Page 87 of Ella’s Desire

And though he’d done as he was told, and eaten as he was told, his body had been slow in its recovery. Even now, he leaned the bulk of his weight on a cane. But he was not willing to prolong this moment any longer.

Brigid sat in one of the pews at the front with William at her side. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears, her mouth curled in a broad smile. In the last month, she had become the mother he’d been so long without. She and Ella had alternated visiting times to ensure he was never alone. Ella had taught both her and Lark how to read, and all three had relished keeping his countless hours of healing filled with stories and adventure.

Lark had a mind for stories, as it turned out. In fact, she and Leila had assisted him in completing his wedding present to Ella. It had taken the entire month, most of it written in Bronson’s own hand, but some of it in Leila’s when he grew too weary. It was finally complete, and the book rested against Bronson’s heart beneath his doublet.

The story was about two unlikely lovers forced into an arranged marriage neither thought would work. After a month, Bronson considered himself an expert on romantic stories and this was one for the ages. If he did say so himself.

The doors to the chapel rattled and his heart skipped in his chest. It was time.

They opened and revealed the silhouette of a woman whose shape his hands and heart knew well. Ella stepped into the chapel, a vision in midnight blue with her long blonde tresses unbound. Her cheeks were rosy, and her eyes sparkled. She clutched a bunch of flowers in her hands, but he could not pull his gaze from the joy on her face long enough to even consider what type they might be.

Anice and Marin had arrived several days prior for the wedding. They were at either side of her, as well as Cat, Leila and Lark who all giggled to one another and rushed to their seats as Ella strode down the aisle toward him. The stained glass windows flickered various colors over her as she walked, casting her in ethereal gold, brilliant green, sensual red, each even more appealing than the last. The lightheadedness returned with a powerful jolt that nearly knocked him to the ground at the beauty of the woman he loved.

He tightened his grip on his cane and forced his breath to remain even. He would not allow his body’s weakness to ruin the most incredible moment of his life. She kept her eyes locked on his down the entire length of the aisle until she was at his side.

He breathed her in, her sunshine, her happiness. His heart swelled to the point of bursting in his chest.

“You look beautiful,” he said reverently. Someone in the nearest pew gave a quiet, wistful sigh.

Ella put her hand over his on the cane. “And you are as handsome as ever, Bronson Berkley.” She bit her lip.

“I can scarcely wait to give you my wedding present,” he whispered as they both looked forward.

“You aren’t alone in that.” She slid him a glance from the corner of her eye.

Bernard thinned his mouth in obvious disapproval of their long conversation. They both immediately fell silent and the wedding proceeded.

It was a short ceremony, thanks be to God. Standing for such a long period of time was difficult for Bronson, but it was more than that. He had waited far too long for Ella to become his wife. His lovely Ella, who was intelligent and kind and brave enough to stand behind her own convictions.

She had given him a second chance when he had not deserved it, and they were all the better for it. He would spend his life devoted to her, to her continued happiness, even if they were pulled to court.

They had spoken of it, and they would return to Berkley Manor to oversee the land and its repairs. With the king on a military campaign, Bronson’s immediate return was unnecessary.

All at once, Bernard was uttering the final words of marriage that tied them both together. Ella smiled at him, a beaming, beautiful smile that shot straight into his heart and lit up his soul. Bronson stepped toward her, cupped her face with his free hand and lowered his mouth to hers.

Cheers erupted all around them.

“I love you, my dove,” Bronson said against her mouth before releasing her.

“And I love you.” She gave him a coy look. “I can’t wait any longer to share my wedding present with you.”

Even as she spoke, their families were rising from their seats to follow them from the chapel.

He led her down the aisle. “If you can’t wait, then neither can I.” His hand lifted for the breast of his doublet.

She tugged on his arm, dragging him to a brief stop. Her brilliant blue eyes danced with excitement, her cheeks and lips flushed. She was practically glowing with her joy. “I’m with child.”

He would be a father. A better father than his own had been.

A rush of emotions slammed into him. Joy. Immense, overwhelming joy. Eagerness for the future they would all share together. And fear. Cold as ice and gripping. For they had not lain together since their early days of courtship, due to his injuries. Which meant she had been in a delicate way when they went to the debatable lands.

“I did not know then.” She nudged him forward.

“Is my face so telling?” He asked. “I used to be so much better at masking my emotions.”

“I like you better this way.” She nestled closer to him. Her hand brushed his chest and she paused. “What is this?”

He grinned down at her. “My gift to you. For later.”