The panic loosened its grip slightly. Henry, who had taken to calling him “Papa” with such casual certainty that it undid Tobias every time. Henry, who would officially become his son today. His family.
“Tell him I shall be down momentarily.”
Morrison withdrew, and Tobias took one final look in the mirror. The man staring back bore little resemblance to the careless rake who’d fled Redmond Park all those months ago. This version carried purpose. Responsibility. Love that had transformed him into someone he barely recognized—someone better than he’d thought himself capable of becoming.
“Ready?” Daniel asked quietly.
Tobias straightened his shoulders. Drew a breath that finally seemed to reach his lungs properly. “Ready.”
The church was a small affair—intimate rather than grand, just as Amelia had requested. Morning light streamed through the stained glass windows, painting the stone floor with jewelled patterns of crimson and gold, and sapphire blue. The scent of roses hung heavy in the air, mixed with candle wax and old woodand something indefinable that churches seemed to possess regardless of denomination.
Tobias stood at the altar beside the vicar, acutely aware of every eye trained upon him. Lady Clara sat in the front pew, dabbing at tears she made no effort to conceal. Daniel stood at his shoulder, solid and steady. And Henry—beloved, impossible Henry—sat beside Clara, swinging his small legs and investigating his shoes with determined concentration.
The organ music swelled.
Tobias’s heart stopped.
Then she appeared.
Amelia stood framed in the doorway, backlit by the autumn sunshine, which transformed her into something ethereal. Her gown was cream silk rather than white—a concession to her status as a widow that somehow made her seem more radiant rather than less. The fabric caught the light with every breath, every slight movement. Her golden-brown hair had been swept up in elaborate curls that left her neck exposed, and she wore the pearl necklace he’d given her the night before with his grandmother’s ring.
But it was her face that utterly destroyed him.
She was smiling. Not the careful, composed expression she showed society. Not the polite mask she’d worn during her firstmarriage. This smile was pure joy—tremulous and radiant and absolutely luminous.
Their eyes met across the length of the church.
Everything else faded to insignificance.
She began walking toward him, and Tobias forgot how to breathe. Forgot the scandalized whispers that had followed their engagement announcement. Forgot every moment of doubt or fear or guilt that had plagued him. There was only this: Amelia, walking toward him of her own free will, choosing him with every step.
She reached the altar far too quickly and somehow not nearly fast enough.
“How do you do,” she whispered, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
“How do you do?,” he managed, his voice rough with emotion that refused all attempts at containment.
The vicar cleared his throat. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today...”
The words washed over Tobias like distant music. He heard them, registered their import, but could focus on nothing beyond Amelia’s hand in his. Her fingers trembled slightly—or perhaps that was his own hands shaking. Her thumb brushedacross his knuckles in a gesture so small, so tender, it threatened to undo him entirely.
“...do you, Tobias William Grant, take this woman...”
“I do.” The words emerged fierce. Absolute. There had never been anything he meant more.
Amelia’s breath caught audibly.
“And do you, Amelia Catherine Grant, take this man...”
“I do.” Her voice was steady despite the tears now streaming freely down her cheeks. “I absolutely do.”
A ripple of emotion moved through the assembled guests. Tobias heard Clara’s muffled sob, heard Henry’s piping voice asking what was happening, heard the vicar continue speaking. But none of it truly registered.
Because Amelia was looking at him with such love, such absolute certainty, that every defence he’d ever constructed simply ceased to exist.
“I now pronounce you man and wife.” The vicar’s smile was genuine, warm. “You may kiss your bride, my lord.”
Tobias didn’t need to be told twice.
