Page 113 of The Earl’s Forbidden Temptation

Unrestrained love.

And a happiness so profound she felt it across the distance between them. The corners of his mouth lifted into that slow, devastating smile she loved above all others.

The one meant only for her.

Step by step, Darcy crossed the long aisle toward the man who had changed the course of her life. When she reached him, Sebastian took her hand with such reverence that her breath trembled. His thumb pressed once against her pulse, as though he too required the reassurance that this moment was real.

The rector instructed them to join hands, and Sebastian took Darcy’s right hand in his.

His gaze settled upon hers as he repeated the ancient words.

“I, Sebastian, take thee, Darcy, to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.”

Darcy’s heart swelled as they released hands, only for her to take his right hand in hers.

“I, Darcy, take thee, Sebastian, to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.”

Sebastian’s thumb brushed once across her fingers before they released each other.

The rector received the ring, then returned it to Sebastian. He slipped it slowly onto the fourth finger of Darcy’s left hand.

“With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.”

His voice lowered over the final words, and Darcy’s smile trembled.

“In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

The ring settled into place.

Darcy looked down at it for the briefest moment before lifting her gaze to Sebastian. His eyes were already upon her, warm with such unmistakable love and desire that she could not contain her own smile. When at last the rector pronounced them husband and wife, Sebastian’s fingers closed around hers. For one breathless instant, they looked at one another.

“My wife,” he whispered, too softly for anyone but Darcy to hear.

Joy rose within her, bright and overwhelming. “My husband.”

The wedding breakfast filled Raine’s townhouse with music, laughter, and the fragrance of roses spilling from every mantel and table. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, striking crystal and silver until the rooms appeared filled with scattered stars. Darcy moved through the celebration with Sebastian never far from her side, accepting congratulations, embraces, and more advice concerning matrimony than either of them could possibly require.

Across the drawing room, Caroline stood surrounded by Jane, Emelia, and Sarah. Sarah had tucked her arm through Caroline’s and was speaking with great animation, while Emelia disputed some point with such conviction that Caroline’s eyes danced. Jane said something beneath her breath, and all four dissolved into helpless laughter.

Lady Sutton watched over her charges with an indulgent smile. The viscountess had come to love Darcy’s sisters as though they were her own children. The thought of leaving them behind while she traveled through Europe with Sebastian stirred no trepidation in Darcy. Her sisters were safe, cherished, and well cared for.

The sight of them so happy warmed Darcy’s heart.

Then she became aware of the Dowager Countess of Raine standing beside her.

“Lady Raine,” the dowager countess said.

Darcy turned, careful not to reveal how deeply the simple acknowledgment moved her. “My lady.”

For a moment the dowager countess watched the four sisters across the room. Her expression remained composed, but the softness Darcy had glimpsed in the church returned.

“The youngest has his smile,” she said quietly. “And his eyes.”

Darcy’s throat tightened. She knew at once whom the dowager countess meant. “Yes,” she replied softly. “Sarah does.”

A shadow of grief crossed the older woman’s face, followed by something gentler. She drew a slow breath. “I had forgotten how freely he smiled when we were young.”

Darcy did not offer comfort the dowager countess had not requested. She merely stood beside her in understanding silence.