Her smile grew impossibly wider. Slowly, Dorothy knelt on the ground, so her head reached just the middle of his chest, thanks to his height.
“I’d always rather be happy,” she murmured.
“Is that a yes?” he asked with clear hope.
“Yes,” she said, giggling. “I will marry you, Stephen.”
His smile grew to something she had never seen before, not in all the years she had known him. His free hand reached for her chin, and with the softest of touches, he tilted her face up a little, leaning in.
Dorothy closed her eyes, waiting for that kiss, the thrill of it, the excitement of it to consume her again—
“You two are not married yet!” Allan’s voice bellowed across the lake.
Dorothy erupted in laughter, practically falling into Stephen’s chest. He wrapped an arm around her waist as they both turned to look at Allan.
Allan had sprinted across the garden and now stood on the other side of the lake, waving his arms like a madman, his hair wild, his cheeks flushed and his cravat quite undone.
“I hope she said yes after how this looks.” He motioned frantically toward the pair of them once again.
“I did,” Dorothy called.
“Thank God.” Allan breathed a huge sigh of relief and then turned his eyes to the heavens. “Well, well done, Father. Only you could have predicted this.”
“What did he say?” Dorothy murmured to Stephen.
“I shall tell you when we are back at the house.” Stephen kissed the back of her hand again, apparently eager to kiss her in some regard, even if he couldn’t manage it on the lips because of her brother’s presence. “If your brother doesn’t kill me first.”
“Stop kissing her!” Allan snapped.
“It is polite to kiss a lady’s hand,” Dorothy reminded him.
“Not when you’re both kneeling on the ground, drenched and covered in mud, without a chaperone.” Allan motioned to the pair of them, unable to calm his wild gestures now. “For God’s sake, both of you, come back to the house so we can toast this moment. I expected you to come into the house covered in dirt when you married, Dorothy, but I admit, I wasn’t expecting it of you, Stephen. Now, come on, get back across this lake, or I shall have to find my way across it to get to you.”
Stephen helped Dorothy to her feet, and then they walked back to the lake.
Before they reached the water’s edge, Dorothy pulled on his hand. “Oh, no, I just realized something.”
“What?” He jerked his head back toward her, sudden panic in his eyes as if he thought she might retract her assent.
“What does this mean for our wager?” Dorothy asked. “Who has won? Who is betrothed first?”
Stephen chuckled warmly and threaded his fingers through hers. “I do believe in all our games and arguments over the years, Dorotheo, this might be the first time we can ever call it a firm draw.”
EPILOGUE
One Month Later
“Please, everyone, would you stand and help me in congratulating the newlywed couple, Stephen Weston, the Duke of Stotbury, and his wife, Dorothy Weston, the Duchess of Stotbury.” The vicar’s words echoed around the chapel as Stephen turned to face Dorothy.
She had such a smile on her face that it crinkled all her features in the most delightful way. Stephen couldn’t help returning that smile, his eyes lingering on the veil that he had lifted at the beginning of the ceremony and now hung at the back of her head. In all his wild imagining of this moment, he had never imagined he would be this happy.
He bent toward her and lifted her hand, raising it to his lips as, all around them, the congregation applauded. He kissed the back of her hand, watching as her lips parted ever so slightly as if his mere touch sent a quiver of delight through her body.
“Happy?” he whispered to her, longing to hear the words.
At once, she adopted a playful frown. “What on earth gave you that idea?”
He laughed deeply and tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, ready to escort her out of the chapel. “No idea. The smile must have been a flicker of the light.”
