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“That,” Amanda said, pointing at Emily, “is why your ego is outsized. You’ve got this one eternally puffing you up.”

Benedict gave her an indulgent look. “I’m sorry; weren’t you talking about how you plan to have an unconventionally fun wedding? Apologies for distracting you from that fascinating topic.”

Emily glared.You traitor, she said silently.

His eyes grew wide.It’s every man for himself with your sister, he replied, also without words.

“No,” Amanda corrected, rolling her eyes with fond exasperation. “We were talking about how I don’t intend to getmarried forquitesome time as I plan to have all sort of other kinds of fun, first.”

“As your elder sister, I am not remotely comforted by this notion,” Emily murmured.

But she was smiling. Amanda often reminded her of Grace, a comparison that was less painful now that they finally knew the whole truth behind Grace’s disappearance. Thinking of Amanda that way also helped Emily remain calm in the face of some of her sister’s more creative antics.

Whatever response Amanda opened her mouth to make (which would no doubt make Emily nervous, especially to hear it uttered while they were in church) was cut short by their opportunity to shuffle out into the late spring sunshine. They hurried to return to Moore Manor for the wedding breakfast which was a delightful, lighthearted affair despite the way Emily’s father kept grumbling about Mr. Cartwright’s lack of title.

Lord Drowton ignored his eldest daughter’s covert efforts to get him to stop with this line of conversation—it was hardly appropriate anywhere, let alone at the couple’s wedding celebration—but was not nearly so dismissive of whatever his son-in-law said to him in a quiet, aside moment.

“Thank you,” Emily whispered when her husband returned to her side.

Benedict gave her a tight-lipped smile. “You’re welcome, my love. I can’t say I care for the fact that your father won’t listen to youwithoutme having to interfere, but you know I am always happy to stand at your side whenever I’m needed.”

Emily didn’t have anything to say that Amanda wouldn’t have categorized as nauseating, so she merely slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze. That said all she really needed to say, anyway.

Benedict, in any case, was gazing placidly out at the center of the party where Rose was talking happily with an attendee and Lionel, at her side, was gazing at his new wife with naked adoration.

“Besides, Cartwright might not have a title, but he’s far from insolvent. Beneath that bookish exterior is a brilliant mind for business. Not to mention that he clearly would throw down his life for your sister. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen the man smile before today, and now, he can’t seem to stop,” Benedict observed.

“And Rosie seems so happy, too,” Emily said in agreement. Marriage had offered a bit of maturity to her sister…

Though, she noted as she saw the twins exchange a glance that spoke of mischief, it had not erased Rosie’s spirited personality. The Terror Twins would continue their reign, apparently.

Emily could not be sorry about it.

“And you, Lady Moore?” Benedict asked, pulling Emily from her thoughts about how dearly she loved her sisters.

“And me?”

“Are you very happy?”

She scarcely had to tilt her head back to look up at him, something she’d come to love. “I daresay Amanda is right, and youaregetting quite an ego if you’re fishing for compliments that transparently,” she teased. “But I shall indulge you. Yes, I am wretchedly happy. You see, I once bumped into this simplyawfulman on a ballroom floor?—”

Her joking recitation was cut off with a laugh as Benedict stepped around her and tugged her by the hand out ontothisroom’s dance floor just as the musicians started to play.

“Dance with me now,” he ordered. “Tell the rest of the story later. After all, I already suspect it has a happy ending.”

“It does indeed,” she murmured and let herself be folded lovingly into his embrace.

The End?