“Oh stop,” Gwenivere groused from the doorway.
He looked up as weariness and fear made him lash out. “I will not stop. I will marry your sister if I have to spend the rest of my life begging her for the privilege. And you had best accept that we will be brother and sister-in-law soon.” He shuddered at that thought. But that was the depth of his love for Giselle. He wanted to marry her despite having to keep her twin in his life.
“Not you,” Gwenivere said with a roll of her eyes. “Giselle is awake. She’s faking so you’ll keep saying how much you love her.”
“What?” he gasped as he turned back to Giselle’s face. Her eyes were open and there was a flushed look to her cheeks. “Giselle?”
“I only just awoke,” she said. “I wasn’t faking. Much.” Then she squeezed his hand. “Say it again please.”
With pleasure.
“I love you. Will you make me the happiest man on earth and be my countess?”
“No,” she said. And when he recoiled, she tugged him back. “I will be your wife because I love you. And I suppose that means I’ll have to be your countess, too. But really, I just want to be with you. For the rest of my life.”
“Done,” he said. And then he kissed her. Gently at first, but with growing passion as their lips entwined as thoroughly as their hearts already were.
It didn’t take long before Gwenivere was groaning again. “Enough! We understand. You’re in love. The rest of us don’t need to see it.” And when he and Giselle broke apart, both grinning, Gwenivere advanced on the bed. “Whatever were you thinking letting that old coot possess you? You know how draining it is. You’re going to be in bed for at least a week!”
“I’ll take care of her,” Jonathan said.
“I’ll take care of myself,” Giselle countered. “But you can stay here next to me if you like until I’m better.”
Gwenivere snorted. “Then you’ll never get out of bed.”
He wasn’t opposed to that. And neither, apparently was Giselle, since she gazed at him with such love in her eyes. And looking at her, all his thoughts fled. He was just happy. They were together again. And they had a glorious future in store.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you, too,” she echoed.
Gwenivere snorted. “I think I’ll go get some coffee. You have some, don’t you?”
“We do,” came Susanne’s voice. “I’d like to share some with you, if you want. I’d like to talk. If we may.”
Jonathan heard the anxiety in his sister’s voice. And he heard a long pause as Gwenivere considered the question.
“I’m really mad at you,” Gwenivere finally said. “But I guess I should have been mad at your father.”
“Want to share some tarts and insult my father? Just because I forgave him doesn’t mean I’m not angry.”
Gwenivere grinned. “I want to hear every word.”
And so the two left—finally—which allowed him and Giselle to celebrate their engagement in exactly the way they wanted.
The End
