Page 117 of Duke of Bronze
He paused, his voice softer now. "You."
Anna gave a broken little laugh through her tears. "Well, you are not the only coward in this garden," she said, dabbing at her cheeks with trembling fingers. "Ididwant my independence, you are right. And you honored that. But I also wanted—more. I just never had the courage to ask."
He reached for her hands and held them in his. She did not pull away.
"I daresay we have both been fools," she said with a watery smile.
"Then let us be fools together," he murmured.
She laughed, a real laugh now, light and warm and wholly unburdened.
"Now do shut up and kiss me again," she said, tilting her face up to his. "Because I do love you, Colin. More than I ever thought myself capable of."
And at that, a grin broke across his face—wide and boyish and radiant.
He kissed her again, and this time, it was not desperate, not stolen, not riddled with doubt.
It was everything.
And in his arms, Anna finally felt whole.
EPILOGUE
Anna stood before a tall gilt mirror, her breath catching softly as she beheld the vision staring back at her. Swathed in layers of ivory silk and delicate lace, she looked every inch the bride, though her heart fluttered with a medley of nerves and wonder.
"Oh, no princess in any land could hold a candle to you this day," Aunt Petunia declared, dabbing at her eyes with a lacy handkerchief already sodden from prior use.
"She's right," Elizabeth chimed in, her voice catching as she smiled.
"Absolutely ravishing," Peggy added, clasping her hands before her.
Anna gave a slow twirl, the voluminous skirts of her gown billowing slightly with the movement. "I still maintain that the skirts are rather excessive, Auntie," she said.
Petunia gasped in mock offense. "Excessive? They are magnificently Parisian! Entirelyen vogue, if I may say so. And might I remind you, my dear niece, that you are already sewn and strapped into it? There is no turning back now."
"There's always the simpler gown we kept as a contingency," Sebastian remarked from the doorway, his voice warm with amusement. He sent a knowing wink in Anna's direction, which elicited a chorus of giggles from her cousins.
"Do not even think about it, Sebastian Sutton! Not a word more," Petunia cried, flapping her handkerchief in mock distress as the room erupted in laughter.
Later that morning, Anna was wed in a splendid ceremony at one of Copperton's country estates just beyond the city. The chapel had been adorned with roses in every shade of blush and cream, and the air rang with the jubilant harmony of violins and well-wishers.
As Anna stepped out on the arm of her new husband, the sun casting a gentle glow upon them, a roar of applause and cheers met them.
She smiled, radiant and near breathless, only for her stride to falter.
Her train—her lavish, baroque-inspired, gloriously impractical train—was refusing to move.
She looked over her shoulder and let out a laugh.
Seated squarely atop the trailing folds of her gown, as if he had every right to such luxury, was Titan.
"Oh, Titan," she murmured.
Colin blinked, then burst out laughing. "What in heaven's name is the thimble doing here? Was he not placed in the carriage?"
"You are still calling him a thimble?" she said with mock indignation, though her eyes danced.
"I stand by it. He's the size of one."
