And it was all he needed to lean that last bit forward and capture her mouth with his own.
There would be more questions later, he was sure. More conversation and explanations.
They would need to talk to the constable and likely Lord Brisby, too. They would have guests to explain things to and a wedding to finish planning and commence with.
But for now.
For now, he kissed his wife-to-be, revelling in the reality that she was that and that she was in his arms at all.
Epilogue
Henry’s bedchamber was different than her own. Larger, more heavily decorated, and more masculine, to be sure. It was odd to see her things piled amongst his dark wood furniture. But they had been moved in earlier that morning before their vows had even been said.
“I refuse to have my wife so far from me once I have anything to say about it,” Henry had muttered into her ear when she’d dared to ask him at the reception afterwards.
And he’d been true to his word.
Throughout the entire ceremony, he’d stood by her side, her hand in his. He’d held her hand through the congratulations, through the dancing, and through any conversation they’d been drawn into.
And then, once all their guests had been seen to, and they were allowed to go at last, he’d swept her into his arms and carried her up the stairs despite her protests of ability and giggles.
And then he’d left her to get dressed for the night herself.
She felt silly standing there in the elaborate nightgown that her mother had gifted her earlier that morning amongst whispers of a terribly awkward talk and explanation that Josephine couldn’t bear to tell her that she no longer actually needed.
Silly and on edge, her heart hammered in her throat as she stood in front of the open balcony door to look down at the gardens darkened by the night.
It was strange to think that only a few weeks before, she had kneeled on the dirt down there, not knowing if she was going to live or die. And now she no longer even needed the wrapping to cover her wounds from that morning.
Even stranger still to think of all the events that had led to that moment.
Something moved behind her, only the whisper of a breath before Henry’s arms came to encircle her waist, careful to avoid the small bandages that remained where Catherine had stabbed her. His hand framed her hip, his fingers pressing into the barely-there fabric of her nightgown as he pressed his body against the back of hers.
“What’re you standing here thinking about?” he asked, his breath tickling the line of her neck as he kissed his way up it.
“I was just thinking how terrible it was of you to leave me all alone,” she teased, trying to turn in his arms but being stopped by the weight of his arms about her.
“You weren’t alone.” He laughed into her throat, his teeth nibbling the line there as she felt her pulse jump.
“Pft. Then what would you call it? You left the room! You walked out of the door and left me in here!”
Henry stilled behind her. Or at least most of him did. She could feel a very particular part that kept moving, growing against her backside as he pressed even harder against the back of her hips.
“You think I left the room?” His voice was low and silky as he dropped his hand against her hip, his fingers balling up the fabric of her gown as he dragged it against her skin. “I walked away so that you could get changed.”
Josephine’s breath caught as she felt his palm rough and hot against the skin of her thigh.
“Alone?”
Henry’s teeth dragged against her shoulder as he nosed the neckline of her gown down it. “Separated,” he muttered intoher skin. “So that you could get changed. I knew if I was close enough, that I would stop you. That I would be distracted.”
Josephine’s mind filled in those blanks that his words left.
“And that would be a bad thing?” she whispered, that heat pooling familiarly in her belly as the pads of his fingers danced across her thigh to the softer inner skin.
“I gave it a lot of thought,” Henry hummed, edging his fingers up between her thighs until she moved her feet apart to give him more room. “I took you that first night on the vanity.”
That heat intensified where his fingers were just dancing over her, playing around the curls and not quite dipping in to where she knew she would feel it the most. The memory of that night and the vanity was almost too much for her to bear.
