“I love you.” So damn much. He couldn’t contain the words.
“As Stone Spencer?”
He knew what she needed. “Yes.”
“Does this mean you’re going to have to marry me again?”
“At St. George’s on Hanover Square.” How many times had he overheard her discussing her dream wedding with Lady Felicity? “Guests overflowing outside. Your mother and sister in the front row. My parents across the aisle. Your brother can give you away properly and neither of us will be bosky this time.”
“You’ll need a valet to deck you out in your wedding finery.” Her fingertip traced his mouth.
“I think Creighton might be able to handle that.” He chuckled. And then, “I’ll wear whatever you want me to.” He’d give her anything.
But then she grew serious. “I don’t need it, you know. I only need you.” Tears shone in those eyes he would never tire of staring into. “I love you.”
“Could you plan this wedding another time?” Westerley complained.
Stone’s throat thickened with emotion, and he didn’t even attempt to answer her brother this time.
Shelovedhim.
She wantedhimand onlyhim.
Stunned at his good fortune, he sat back and helped her off the ground.
“I’m a mess,” she quipped, studying her bare feet and torn dressing gown.
“You are.” Stone brushed the dirt off her skirt. “But you’re my mess.”
Chapter 29
Pesky Details
Having secured the duke and his men with the ropes from inside one of Culpepper’s carriages, preventing any chance of their escape, Stone and Westerley sat on the edge of the road reclining against a large oak, waiting for Chase and their wives’ entourage to catch up to them.
Completely done in, Tabetha lay on a blanket, her head resting on Stone’s lap, sleeping surprisingly peacefully. They’d offered to tie the men to a tree so she and her maid could sleep in the carriage, but she’d declared she never wanted to set foot in that foul-smelling vehicle again.
“I suppose one of us could ride back to meet up with Chase and the ladies,” Stone suggested. “Seeing as things are well under control here.”
“I supposeone of uscould,” Westerley responded without enthusiasm. “I, for one, am content to wait here with my sister.”
Stone shifted his gaze to his old friend. “Who also happens to be my wife,” he reminded him.
Westerley bent his knees up, dangling his hands between them thoughtfully. “That wasn’t your certificate then? Culpepper was lying?”
Damn and blast. Stone exhaled in disgust. “No. They lifted it from my jacket when I took it off in the taproom.”
“Then you and my sister are not, in fact, legally married, and the two of you are going to have to wait to be… alone until after that elaborate wedding you just promised her.”
Stone hadn’t considered this.
“You’ll need to have banns read. My mother’s going to want to send out hundreds of invitations. Likely, she’ll plan a prewedding ball…”
Stone rubbed the back of his neck. Banns? That meant waiting three weeks. “Rather like closing the barn doors after the horses are out, don’t you think? I was thinking more along the lines of a special license.”
“Ha!” Westerley shot him a look. “Not likely. Accept it, Spencer, you have at least three weeks of socializing and kowtowing before our mothers allow you to settle into wedded bliss.”
Stone tore the long stem of grass he’d been holding in half. “Unless I choose to be difficult.”
