With a conspiratorial grin, she nodded. "Lead the way, my love."
Hand in hand, they slipped away from the party, the sounds of laughter and music fading as they ventured deeper into the garden. They traversed a narrow path lined with fragrant roses, their petals casting delicate shadows in the late afternoon sun.
"I can scarcely believe it," Selina murmured. "How swiftly disdain has turned to devotion."
His lips quirked into that roguish smirk that never failed to quicken her pulse. "My darling, I assure you, my devotion was there from the start. It merely took on a different guise."
Selina arched an eyebrow, a playful challenge in her voice. "Oh? And what guise was that, pray tell?"
"Why, the guise of a man desperately trying to deny his attraction to a woman he believed was his enemy," James replied, tugging her closer. His voice dropped to a husky caress. "A futile endeavor, as it turns out."
A delicious shiver raced down Selina's spine. "James Barton, are you attempting to seduce me?"
"Always," he growled, before capturing her lips in a searing kiss.
Selina melted into his embrace, her fingers tangling in his dark hair as she returned his kiss with equal fervor. A hungry press of lips, followed by a slow slide of their tongues. She moaned, her hands sliding up his chest to rest on his broad shoulders.
When they finally parted, both slightly breathless, she gazed up at him with adoration. "I fear I shall never grow weary of that," she murmured, a coy smile playing at her lips.
He chuckled, his gaze alight with joy. "Then I shall endeavor to kiss you at every opportunity."
"I love you, James Barton, Lord Blackwood," she murmured, tilting her face up to his.
"And I love you, Selina Whitcomb, soon-to-be Lady Blackwood," he replied, before capturing her lips in a deep-soul consuming kiss that spoke of passion, devotion, and the promise of forever.
They strolled back toward the gathering, basking in the warm glow of their shared happiness, their cheeks flushed and eyes bright.
"There you are!" Charlotte's cheerful voice rangout as they approached. "We were beginning to wonder if you had eloped."
Selina laughed, embracing her dear friend. "And deprive you of the spectacle of our wedding? Never."
Charlotte's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Speaking of spectacles, I do hope you will allow me to assist with the planning. I have the most delightful ideas for your trousseau."
"Heaven help me," Selina groaned good-naturedly. "I shudder to think what scandalous creations you have in mind."
"Only the finest silks and laces befitting a lady of your station," Charlotte replied innocently.
"Though perhaps cut a trifle lower than is strictly proper," Beatrice added.
James cleared his throat, a roguish glint in his eye. "I, for one, wholeheartedly approve of Miss Beatrice’s suggestion."
Selina felt her cheeks warm. "You would, you incorrigible rake."
"Your rake," James reminded her, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Only yours.”
Lord Rockingham raised his glass in a toast, his usually stoic demeanor softened by a rare smile. "To Selina and James," he intoned. "May your love be as enduring as it is passionate."
"Here, here!" The assembled guests chorused, glasses clinking merrily.
Mr. Winters approached, clapping James on the shoulder. "I must say, old boy, you have done well for yourself. Though how you managed to win over our dear countess is beyond me."
"I shall no doubt spend the rest of my days wondering the same," James replied, his gaze never leaving Selina's face. "I count myself the luckiest of men."
Selina's heart swelled with emotion. "And I am the luckiest of women," she said softly.
As the evening wore on, Selina found herself swept up in a whirlwind of congratulations and well-wishes. Yet through it all, her awareness of James never wavered. His steady presence at her side, the warmth of his hand on the small of her back, the tender glances they shared—all served as anchors in the sea of society.
Later, as the party wore on, Selina found a moment of respite near the refreshment table. She watched as James conversed animatedly with a group of gentlemen, his charisma on full display.
