“Such a fine toast, dear Hector,” Olivia said in a teasing tone that Bridget was now familiar with. “One would think that, with your excellent oratory skills, you would have managed to land a wife already, hmm?”
Hector glared at Olivia as the room exploded into laughter. In a moment, his hard glare had turned into a grin as he conceded defeat.
Bridget loved that about Hector—he knew how to take a joke, no matter how close to home it struck.
Towards the end of the extended meal, her father rose to address the congregation, his deep voice cutting through the din and commanding the room’s attention.
“I wish to offer my most sincere thanks and gratitude to all who have gathered here on this splendid occasion,” he began, his authoritative tone and stiff posture suggesting this was a matter of somber propriety.
However, as Bridget studied her father’s expression more closely, she detected the faintest glimmer of warmth lurking behind his ceremonial affectations.
“We are here today to celebrate the union of my daughter, Bridget, and His Grace, the Duke of Galway.” The Earl’s gaze shifted briefly to Abel, holding his stare for a lingering moment before continuing. “It does my paternal heart good to see her embarking on this new chapter with a partner who regards her with such… evident esteem.”
Soft murmurs of assent rippled through the guests as the Earl paused, drawing himself up to his full height. Bridget’s breath stilled in her lungs, realizing her father’s words carried significant meaning beyond mere pleasantries.
“In keeping with the spirit of new families being born through sacred vows,” the Earl went on, “I feel compelled to address one familial rift that has gone unresolved for too long.”
Bridget’s eyes widened in surprise as her father turned towards the far end of the table, where Virginia sat beside Thomas. Herbreath hitched as she watched the Earl approach her estranged sister, the lines on his face inscrutable.
For an endless stretch of seconds, a heavy silence descended over the room as father and daughter regarded one another. The weight of their history—the bitterness, the disappointment, the unresolved grievances—seemed to hang palpably in the air between them.
Then, at last, the Earl’s stern veneer fractured with the faintest softening around his eyes. He reached out, resting a gnarled hand on Virginia’s shoulder as a muscle jumped in his taut jaw.
“My daughter,” he began in a voice that was little more than a gruff murmur, “you have endured much hardship at the refusal of my affection and approval these many years.”
Virginia stared up at him, her lips parted in stunned disbelief. Beside her, Thomas shifted instinctively closer, his expression one of protectiveness.
Leonard pressed on, the words seeming to come with greater ease the longer he spoke. “I cannot rewrite the regrettable past between us. But I can acknowledge here, before all those most dear to us, that I was… unforgivably misguided in my treatment of you and your family.”
He turned his gaze to encompass Thomas and their children, his jaw tightening fractionally.
“You have created a life filled with more felicity and contentment than I could have foreseen. And for that, you have my…” He faltered briefly, seeming to struggle with the words. “… my respect and ardent wishes for your continued prosperity.”
By the time he lapsed into silence once more, tears glistened in Virginia’s eyes. For a suspended moment, it seemed the entire room was holding its collective breath, no one daring to disrupt this pivotal passage.
Then, with a tremulous intake of breath, Virginia surged to her feet, throwing her arms around her father in a fierce embrace. He stiffened momentarily before returning the gesture, his fingers cradling her head in a motion of unmistakable paternal tenderness.
A hushed swell of sniffles and murmurs filled the dining hall as the gathered guests bore witness to this long-overdue reconciliation. Bridget felt her own eyes stinging with tears of joy and profound gratitude that her sister had finally received the restitution she deserved.
As the embrace ended and the two separated, Thomas was the first to react—rising to clasp the Earl’s hand with an expression of profound solemnity and respect. Hector soon followed suit, clapping his father soundly on the back before drawing Virginia into his arms, overflowing with affectionate teasing and laughter.
Through it all, Bridget watched the scene unfold with her heart so full to overflowing that she feared it might burst apart at theseams. Beside her, Abel reached across to give her hand a tender squeeze. The deep understanding and approval shining in his eyes needed no words.
This was a moment of healing years in the making. A pivotal step towards a future where old grudges fell by the wayside and only love, acceptance, and familial fealty endured.
As the revelry commenced once more with renewed vigor, Bridget allowed herself to bask in the joy and promise of this new beginning—not just for herself and Abel but for the generations of Faddens that would follow.
Much later, as the sun began its descent towards the horizon, the newly married couple discreetly slipped away from the lingering festivities amid a flurry of well-wishes. Giggling like a pair of lovesick youths, they hurried hand-in-hand towards the carriage that would spirit them off to a private country estate for their honeymoon.
As the footman secured the door behind them, enclosing the lovers in their own intimate bubble, Bridget allowed herself to collapse breathlessly against the seat. Her laughter slowly faded as she turned her flushed, radiant face towards Abel’s adoring gaze.
“Well, husband,” she purred, the husky timbre of desire already creeping into her voice, “it seems we have well and truly begun our new journey as partners in this life.”
Abel’s expression shifted instantly, darkening with an intensity that made Bridget’s pulse flutter wildly. Without preamble, he gathered her into his arms, pulling her flush against the hard planes of his body as he captured her lips in a searing, breathless kiss.
Bridget gasped against his fervent onslaught, parting her lips to deepen the heated exploration as tingles of delicious electricity sparked along every nerve ending. This man was her husband now—a fact that still seemed nearly incomprehensible after months of longing glances and unrequited yearning.
His hands splayed possessively across the small of her back, fingertips drawing delirious patterns that threatened to undo her against the fine material of her gown. A desperate whimper escaped her as he continued the onslaught of demanding kisses along the slender column of her neck.
