Page 64 of An Enchanting Dare

“Time to go,” he said decisively. He kissed her nose, and she laughed too, tears still streaming down her cheeks. “My wife is overcome by her great good fortune in gaining such a wonderful husband and needs to retire,” Sylvester announced to their families with great seriousness.

“Oh! You devil!” Aisling said in outrage, smacking his shoulder, and then she grinned at him. “But I can’t deny it.”

She kissed him, to the delight of everyone watching, who whooped and cheered.

“Please enjoy the rest of the celebrations, but we shall bid you a good day.”

Sylvester inclined his head in farewell as Aisling gave a regal wave, and he carried her off.

15th February 1842, Between Trevick Castle and Heathcote Manor, Warwickshire.

Sylvester looked down at Aisling, tucked into the crook of his arm as the carriage took them the short distance to their new home. They were going to be here for the next ten days before leaving for Ireland to enjoy their honeymoon. Kitty had warned them it would likely rain for the entire time, which suited Sylvester admirably. He had no intention of letting Aisling out of their bed, if at all possible. He had been heroically patient in his estimation, but a fellow had limits and he’d certainly reached his.

“Your brother told me you had absolutely no need to go to Sussex in search of horses,” Aisling said, giving him a narrow-eyed stare.

Sylvester shrugged, knowing she was returning to the same old argument. Not that he minded. He adored arguing with her. “Yes, I did. They were especially good ones, and it was an excellent deal.”

“Biddy made you come to me. She bespelled you.”

“Pfft.” He made the dismissive sound with the soul intention of seeing the sparks fly in her lovely dark eyes. It worked.

“So, you just happened to be staying at the Swan at the same time that I was staying at the Hall, and you just happened to be walking past the lake in the middle of the night?”

“Yes,” he said, his tone decisive. “Nothing but a coincidence.”

He bit back a grin. She was going to burst if he kept this up.

“And going to the bookshop when you’d never been there before, that wasn’t fate?”

He shook his head, wondering if she would try to shake him. She looked like she wanted to. “Coincidence.”

“Your horse throwing a shoe, and you getting yourself lost when you were a stone’s throw from the castle?”

A shiver ran down Sylvester’s spine and, despite himself, he had to agree there were a lot of implausible coincidences, but arguing with her was just too delicious. He’d never admit to it. “A strange coincidence, but a coincidence nonetheless.”

“Argh!” She threw up her hands as she did every time they had this conversation.

Sylvester chuckled and leaned down to kiss her nose. “I am a terrible trial to you, love. I know it.”

She huffed at him but kissed him back before relaxing into his arms and settling against him more comfortably.

“I told Mama and Papa,” she said after a long moment, glancing up at him.

Sylvester let out a breath of relief. He had tried to persuade Aisling to tell her parents what had happened to her all those years ago, but she had been reluctant, and he hadn’t wanted to press her.

“I’m glad,” he said, stroking her cheek and marvelling at how soft her skin was. She snuggled closer, her hand tracing the exquisite whitework embroidery on the elegant waistcoat she had made for him.

“So am I, though I wasn’t at first. Oh, Sylvester, they were so devastated and furious on my account. We sat up all night and cried buckets. Papa said it was a good job the fellow was dead, and I rather believe him. My father is a gentle soul, but I think he might truly have done the man serious harm if he were still alive. They blamed themselves, of course, which is why I didn’t want to tell them but… but it’s all right now. I feel better. They know the truth and I feel like… Like I have laid it to rest, and I can move on. A fresh start. You were right. I ought to have told them years ago.”

Sylvester smiled at her. “Ah, love. You’re going to have to get used to me being right. I always am, you know.”

She rolled her eyes at him, which was what he’d intended. He did not wish for her to be sad on such a joyful day.

“I think you mean you will need to get used to me being right. For I always am,” she retorted, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes that made his heart feel like it might burst. Aisling was happy.

He’d helped her chase away the past and that shy, unhappy girl who hid in corners was gone for good. His wife was full of life and naughtiness, and he was going to delight in provoking her for the rest of his days.

Chapter 22