“I told Mother she is going to get her wish, after all,” Julian said to Cass, lifting her up from the sofa, too, and pulling her against him, his arms around her waist.
“What wish is that?” Cass asked, smiling.
“To see me married in a spring wedding,” he replied with a smile.
“And none of these simple morning ceremonies attended by a few close friends. It’s to be a grand affair, apparently.”
“We can wait,” Cass said.
“No we can’t,” Julian responded. “We’ll be married as soon as the six-month mourning period has passed. Life is precious and fleeting. It’s a lesson I’ve learned well this year.”
“I’ll marry you whenever you’d like,” Cass replied with a laugh.
“I must say, it’ll be a chore to keep my hands off you until then, my love,” Julian whispered in her ear.
She leaned up and whispered back. “Yes, well. I only hope the next little earl doesn’t come any earlier than nine months after the wedding.”
He grinned at her.
“How is your mother?” Cass asked. The countess had retired to her bedchamber, as had Daphne.
“As well as can be expected,” Julian replied. “I know planning the wedding will make her much happier. Daphne, too.”
“Poor Daphne’s been inconsolable,” Cass replied.
“She loved Donald. She insisted on being taken to see Rafe. He’s doing better but it will be quite a while before he’s fully recovered.”
“I look forward to meeting him,” Cass replied.
Lucy came over and hugged Cass. “I’m so glad you’ve forgiven me, dear.”
“Did I have any choice?” Cass said with a laugh, hugging her friend back. “Besides, you did redeem yourself after all.”
“Yes, by delivering that letter.”
“What letter?” Jane asked from her seat on the sofa.
“The letter I wrote when I thought Julian was dying,” Cass replied. “The letter that told him how much I loved him.”
“I made her write it, you know,” Lucy said. “I’m exceedingly proud of myself.”
“You should be proud of yourself,” Julian added. “And I am exceedingly grateful. It did make a difference.”
“I’m just so glad everything worked out for you and Captain Swift, I mean, Lord Swifdon,” Jane said to Cass.
“Are you crying, Jane?” Cass asked.
“I don’t cry.” She raised her book to hide her face.
“Your eyes are suspiciously moist.”
“Shut up,” said Jane from behind the book.
Lucy smiled and turned her attention back to Cass. “I never meant to hurt you.”
Cass nodded. “I know, and I shouldn’t have put all the blame on you. It was my fault, too.”
“No. It was my fault,” Lucy insisted. “I’m the one who came up with that preposterous scheme.”
