Chapter 14

Fourteen

E mily awoke with a contented smile, her heart fluttering as memories of the previous night filled her mind—Nicolas’s tender words, his warm embrace, and the promise of their future together. Today felt like a promise in itself, a fresh start wrapped in the beauty of the season.

Christmas’s past had held a bittersweet ache, a reminder of all she had lost. But this year... this year, it was a symbol of all she had found. Love, hope, and a future that sparkled like the snow outside her window.

Eager to join her family downstairs, she dressed with hurried excitement. As she descended the grand staircase, the familiar scents of cinnamon and pine wafted through the house, accompanied by the joyful sound of laughter echoing from the parlor. The air itself seemed to hum with the festive energy of Christmas morning.

She paused in the doorway, taking in the sight before her. Mathew sat cross-legged by the tree, his face alight with boyish excitement as he examined a brightly wrapped package. Beatrice and Charlotte huddled together on the settee, whispering and giggling like schoolgirls. And there, standing tall and handsome by the fireplace, was Nicolas.

His gaze found hers the moment she entered the doorway, his smile spreading like sunshine over her heart. “Merry Christmas, my love,” he said, crossing the room in long, graceful strides, his presence filling the space between them. He took her hand, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles.

Emily’s cheeks flushed. “Merry Christmas, Nicolas.”

“Mother,” Mathew called, breaking the spell between them. “Come see what Father Christmas has brought.”

Mathew’s wide-eyed grin was contagious, his excitement infectious as he tugged her toward the tree. Seeing him so carefree, his laughter ringing out, warmed her very soul. It was as though the final piece of her world had clicked into place, with Nicolas now beside them.

Emily allowed herself to be pulled into the room, swept up in the joy and excitement of Christmas morning. As presents were exchanged and exclaimed over, she could not help but marvel at how different this Christmas was from the last. Gone was the loneliness and sorrow that had plagued her for so long. In its place was a warmth and contentment she had scarcely dared to hope for.

As the morning wore on, the group gathered around the fireplace, sipping chocolate and sharing stories. Nicolas’s laughter filled the room, his eyes twinkling as he recounted his mischievous schoolboy antics. Mathew was enthralled, hanging on every word, and Emily delighted in the sight.

Nicolas had seamlessly slipped into this role—not as a replacement for Mathew’s father, but as someone who could share in their lives, in their joy and laughter, as well as their sorrows.

“You should have seen the look on old Finch’s face when he realized his wig was missing.” Nicolas chuckled. “He searched the entire dormitory, never once thinking to look up at the chandelier where we had hung it.”

Mathew howled with laughter, nearly spilling his chocolate. “Did you get caught?”

Nicolas winked. “Never.”

Beatrice shook her head, a fond smile playing on her lips. “I shudder to think what mischief you will inspire in our young Mathew. Though I daresay a bit of harmless fun never hurt anyone.”

Charlotte laughed. “Indeed. I believe a touch of mischief is essential for a well-rounded education.”

Emily shook her head, unable to suppress her own smile.

“Only the best kind, I assure you,” Nicolas said with a merry grin as he squeezed Emily’s hand in tender reassurance.

A sudden commotion at the door drew everyone’s attention. The butler entered, looking somewhat flustered.

“My apologies for the interruption,” he announced, “but Lord and Lady Quinton, his and her grace, the Duke and Duchess of Langley, and Viscount Brantford have arrived. They are accompanied by... a vicar, ma’am.”

Emily’s heart raced, her gaze meeting Nicolas’s. The air in the parlor seemed to crackle with anticipation and bewilderment.

“Show them in,” Emily said, rising to her feet.

As the unexpected guests entered, Emily’s gaze fell upon the vicar standing amongst them, his hand holding what appeared to be a special license. Her breath caught, the air around her stilling. Could it be? Her eyes darted to Nicolas, finding the same blend of shock and excitement mirrored in his expression. The realization struck her like a wave, her heart leaping with joy.

Lord Quinton cleared his throat. “Well, my boy,” he addressed Nicolas, “we could wait no longer to have Lady Fairchild join the family. What say you to a Christmas wedding?”

A collective gasp filled the room, followed by an eruption of excited chatter. Emily felt her cheeks flush as she looked at Nicolas, who was already striding toward her, his face alight with joy.

“My darling,” he said, taking her hands in his, “shall we oblige them?”

Emily’s heart soared. “Yes,” she said, barely able to contain her happiness. “There is nothing I want more.”

Charlotte let out a squeal of delight, clasping her hands together. “Oh, Emily. We must ready you at once.”

Beatrice was already tugging at Emily’s arm. “Come, come. We have not a moment to lose. You simply cannot be married in your day dress.”

“I brought an orange blossom wreath for your hair,” Lady Quinton said, stepping forward, Joslyn at her side.

As the ladies whisked Emily away, she glimpsed Nicolas’s radiant smile. Her stomach flittered, a mixture of nerves and excitement surging through her.

Once in her chamber, Emily found herself at the center of a whirlwind of activity. Charlotte fussed with her hair, arranging pieces that had gone astray, while Beatrice rummaged through Emily’s wardrobe.

“Ah, this will be perfect,” Beatrice said, her eyes gleaming as she pulled out a gown of ivory silk with delicate red rosettes. “You will look like a vision, Emily—he will not be able to take his eyes off you.”

As Emily changed, she could not help but marvel at the turn of events. “I can scarcely believe this is happening,” she confessed, her voice trembling with emotion.

Charlotte paused in her ministrations, meeting Emily’s gaze in the mirror. “My dear friend, you deserve all the happiness in the world. And Nicolas... well, he looks at you as if you are a priceless gem.”

Emily felt tears prick at her eyes, overwhelmed by the love surrounding her. As Beatrice helped her into the gown, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. The ivory silk draped elegantly over her figure, the simplicity of the design lending her an air of timeless grace.

“We must not forget flowers,” Joslyn, Duchess of Langley, said, dashing to the dressing table where her mother had laid the orange blossom wreath. She returned to Emily’s side, then placed the wreath on her head, winding a few curls around it.

As the ladies stepped back, Emily took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I am ready,” she announced, her voice filled with quiet determination and joy.

Her heart fluttered as she stepped into the parlor, her gaze seeking Nicolas. He stood before the vicar, his tall frame silhouetted against the flickering firelight. Mathew stood at his side looking every bit the lord of the house.

As her gaze met Nicolas’s, she saw a flash of awe and tenderness in his deep green eyes that made her breath catch.

Nicolas’s chest tightened as Emily approached, her beauty amplified by the soft glow of candles and the radiant smile that graced her lips. He extended his hand, unable to suppress a slight tremor as she placed her delicate fingers in his.

“Dearly beloved,” the vicar began, his voice steady and warm.

Emily locked gazes with Nicolas. He stared back at her with an expression of earnest devotion that made her heart swell.

His hand trembled slightly as he took hers, his usual grin softening into something deeper, more heartfelt. “I, Nicolas,” he began, his voice thick with emotion, “take thee, Emily, to be my wedded wife, my heart’s truest companion, from now until forever…” His eyes never left hers, and for a moment, it was just the two of them, bound by words that held the promise of forever.

As Nicolas recited his vows, she felt tears of joy threatening to spill. She blinked them back, determined to commit every detail of this moment to memory.

“To have and to hold,” he continued, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of her hand, “from this day forward, for better, for worse...”

Beatrice and Lady Quinton dabbed at their eyes with handkerchiefs, while Charlotte and Joslyn beamed with pride and joy. The men stood sentinel, their gazes shining with approval and warmth while Mathew rocked back on his heels, a barely contained smile threatening to break free.

Happy tears threatened to spill forth as Emily spoke her vows. “I, Emily, take thee, Nicolas, to be my wedded husband...” Her voice faltered, not from hesitation, but from the overwhelming joy that surged within her. At long last, the aching loneliness she had carried in her heart was replaced by something far more beautiful—a love that was steady, enduring, and true.

Nicolas’s throat tightened as he listened to her words, marveling at how this remarkable woman had captured his heart so completely. He was filled with a profound sense of reverence for the moment and the woman before him.

As they exchanged rings, their fingers intertwined, both feeling the weight of the promises they had just made. The vicar’s final proclamation was met with a swell of affection from those gathered, but for Emily and Nicolas, the world had narrowed to just the two of them, united at last.

The room erupted in joyous applause. Emily’s heart lifted, soaring as Nicolas pulled her into his arms. His lips met hers in a kiss that was both tender and bold, a kiss that spoke of promises kept, of devotion unshaken.

“My darling wife,” he said, tasting the words for the first time. “I do believe we have caused quite the stir this Christmas Day.”

Emily’s fingers tightened around his. “Indeed, we have, my dearest husband. And I could not imagine a more perfect Christmas.”

As they turned to face their loved ones, the outpouring of affection overwhelmed Emily. She dabbed at a tear as slid down her cheek.

“Oh, Emily,” Beatrice exclaimed, a bright smile etched across her face. “You make such a beautiful bride.”

Joslyn nodded in agreement. “And on Christmas Day, no less. How wonderfully romantic.”

The celebration continued well into the evening, with toasts and laughter filling the air. As the clock struck midnight, Nicolas took Emily’s hand, leading her away from the dwindling party.

In the quiet intimacy of their chamber, his lips grazed the tender skin of her shoulder. “My love,” he said, his voice low and seductive, his fingers slowly unfastening the delicate buttons of her gown. “I intend to make this night magical beyond your wildest dreams.”

Her breath caught as she felt the brush of his fingertips against her skin. “Nicolas,” she whispered, “I never dared hope for such happiness.”

“This is but the beginning, my dear. I have a lifetime of wicked delights planned for you.”

Her fingers trembled as she reached for him, tracing the contours of his lean, athletic form.

Their lips met in a passionate kiss, tender yet filled with urgency. He guided her to their bed, laying her down with utmost care. His body covered hers, warm and solid, as he showered her with gentle kisses.

“I have dreamt of this moment,” she confessed.

Nicolas smiled against her skin. “As have I, my love. And now I intend to make those dreams a reality. All. Night. Long.”

His hands traced gentle patterns across her skin, his eyes dark with desire. “Tonight, my love,” he said, his voice low and reverent, “we begin our forever.” Her breath hitched as his lips found hers.

With adoring touches and whispered endearments, they explored each other, their bodies becoming one. Her body trembled with need as he pressed into her, calming her and igniting her soul. And when they reached their peak, he captured her lips in a devastating kiss as they tumbled over the edge together.

As they lay entwined, basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking, Emily felt a profound sense of contentment. She nestled closer to Nicolas, savoring the warmth of his embrace. “I believe we have found our happily ever after.”

“Indeed, we have, my beloved wife.” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “And this, my darling, is just the first night of forever.”