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CHAPTER THREE

Margaret

Now we stood in the porch of the church in the village of Altheney Greatorex.

We choose a September day for the event. Sun and cool autumn breezes graced the early afternoon. The Earl had kindly sent a conveyance all the way to Barton to fetch my mother, who was overjoyed to join us.

Marianne and her husband could not attend, but Elinor and Edward arrived with mother. The vicar allowed Elinor’s husband to conduct the ceremony. The Earl graciously gave me away. Lawrence Conrad served as best man.

“Are you happy, dearest?” Ralph asked as villagers streamed out of the church, wishing us well.

“Oh, yes. I could not be happier than I am with you by my side. But are you content with our circumstances? Do you still long for your carefree bachelor days in London, acting the man about town?”

“No. Those days are in the past. You are my world and I would give all for you.”

The Earl joined us, clapping Ralph on the back and kissing my cheek. “Well, Margaret, welcome to the family.” He smiled and turned to my dear husband. “And you, rogue, are you sorry to have reformed?”

“Not a bit,” Ralph exclaimed. “These days I am the complete country gentleman, with a house, wife, dogs, and all the accoutrements. I hope you are satisfied with my undertakings as your estate agent.”

“I always knew you had the makings but getting you to see your own potential was hard work. Merrivale tipped the balance, and that, combined with your growing feelings for Margaret, completed the transformation.”

A note of triumph in my voice, I said, “You have overturned the Samuel Richardson adage, my dear. I believe, in your case, a reformed rake makes the best husband indeed.”

“And I promise to prove it to you every day for the rest of our lives.” Then he kissed me and we celebrated with our wedding breakfast, surrounded by a loving family.