stay.

“I’m so sorry you went through that,” he whispered into her hair. “I can’t imagine letting my sister or brother go.”

“It was horrible.” She couldn’t say anymore as her gaze clouded with hot tears again.

“My father met us with my account book when we arrived home. In no uncertain terms, he told me to find out what happened and bring you back.” A chuckle escaped. “I believe my parents were almost as devastated as I was at your pending departure.”

She pulled away to gauge his reaction. “Really?”

He nodded, then kissed her nose. His endearing attention caused her pulse to quicken.

“My father told me that my grandfather suffered a similar affliction.” He cupped her cheeks once again. “My grandmother, his duchess, had a head for numbers, and the duchy grew and prospered under their direction.”

For the first time in days, hope started to trickle through her anguish, washing it away bit by bit.

“Sweetheart, I read my account book.” He wouldn’t let her look away. “As soon as I read it, everything made sense.” He traced one cheek with his thumb. “The sacrifices you made for your family throughout the years are nothing short of awe-inspiring. I should have never doubted you or your belief in me. You make me believe in myself. Make me believe that I could conquer this weakness by understanding it and accepting it. You make me believe I’m worth loving.”

She closed her eyes, fighting to find the right thing to say. What use was it? She still loved him. “I will always love you,” she whispered.

“With your trust monies and Erlington’s bequest of your portion of the woolen mills, you’re an heiress worth close to seventy-five thousand pounds. You can choose any husband you want.” The ocean-blue of his eyes flashed. “Choose me. Let me prove I’m worthy of your love. Let me prove how much I love you every day. I’ll take care of you and your family. Be my wife, March. I’m begging you. Stay with me and raise our family.”

Her heart burst free—free from the chains she’d feared would drown her in a life of misery forever. Her David, the consummate warrior, had delivered her from a purgatory she’d had no way to escape. How could she deny him? She’d loved him from the first time she’d ever laid eyes on him.

If she spoke, her tears would fall in a never-ending stream. Therefore, she did the next best thing. She nodded, then kissed him with a passion that rivaled the force of a meteor striking Earth and exploding. It was exactly the way she felt. All the grief and heartache had shattered, and a blinding lightness filled her heart. Finally, she could answer, “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

“Thank you.” He rested his forehead against hers. “Forgive me for not seeing your trust and faith earlier—”

“Let’s not dwell on the past, but look to our future.” She put her fingers to his lips. “Come to bed.”

The fire in his eyes lit a heat within her that quickly spread to her heart. He was so dear to her. He quickly disrobed, then stood before her, his desire for her apparent. Without any hesitation, she rid herself of her nightgown.

Though the room was quiet except for the occasional crack of the fire, the sweet yearning between them charged the air as they stared into each other’s eyes. Michael came to her, never taking his gaze from hers, and with a natural athletic grace, he joined her in bed. He covered her with his body and consumed her with his kisses.

She touched him everywhere. Ensuring he was real flesh and blood. Ensuring the moment was heartfelt. Ensuring her dream was genuine. She didn’t try to contain her outcry of delight. Their passion and love was a force that neither wanted to control.

They found their shuddering ecstasy together, and slowly their passion melted into heartfelt murmurs and kisses.

As she lay in his arms, she couldn’t deny the truth. The ugly path her life had taken had brought her here, a turn that had led to a future filled with happiness and joy. Michael had given her everything—her family’s happiness, his family’s love and support, and if they were truly blessed, a family of their own.

Whether she possessed the devil’s own luck or she’d created her own with her embezzling made little difference. She’d give the devil his due.

She was the luckiest bride in the world.





Epilogue

The Next Afternoon

Langham Hall

March stood before the vicar with Michael by her side. He inclined his head toward her as he repeated his vows. The rugged strength in his voice made her tremble.

The reflected light in the room glimmered as it kissed his handsome face. Yes, heaven did favor him. The marvelous ocean-blue color of his eyes stole her breath. So magnetic, his gaze held hers, and she was powerless. She leaned near so as not to miss a word.