With a cry, she hurled herself into his arms, knocking the branches from his arms. He stumbled but quickly caught himself and steadied them.
“Your wound,” he scolded gruffly, struggling to his feet. “Your—”
She leaned up and kissed him into silence. “Yes,” she breathed, tears blurring her eyes. “Yes, I will marry you. Again.”
He grunted. “I’ve not finished yet,” he muttered, and her lips twitched. “I have it planned, Penelope.”
Her heart swelled with love, and she smoothed her features. “Of course, please carry on.”
With a shaking hand, Ryker yanked a rumpled sheet from his jacket and held it out. Penelope alternated her gaze between his face and the single page.
Lowering the bouquet to her side, she accepted the proffered note. She trailed her fingertips over the three words written there. “My sister took on the role of instructing me how to read,” he said in hushed tones. “I’m still rot with words, Penelope,” he said harshly. “I always will be. I will never compose a sonnet or a poem. Not because you do not deserve one, for you do, but because I’ll never be a master with words.” A tear slithered down her cheek. Another one trailed behind it. “But I love you,” he said hoarsely. “I want to be everything you ever wanted, even though I know I cannot, and so I humbly offer myself. As I am. A man trying to be . . .”
A little sob ripped from Penelope’s throat as she climbed atop his lap. “Stop,” she pleaded, pressing her fingertips to his lips. “Stop. I do not want you to change.”
“You deserve a prince.”
“When I was a girl, I imagined Prince Charming on his noble steed coming to save me. I do not want you to be the man I imagined for myself when I was a girl who knew nothing about what truly mattered.” She took his face between her hands. “You are a man of strength, a man of great honor and courage, and that is the man I love with a woman’s heart.” Penelope pressed her brow to his. “I do not want you to change. I want you to be the same man who fished me out from under a bench. I just want him to love me, too.”
“I do,” he rasped, cupping her nape, and meeting her gaze. “I only want you. Forever. At my side. And I want a home with you and a family filled with daughters who have your spirit and boys who have your courage.” Another tear trickled down her cheek. “And I’ll make my home wherever you are.” He looked over her shoulder, and the floorboards groaned, indicating Jonathan had moved.
“Finish your job,” Ryker demanded gruffly, and turning Penelope over to the other man, Ryker made his way belowstairs.
She stared after him, her heart filled with so much love it buoyed her.
“Are you ready?” Jonathan urged, his voice gruff.
With tears in her eyes, she managed a nod and allowed him to escort her the remaining length of the hall, and down the stairs. They reached the bottom, and her knees went weak. Jonathan shot a hand around her shoulders to anchor her.
“Oh my goodness,” she breathed and stared at the club empty of patrons. In their place was the entire Tidemore kin, seated amongst Ryker’s family, laughing and chatting. At the end of a makeshift aisle, Ryker stood alongside Calum, speaking. The vicar flipped through pages of his book.
“I never thought any man could be good enough for you,” Jonathan said quietly at her side. “And I still don’t. But Ryker is as close as there can ever be to a man I feel will be deserving of you.”
Poppy, engrossed in a discussion with Adair, said something just then that raised a blush on the street-hardened man’s cheeks.
“Aunt Penny!” Rose squealed, bringing everyone’s attention toward Penelope and Jonathan.
A small orchestra assembled in the corner of the room proceeded to play.
The assembled guests all stood as one. Her family joined with Ryker’s, united as one, and another sheen blurred her eyes as she took her first step down the pink-petal-strewn aisle toward a grinning Ryker . . . and the rest of their future.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to Lauren Plude, for being there from the very start when Penny and Ryker were just a thought, and for all your guidance to their happily-ever-after!
For Louisa Cornell—you have been a friend who has cheered me on through not only my journey as an author, but also the challenges life has thrown at me . . . and the ultimate triumphs. I’m so honored to call you friend, and grateful that you are there to read my stories and willing to chat plot and heroes and heroines with me.
About the Author
Photo © 2016 Kimberly Rocha
USA Today bestselling author Christi Caldwell blames Julie Garwood and Judith McNaught. After all, they were the ones who lured her into the world of historical romance. It was only when Christi was sitting in her graduate school apartment at the University of Connecticut that she began writing her own tales of love. While she believes even the most perfect heroes and heroines have imperfections, she rather enjoys torturing them—before the couple earns their well-deserved happily-ever-after.
Christi makes her home in southern Connecticut, where she spends her time writing, chasing after her courageous son, and caring for her twin princesses-in-training. For the latest information about Christi’s releases, future books, and free bonus material, you can sign up for her newsletter at www.christicaldwell.com.
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