How to Catch a Duke in Ten Days by Violet Hamers
Epilogue
“Oh, don’t they look happy?” Rose said with a giggle of delight.
“Indeed, they do,” Hermione said with an equally bright smile. She and Rose were standing by the church gate, watching on as Officer Stenham and the brand-new Phoebe Stenham stepped out of the church door, talking with their guests. “It’s nice to want to cry with happiness for a change,” Hermione said with a laugh as she brushed a tear from her eyes.
“I know exactly what you mean!” Rose said, dabbing her own eyes with a handkerchief.
Hermione was struggling to take her eyes off her sister. The day after Cordelia had been arrested and their father had gone into exile, Phoebe had felt lost, wandering the garden from the house with no idea what to do about her future. At the time, Hermione had watched from a window with Antony at her side, about to go out and attempt to comfort her sister when Antony had bid her to give Phoebe just a few more minutes.
From their place in the window, they had watched as Officer Stenham approached Phoebe and clearly asked for her hand in marriage. Since that moment, a smile had rarely been far from Phoebe’s face when she was in public. That was a few weeks ago now.
More than once had Phoebe and Hermione slipped off to a chamber together to dwell a little on Cordelia and their father and bemoan their mother’s murder, but they were determined not to let the actions of the past harm their happiness of the future.
“It is good to see her so happy,” Hermione said with a sigh.
“I am just pleased to see all my children so happy,” Rose said as she looped her arm through Hermione’s. “And though I can hardly be delighted about the reasons your aunt wrote to me to ask to stay, I cannot tell you how thrilled I am my son met you, Hermione.”
“You are too kind to me,” Hermione said, patting Rose’s hand.
“If you will excuse me, I think I am going to head home and make sure the wedding breakfast is prepared.”
“I can come too?” Hermione offered.
“Stay a little longer dear,” Rose said with a kindly smile. “I’ll see you soon.” As Rose wandered out of the churchyard with a few friends beside her and her lady’s maid, Hermione turned her focus back to her sister.
Phoebe could not stop chatting to those around her, utterly delighted. Hermione knew all she needed to know about the connection between the couple from the way Officer Stenham kept lifting Phoebe’s hand to kiss the back of it.
“He loves her dearly,” she whispered as she leaned on the churchyard wall.
“That he does.” A familiar voice made Hermione turn her head away to see Antony was approaching her. He had a smile on his face that faltered when he saw her expression. “Have you been crying again?”
“Happy tears!” she said, blinking them away for good now. “Look at them,” she pointed back to the happy couple.
“I know,” he put upon a dramatic sigh and leaned on the wall beside her, bumping her arm with his. The mere touch reminded her of what she had shared with Antony the morning after her father had fled. The whole night, she and Antony had slept in each other’s arms, unable to let go of one another. When morning came around, they had made love, though it had been much gentler that time, with whispered words of love and promises to keep one another safe. Whenever he touched her now, he reminded her of that night.
“Why are you sighing so?” she asked.
“I was just thinking how much happier they look than we did on our wedding day,” Antony pointed out. The words brought a second sigh, only this time it came from Hermione.
“Well, you weren’t very pleased, were you? Even though I loved you.”
“You hadn’t at that point told me you loved me, need I remind you?” he said, bumping her arm with his. The touch made excitement coil in her stomach.
“I was vowing in church to love you forever; didn’t that count for something?”
“I was barely paying attention in church, in truth.” He gestured toward the church.
“Barely paying attention!?” Hermione stepped off the wall and turned to face him front on. “I should be offended. I meant every vow I said.”
“What about the obey one?” he said, with one raised eyebrow, reminding her of their first ever argument.
“Well, I meant every vow but one,” she said with a smile. “You don’t really expect me to obey you, do you?”
“From the night we met, I knew you wouldn’t,” he said with a sudden laugh. “Yet… there is something that bothers me here.”
“What is that?” He reached forward and took her hands, bringing her forward then spinning her round, until her back was pressed against his front, and he could wrap his arms around her.
“Look at them,” he said softly, pointing toward where Officer Stenham and Phoebe looked so happy as they chatted with their friends in the churchyard outside the church door. “I didn’t give you that, and I should have done.”
“You do not owe me anything,” Hermione said with feeling.
“Well, I certainly feel like I owe us something. So… come with me.” He stepped off the church wall, pulling her forward.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” Hermione was towed forward, around the throng that had gathered to give Phoebe and Officer Stenham well wishes, then up through the church door.
“Why are we in here?” Hermione asked. Antony didn’t answer her at first, he simply pulled her all the way down the aisle, until they were standing by the altar.
“Now, where were we standing?” he asked with a nonchalant tone.
“You’re up to something, and I cannot tell what it is,” she said. “Where were we standing when?”
“When we were last here?” he said with a mischievous smirk. “I think I was here,” he said, jumping up a step to be in front of the altar, “and you were here.” He drew her up to stand beside him.
“You are confusing me all the more now,” she said slowly, watching as his smile grew wider.
“I was thinking that the last time we did this, I didn’t mean the words as I should have meant them. For one thing, I was too much in shock really to take it in, then after that I spent a few days thinking you had deceived me.”
“So… not the greatest start to a marriage?” Hermione teased.
“You could say that,” Antony agreed with a nod. “That being said, let’s do it again.”
“What do you mean?” She didn’t have chance to ask any more as Antony took hold of her hand.
“Now, let’s see if I can remember how this goes,” he said, screwing up his face in thought. “I, Antony Stenham, take thee, Hermione Rogers, to be my wedded wife. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to…” he paused, scrunching up his nose a little more.
“Have you actually forgotten the vows?” Hermione said with a laugh.
“Well, I’ve only had to say them once before, haven’t I?” he said, laughing too. “Can you remember the next bit?”
“Arguably it is the most important. To love and to cherish,” she said, stepping an inch toward him.
“Ah, yes,” he said, taking both of her hands in his and drawing her nearer. “To love and to cherish,” he deepened his voice with the words. “Until death us do part. And?”
“And what?” she said, tilting her head up toward him.
“This is the part where you say your vows back to me.”
“Oh, ordering me around already, are you?” she said in defiance, pulling another snicker from him that he was trying to stifle.
“I am trying to be serious here,” he said, though his smile was still present.
“Seriousness doesn’t suit you.”
“Then let’s make this quick. And your vows?”
“Oh, very well. I suppose I could follow the order this one time,” she teased him as she took a final step toward him. Now, her chest was pressed against his as she rested on him. It made him tilt his head down toward her, clearly preparing for a kiss. “I, Hermione Rogers, take thee, Antony Stenham, to be my wedded husband. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish and…” she paused, clamping her lips together.
“Ah, you are going to take out the obey order, are you?” he teased.
“Well, we both know I’m not going to keep to that one anyway,” she laughed.
“Very true,” he nodded, continue.
“To love and to cherish,” she repeated the last vow. “Until death us do part.” She lifted up on her toes, trying to kiss him, though he resisted, staying back from her little. “Was there anything else?”
“I mean the vows, Hermione,” he whispered. “I know our courtship has hardly been smooth sailing.”
“Choppy waters indeed,” she agreed with a nod.
“But I mean them,” he said softly.
“As do I.” She leaned up toward him again. “Are you going to kiss me or not?”
“I was thinking of teasing you for a little longer–”
“Antony!”
“As you wish,” he laughed before leaning down and kissing her softly on the lips.
It was a gentle touch, reminding her of the way they had made love so tenderly that time. Now that was well over four weeks ago. Since then, they had had a couple of weeks grace when Officer Stenham and Phoebe courted, then the banns were read for three weeks. Time had passed rather quickly to Hermione’s mind, reminding her that she had something to tell Antony.
“What do you say to heading home rather fast?” he said with a deep whisper.
“What is the rush?” she asked. “Oh!” her startled gasp came as he moved his lips down to her neck.
“Well, what I want to do next I am fairly certain I cannot do in church, as much as I am tempted,” he whispered in her ear.
“Very well,” she said with a laugh. “Then we best be quick. Our siblings’ wedding breakfast starts soon, and Phoebe will not forgive me if we are late.”
“Then quick it is,” he said with a mischievous smile as he stood straight and jumped down away from the altar, pulling her quickly behind him. She laughed at how fast he walked, struggling to keep up with him.
As they stepped outside, they found there was still a crowd of guests around Officer Stenham and Phoebe.
“Where are you two off to?” Officer Stenham called, making Hermione and Antony hesitate in the gateway of the churchyard.
“We…erm…” Antony was struggling to come up with an excuse.
“We’re going to help your mother prepare the breakfast. See you soon,” Hermione said quickly then jabbed Antony in his side with an elbow, urging him to get a move on.
“Quick thinking,” he whispered to her as they hurried off, hand in hand down the road.
“Now all we have to do is avoid actually getting involved with the preparations!”
* * *
Antony was careful as they reached the house, being so cautious that they even walked in through the garden entrance rather that the front door. On the main staircase, the two of them were nearly caught, but fortunately Hermione managed to drag Antony up to the landing in time, just before his mother turned around at the bottom of the stairs to see them.
Struggling to stifle his laughter, Antony took over the lead and pulled Hermione all the way to his chamber. Once inside, he locked the door firmly and reached for her dress.
“Oh!” she exclaimed in surprise. “You have ripped one dress already; do you intend to rip another?”
“Quite frankly, I’ll buy you as many dresses as you need from now on. Passion can run away with me a little at times.” He winked at her, loving it as she giggled and reached for his jacket, pushing it eagerly off his shoulders.
They were both undressed in what felt like seconds. Her gown was on the floor, his cravat and jacket were too. The waistcoat ended up flung over the back of a chair, her corset rolled away somewhere under an ottoman, and he was fairly certain he tossed her shift off so high that it ended up flung around the chandelier candelabra that hung from the ceiling.
Once they were bare, he took her to bed, not bothering to pull back the covers but lying over the top. She kissed him back with equal ferocity and passion, making his movements full of need as he pulled at her body, trying to get closer to her, caress her, love her.
“Wait, wait…” she said, just as he had lined himself up with her entrance.
“You want me to wait now?” he asked, straining his body back. The sweat was already beading down the center of his back, and his body was flushed with excitement. Looking down at Hermione who had her legs around his hips, he could see the same blush of heat across her skin, travelling up her chest and across her cheeks. “Is something wrong?” he asked with a note of panic.
“Nothing is wrong at all,” she said, reaching up to him. He lowered himself down, until he had his weight resting on his elbows either side of her head, with the two of them so close that it would be easy to kiss her. “I wanted to tell you something.”
“Now?” he asked with a smirk. “I think we’d both rather be doing something than talking.” She giggled and tapped him on the shoulder in reprimand. “Go on,” he urged.
“I think there is a chance that…”
“That…?” he encouraged her on.
“I could be pregnant.”
“What?” he said, jumping up a little, so that he was no longer leaning on his forearms but on the palms of his hands. “You’re certain?”
“No, but let’s just say it is quite likely. So, if you–”
He cut her off from saying anymore with a kiss. An image had flashed into his mind, of a young child, boy or girl, with his brown hair and her green eyes. The leap that had coupled the image in his stomach brought him a happiness he had not known was possible before.
“I love you,” he said softly as he parted from her.
“I take it you were happy at my news?”
“Do you even need ask?” he said with a laugh. “Now can I make love to you?”
“Yes!”
The End?