Page 73 of Not the Duke's Virgin
Victoria shook her head. “Let us not dwell on that now. This moment belongs to us.”
Simon smiled tenderly. “You are quite right.” He drew her close once more. “To new beginnings,” he toasted, before kissing her thoroughly.
And at that moment, with the man she loved in her arms, the troubles of the past seemed to fade away, overshadowed by the bright promise of the future.
EPILOGUE
St James’s Church glowed with the light of a hundred candles, casting a warm glow over the gathered assembly. Garlands of flowers decked the soaring stone columns, and the air was rich with their perfume. At the front of the nave stood the imposing figure of the Duke of Hayward, an uncharacteristic smile softening his usually stern mien as he awaited his bride.
Murmurs arose among the crowd as Victoria appeared in the doorway on Aurora’s arm. She was resplendent in an ivory satin gown, face alight with joy beneath the gossamer veil. As she drew nearer, Simon’s breath caught at how utterly captivating she looked.
Aurora placed Victoria’s hand in Simon’s with an approving nod. Lord Newton was not invited to the wedding after what he did to Aurora and his greedy plans to marry them off for wealth.
“It is for the best,” Victoria had said bravely, though Simon knew it pained her.
Still, she would not allow her father’s greed to ruin her big day. She had her true family by her side, Simon thought, as his gaze lingered on where Aurora sat with her husband Joseph and their infant son. He gave silent thanks that Victoria had their support on this momentous occasion.
The ceremony passed in a blur of heartfelt vows and smiling faces. When it came time to kiss the bride, Simon did so with profound tenderness, seeking to convey all that he felt for this remarkable woman who had so utterly transformed his life. Victoria clung to him tightly, joy and love infusing her countenance.
Too soon, they were stepping out into the crisp autumn air amidst a shower of flower petals tossed by well-wishers. Liveried footmen handed Victoria and Simon into a gleaming black carriage emblazoned with the Hayward crest. They waved farewell as the coach pulled away, bound for the wedding breakfast at the ducal townhouse.
Alone at last, Victoria turned to Simon with bright eyes. “We did it! I can scarcely believe we are wed!”
Simon clasped her hands in his own. “You are the most radiant bride that ever lived,” he declared fervently.
Victoria’s dimples flashed. “Do you know, I believe that is the most effusive compliment you have ever paid me,” she teased.
“I shall have to endeavor to outdo it, then,” Simon returned with mock solemnity. He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her wrist just above the lacy hem of her glove. “For you deserve all the praise in Christendom for agreeing to shackle yourself to a wretch like me.”
Victoria swatted his shoulder playfully. “Oh, do be serious! I am the luckiest woman alive, and you know it.” Her expression softened. “To think but a few short months ago, I could barely stand the sight of you. Now I cannot imagine a life without you in it.”
Simon enfolded her in his embrace. “Nor I you, my darling. You have made me a better man in every way. My life truly began the day you came into it.”
He kissed her then, reveling in the sweetness of her lips beneath his own. When they finally parted, Victoria nestled contentedly against his shoulder.
“Just think, soon we shall be at Hayward Manor as husband and wife,” she mused. “Oh, I cannot wait to see it! I shall explore every nook and cranny. And the gardens! I shall spend every sunny day out of doors.”
Amusement tugged at Simon’s mouth. “Careful, or else I shall become frightfully jealous of the grounds. Though I suppose I must learn to share you now.”
Victoria’s hazel eyes danced impishly. “Indeed you must! I warn you, I fully intend to be quite shamelessly enamored of our home.”
Simon kissed the tip of her nose. “I would expect nothing less. And I look forward to making a lifetime of memories there with you.”
Too soon, the carriage was pulling up before the townhouse. As they entered the gaily decorated ballroom, cheers rose among the guests.
Madeline rushed forward to embrace Victoria enthusiastically. “Oh, Victoria, I am so happy for you!” she exclaimed. She turned to Simon and bobbed a playful curtsey. “Your Grace, or should I say, Cousin?”
Simon chuckled. “I shall have to become accustomed to that. But you must call me Simon.”
Madeline smiled brightly. “Very well… Simon.”
The newlyweds greeted the other guests, including Aurora and Joseph. Young baby Matthew cooed happily from his father’s arms, blissfully unaware of the occasion.
Over an elegant repast, ribald toasts were made to the bride and groom, prompting much blushing and laughter. Then Simon led Victoria for their first dance as husband and wife. They glided effortlessly across the gleaming parquet floor, lost in their shared joy.
Too soon, it was time for Victoria to toss her bouquet. The ladies gathered eagerly, Madeline foremost among them. With an impish grin over her shoulder, Victoria threw the bouquet back. Amidst excited squeals, it landed directly in Madeline’s hands. Madeline turned scarlet as the guests applauded.
All too quickly, the coach was called around to take them to the ducal estate. There were hugs and kisses and fervent good wishes before Victoria and Simon finally climbed inside. With a snap of the reins, they were off, the sounds of laughter fading behind them.
Alone at last, Victoria gave a happy sigh and curled into Simon’s side. “I can hardly believe this wonderful day is real.”
Simon wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Believe it, my darling. For you have made me the happiest man in England.” He nuzzled her ear. “And I intend to spend every moment proving how much I cherish you.”
Victoria lifted her face to him eagerly, and soon all conversation was suspended in favor of more pleasurable pursuits.
It was fully dark when the carriage finally turned down the long drive leading to Hayward Manor.
The End?