Page 83 of Rogue Lyon

Mrs. Dove-Lyon gave a nod and a harpist played a soft tune.

Jules turned to the door, anticipation tightening his insides as he waited for his bride.

And then there she was. Elegant and pretty in a long, pale-yellow gown that reminded him of spring primroses. Her cheeks were a little flushed and curls of hair hung before her ears. She had on her pearl necklace and in her hands was a bouquet of green fronds and white roses.

His heart skipped a beat as their gazes connected. This was it. Forever. He’d never be apart from her, always protect her, and making her smile, seeing her ponder a new piece of information, would be his favorite thing to do until the day he died.

“Welcome,” the minister said as Meredith drew level with him. “To this blessed sanctum where we will make the most solemn of vows.”

Meredith blew out a breath. It was a little shaky, so he reached for her hand.

“Do not be nervous, my love.”

“I am trying not to be.” She smiled gently. “I feel better that you are here.”

“Where else would I be?” He let out a gruff little laugh. “But here?”

“You are Jules Habsburg. You could have stolen into the dark of the night, never to be seen again. Marriage may have spooked you more than any ghoul could.”

“If it were marriage to anyone other than you, then yes, I’d be in Timbuktu by now.” He grinned. “But luckily, it is you with whom I stand here and there is nowhere else in the entire world I want to be right now.”

Her shoulders softened and her smile was more genuine. “Me, either.”

“Good, good, you are both here and glad to be, so let’s move forward.” The minister held up a battered copy of the Bible. “No time to lose.”

The vows were short and sweet and when the minister had finished, Jules stepped forward and took his bride in his arms.

His heart was beating wildly, a sense of coming home, a new beginning and extreme joy filling him all at once. A mountain slide of love and desire consumed him.

He took possession of her mouth, knowing it would be the first of many hundreds, thousands of kisses they would share as man and wife.

She clung to him, her small hands gripping his shoulders. The flowers had fallen to the floor.

He held in a moan, a deep grumble of relief that he had her back in his arms. That she was his and he’d never lose her again.

That wasn’t an option.

“Yes, yes, we know how passionate you are for each other.” Mrs. Dove-Lyon clapped. “Congratulations. Congratulations and all that.”

“Yes, congratulations, both of you.” Nancy whooped.

“Congratulations,” Bethany called.

They broke apart. Meredith’s cheeks burned scarlet and she retrieved her bouquet.

“And well done on taming the rake of the ton,” Nancy added with a grin.

“And you know all about taming,” Jules replied to her. “With that big snake of yours.” He laughed.

“Sydney is quite tame. In fact, would you like to be his caretaker? I am going away for a while.”

“I’m not quite ready for that,” Jules said with a grin. “But I’m sure you’ll find someone.”

“Where are you going?” Meredith asked her friend.

“To Scotland, a little archeological trip.”

“Are you?” Mrs. Dove-Lyon asked, knotting her fingers. “Maybe we should have a little conversation about that, Nancy. Before you go hop, skipping, and jumping off with the Duke of Newgale.”