17. Epilogue

Epilogue

Six months and one week later

“ Y ou may now kiss the bride.”

Will fought his grimace as Lord Clements leaned in to kiss his new countess, although his heart tugged at the sight.

“Smile, Will,” Adelaide mock-whispered from his side as the chapel erupted in cheers. “They’re so happy together.”

Will stood, and she joined him in applauding the newlyweds as they strolled through the church with the energy of a couple half their age. “I can’t believe my mother is a noblewoman.”

The six months since Adelaide’s aborted wedding had been near-torture for him, as he’d returned to Saltford for his apprenticeship while she assisted Lord Clements— John , he supposed, as the man was his stepfather now—garner support for the Married Women’s Property Act in Parliament. His mother had been thrilled to serve as chaperone for her favorite political columnist in the interim.

Will hadn’t expected to return to Barrington to find his mother and the earl madly in love.

“Does that make you fancy by marriage?” She screwed up her face, but was still too beautiful for words. “I don’t think I like fancy men.”

He turned, took advantage of the general chaos following the ceremony, and kissed her. She hummed, stroked her palm down his chest and grabbed his hand as they followed the congregants out of the chapel, the same chapel Adelaide had fled from months ago. The morning air bit at his cheeks and he squinted, the brilliant sun reflecting off the fresh powdery snowfall.

“I suppose I’ll have to find a new chaperone,” she said, and he guided her across a slick section of flagstone towards the edge of the celebrants. “Now that mine has married my former fiancé.”

Will huffed his displeasure. “It all does sound rather sordid, doesn’t it?”

“Delightfully so.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and she looked up with a soft smile. Her cheeks and the tips of her ears had turned pink from the cold, and her lapis eyes sparkled. God, but he was in love with her. Spending half a year away had nearly destroyed him, but she needed to write, and he needed to learn everything about his new trade. But today, on the first day of the new year, the Married Women’s Property Act was the law of the land, and, as of last week, he had completed his apprenticeship.

Will slid his hand into his pocket and felt the cool metal weight, squeezed tight, and released the breath he’d been holding. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

“Now?” She gestured towards where his mother and John were surrounded by well-wishers. “We need to go to the wedding breakfast.”

“No one will notice. Trust me.”

She chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment, then made an exasperated expression. “I suppose. But not too late—“

Her last word was broken off as he tugged her hand, leading her out of the chapel’s courtyard and down through the icy streets of Barrington. He did his best to restrain his pace to accommodate her shorter legs, but by the time they reached the squat building at the bottom of the high street, he was out of breath and his heart raced.

Adelaide’s nose wrinkled as she looked up at the heavy wooden doors. “What are we doing here? I saw Mr. Cartwright up at the church.”

Of course, he knew Barrington’s resident blacksmith had been at the ceremony. He’d wished Will luck before Adelaide arrived, handing him the item Will was pulling from his pocket. “I don’t need Mr. Cartwright.”

With trembling fingers, he held out a large metal key, savoring the satisfaction when he slid it into place and the lock clicked open. He pushed the heavy door aside and motioned for Adelaide to enter, and she passed him with a wary glance.

She turned to lean against the wide counter separating the front of the shop from the dormant forge. “Then why are we here?”

Lord, but his palms were sweating. He rubbed them on his thighs. “Because… it’s my smithy now.”

Adelaide blinked, her lashes flashing over sparkling blue eyes. “It’s… but how—”

“Mr. Cartwright is retiring,” he interrupted. “He told my mum weeks ago, and she wrote to me, and…”

He couldn’t explain how it had felt reading his mother’s words, how he’d laughed, actually laughed. How could she have known that someone had made an offer for his old shop in Wilmslow only the day before? Suddenly his future opened up before him, wide and bright and happy.

Fate had smiled upon him.

“You’ve bought this place?” Adelaide pushed away from the counter and ran to him, grabbing his hands. “You’re moving here ?”

“Yes.” He grinned as she grabbed his shoulders and tugged him down before pressing kisses over his lips and cheeks.

The kisses turned heated, her tongue tangling with his, but he wasn’t ready yet. There was one important question he had to ask.

Will took her by the waist and lifted her onto the counter; she responded by shifting on her hips and tugging up her skirt, revealing the soft white skin of her plump thighs. They’d scarcely had a moment alone together since he returned for the wedding, and his cock throbbed at the sight of her.

His goddess, his queen.

Hopefully, soon, his bride.

“I was wondering,” he said, dragging his thumbs over the bare flesh above her wool stockings, “now that the Property Act has become law, what will you do with your time?”

She released a rueful laugh. “I won’t be thinking about marriage, that’s certain. Between planning John’s ceremony and all the discussion around marital property, I’m looking forward to thinking of something else.”

He made a show of furrowing his brow. “ Not marriage? Funny, it’s all I’ve been thinking about for several months now. Six months, to be precise.”

She pulled in a sharp breath and scowled, and his stomach dropped. Not the reaction he’d been hoping for.

“You. Lout .” She swatted his arm, but a smile pulled at her lips. “I thought you’d forgotten!”

“You said to wait—”

“Six months!” She poked her finger to his chest, and he caught it, kissed the tip. “Six months was last week!”

He shrugged. “I didn’t want to steal the attention from my mother.”

“No excuses!”

He heaved a dramatic sigh and took both of her hands in his. “Adelaide Kimball, will you—”

“ Yes!” She threw herself at him, pressing her lips to his and knocking off his hat in the process.

Will laughed and tugged her close. He never planned to let her go. “You didn’t let me ask the question!”

“I’m impatient.” She grinned, kissed him again. He hoped she’d never stop. “You can ask me now, but I’ve already answered.”

He dropped to one knee and looked up to see his entire future standing before him. “Will you be my bride?”

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