They all laughed.
Her father offered his arm. “Ready?”
Amelia nodded, and together, they left the room.
The ceremony was held in the chapel on the Anderton estate, its stone walls softened by arrangements of white roses and trailing ivy. Sunlight poured through stained glass windows, scattering color across the aisle like fragments of a dream.
Guests stood as Amelia entered. She did not look at them for long. Her focus remained fixed on Gabriel.
He stood at the altar in a dark tailored coat, expression composed but eyes unmistakably alive with something far less controlled. When their gazes met, something in her chest settled instantly, as if it had been waiting for him all along.
The vicar cleared his throat gently.
“Dearly beloved,” he began, voice echoing softly through the chapel, “we are gathered here today to witness the joining of this man and this woman in holy matrimony.”
Amelia barely heard the rest of the words at first. The world narrowed to the space between her and Gabriel.
“To have and to hold,” the vicar continued, “from this day forward…”
Gabriel’s gaze did not leave her face.
“To love and to cherish, till death do them part.”
When it came time for the vows, Gabriel spoke first.
“I, Gabriel Warring, Duke of Anderton,” he said clearly, “take you, Amelia Shirley, to be my wife. To stand beside you in all things. To protect you but never to confine you. To trust you as you trust me, and to choose you, every day of my life.”
Amelia’s breath caught quietly.
The vicar turned to her. “And do you, Amelia Shirley, take this man to be your lawful wedded husband?”
She met Gabriel’s eyes fully then.
“I do,” she said, voice steady now. “I take you to be my husband. To walk beside you, to challenge you when needed, and to stay when it would be easier to leave.”
A faint smile touched Gabriel’s mouth, though his eyes softened in a way that made her heart ache in the best possible way.
“By the power vested in me,” the vicar said warmly, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
A pause. Then, with gentle certainty, “You may kiss the bride.”
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. Then Gabriel stepped forward, careful as though the moment itself might break if rushed.
His hand lifted to her cheek. Amelia leaned into him without hesitation. The kiss was not hurried. It was steady, deliberate, and filled with love. She felt warmth flood through her. Joy settled into her heart.
When they parted, Amelia found herself smiling before she even realized she was.
Gabriel’s forehead rested briefly against hers.
“You are mine now,” he murmured, just for her.
She huffed a quiet laugh. “And you are stuck with me.”
“I consider myself fortunate.”
As they stepped forward as husband and wife, Amelia realized something simple and absolute.
She was no longer running away from anything. She was moving toward her future.
