Page 41 of Charming the Headmistress (Spinsters and their Suitors #3)
T he late summer breeze carried the scent of honeysuckle and roses as Eleanor strolled the garden path at Greenbrook Academy.
Laughter drifted from the lawn, where a few girls practiced lines for an upcoming recital.
The season had mellowed, but the grounds still brimmed with life: the sky a soft, cloudless blue, the hedges lush and green, the world warm and full of promise.
She slowed near the fountain at the garden’s heart, where the water danced and shimmered in the afternoon light. Footsteps approached behind her, confident and unhurried. She turned, a smile already blooming as her husband came into view.
Camden—no longer just Lord Camden to her, but the man who had made her his wife—walked toward her with that easy grace she had come to know so well.
His eyes found hers instantly, alight with quiet joy.
He looked like himself, but more at peace than she had ever seen him, the shadows of the past few months chased away by the light they now shared.
“You promised me this moment,” he said as he reached her side, voice low and warm. “A day just for us. No petitions, no crises—just husband and wife.”
“I remember,” she replied, laughing softly. “Though you didn’t mention you’d bring one of your poetry books.”
He lifted it with an exaggeratedly serious look. “I thought I might tempt my wife into reading a few verses with me.”
She arched a brow. “After everything, you still think I’ll endure your endless sonnets?”
He chuckled, closing the distance between them. “Not endure—enjoy. I’ve seen the way your eyes soften now when I read aloud.”
She couldn’t help but smile, leaning closer. “Perhaps I’ve come to like them—just a little.”
“Then my heart is at peace,” he teased, his voice dropping to a gentler note. “Because there is no greater joy than sharing what we love with the one we love best.”
He read her several poems and she rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying the moment.
They settled on the carved stone bench, the book forgotten beside them as they spoke of Helena—now thriving and confident—and of the girls, their studies, the academy’s bright plans for the next term.
They dreamed aloud of days to come: journeys, quiet evenings, challenges they would face side by side.
Camden grew quiet, his hand closing around hers, thumb tracing slow circles over her knuckles. “These weeks since we wed have been the happiest of my life,” he said, voice low and earnest. “I knew I wanted to stand beside you. I didn’t know how extraordinary it would feel to call you my wife.”
Emotion swelled in her chest, tears brightening her eyes as she squeezed his hand. “I never imagined love could be like this—so full of laughter, of peace, of knowing I am exactly where I belong.”
He brushed a stray curl from her cheek, his touch lingering. “As am I.”
Their lips met in a firm, lingering kiss, one that carried the quiet fire of months of unspoken devotion.
Eleanor felt the soft pressure of his mouth, sure and gentle, as if he was sealing every vow they’d made in silence.
The taste of him was familiar yet thrilling, sending a ripple of heat across her skin.
She sensed the faint catch of his breath, the way his hands tightened ever so slightly at her waist, anchoring her to him.
Time seemed to still around them, the distant sounds of the academy falling away until there was only the hush of their shared heartbeat, the warm press of his lips, and the unspoken certainty that they belonged to each other completely.
When they parted, Camden wrapped his arms around her, drawing her against his chest. Eleanor let herself melt into him, her head resting over his heart, feeling the steady, reassuring beat beneath her cheek.
A shiver of delight coursed through her as his hands settled at her waist, holding her as if he would never let go.
In his embrace, the world felt aligned—each breath, each heartbeat perfectly matched.
She closed her eyes, savoring the sense of belonging so complete it sent tingles racing across her skin.
“I love you,” she whispered, voice trembling with joy.
“And I you,” he murmured, his lips brushing hers once more.
“Now and for every day we are given.” He drew her fully into his arms, the warmth of his embrace banishing every lingering shadow.
She pressed her cheek against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, a perfect counterpoint to her own.
In that quiet, they stood wrapped in the rustle of leaves and the faint, carefree laughter drifting from the distant lawns.
Whatever trials the world might send, they would meet them hand in hand—steadfast partners, hearts entwined, and certain of a love strong enough to weather every storm and light their path for all the days to come.