“They’re newlyweds,” Sir John boomed, amusement filling his voice. “Obligations and time mean nothing in those first few months.”
His wife grinned, leaning into his side as she waved at her niece as Corin pulled himself up into the carriage alongside her.
“Be safe!” a chorus of voices called out as he shut the door.
Corin watched Imelda peer out of the window, her face wreathed in smiles as she waved and the carriage pulled off. He waved as well, though he didn’t bother looking back.
He didn’t do much of that anymore.
It was only when Imelda slipped back fully into her seat, rummaging about the things she had brought with her, that they truly left their family behind them.
“Oh, I can’t find it,” Imelda muttered, her forehead creasing.
“It’s under your coat,” Corin reminded her with a grin.
Her glare was short-lived, her smile returning quickly as she pulled the book out from where he had told her it would be.
“Do you think we ought to have wrapped it?” she wondered, her fingers drifting over the cover lovingly. “It is a gift, after all.”
“A gift,” Corin snorted. He lifted one brow, his amusement clear. “Like the Trojan horse maybe.”
“There are no swords hidden inside of it,” Imelda returned primly. “Just my name.” She opened the cover slowly, her fingers tracing her name under the author’s name.
“You worked hard for that,” Corin reminded her gently, seeing that split second of indecision on her face. “You sent it off to every publisher on your own, edited parts that I didn’t even realize needed to be edited. You have every right to leave it as a gift for Mr. Batten to show him what he missed out on.”
“He doesn’t know how well the publisher is projecting it to sell,” Imelda reminded him seriously.
Corin laughed, ignoring the pitching of the carriage so he could stand and cross the space to sit next to his wife.
“If you think I didn’t draft a letter to go with it, my dear, then you have forgotten my passion too quickly.” He pulled the envelope from his pocket, the name written on it in bold black ink.
“Don’t tell me you critiqued the publisher,” Imelda teased, still looking inordinately pleased with the thought.
Corin shrugged. “I might have done something to that effect.” Along with very scathingly reminded him how Corin had approached him first with the opportunity. But Imelda didn’t need to know that.
Her smile grew as she leaned into him, her hazel eyes flashing in the sunlight from the window as she stared up at him. “Do you know that I love you, Corin Langford?”
“I should desperately hope so, Lady Salthouse,” Corin returned lightly, taking the book from her hands and placing the letter just inside of the cover before he set it off to the side of them. His hands framed her face, his thumbs making an arch against her cheekbones. “You did marry me, after all.”
“I did, didn’t I?” Imelda laughed, the sound cut off as he slanted his lips over her own.
She had.
And Corin had never been happier because of it.
A happiness he had every aim to keep surpassing over the years with her if he had anything to do with it. After all, he had promised her to never have to choose between her great loves. He still just considered himself lucky enough that he was one of them.
THE END ?
