The room was hushed, and the moment whispered of new beginnings, promises yet to come.
William smiled fully, an expression on his face I had never seen before. It was not teasing, or guarded, or determined, or curious. It was not roguish, or thoughtful, or confused, or lost. It was the look of being found, and it was the softest happiness I had ever seen. For once, I knew exactly what he was thinking.
Bracing one hand against the glass of the window, he leaned in. Then he bent his head, he closed his eyes, and his lips brushed mine in the softest touch.
And against my lips, he whispered, “I love you.”
For half a second, complete and explicit joy coursed through me. But then William deepened his kiss and pressed me back against the window, rushing me away on another adventure—one I’d dreamed of from the moment he’d pulled me out of that pond and vowed to save me from pirates. Only this adventure was different, because it filled me with warmth and gave me hope for the future.
It was different because it was real.
Fingers splayed against the glass next to my head, his other hand tangled in my hair, moving my head whatever way he pleased. I could feel his heartbeat through his clothes, a beat that matched my own rapid pulse. A little thing like air was irrelevant next to William’s fiery lips sliding against mine, seeking, exploring, needing.
Then he broke away, trailing soft kisses along my jaw, until his mouth came to my ear. “Oh ‘Liza,” he murmured, his breath tickling my hair as his lips brushed my skin. “How I love you . . .” He nuzzled my neck with his nose, stealing the air from my lungs.
Ohhh.
My heart sighed in happiness.
But oh, he should not do that. Not when we weren’t even properly engaged. When I said as much to him, he laughed, burrowing deeper into my hair. “I told you you’d never want anyone else.”
With an offended cry, I shoved him away. He caught my wrist and tugged me with him. “You do not know how I have longed to do that,” he said with a smile. “Even before I knew I wanted it.”
A teasing grin crept onto my face. “Are you flirting with me, sir?”
“Of course.” Leaning forward, he backed me up against the window again. “And how would you flirt back?” He inched his lips closer in a teasing way.
“I have always known I wanted it,” I said softly, sincerely.
His eyebrows shot up. “Ah, now that line was rather good. The student has become the master.”
“Not so! It is only the truth.”
He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, heaving a pretend sigh. “Must I be forced to convince you?”
I laughed. “Oh no, William, don’t—!”
“Her talent was empty, the horrors obscene, when she gave me her praises from—er, one to fourteen—”
“Fourteen?” I cupped my mouth. “Is that the best you can do?”
“Shh—I’m doing this on the spot! It is not as easy as I make it look.” He cleared his throat, resuming his pondering expression. “. . . one to fourteen. But from horses, to poets, to a park in the square, she wooed me with words, with the dark of her hair.”
His voice grew quieter, less playful and more serious. “How silly she was, so completely absurd—yet within me a feeling awakened and stirred. It’s as wide as the heavens and nearly as deep. And this thing she awoke in me never shall sleep. And the stars will shine down, and our course they will chart—for they know she and I . . .” Intertwining my hand in his, he brought it slowly to brush my knuckles against his lips, stare unbreakable. “. . . are two beats of one heart.”
We shared one more adoring look before William again went in for a kiss. I put a hand on his chest, stopping him. “But first, you must come visit Mama.”
“Ah.” He straightened, his reluctance evident in the way his eyes stayed glued to my mouth.
“She is surely wondering what is keeping me.”
“Let us go and tell her, then. Tell her that not only was I keeping you just now, but that I am keeping you forever.”
I looked up into his green eyes, trusting. “Promise?”
He smiled. “I am no liar.”
Then, covering my hand in his own, he led me out of his house and back to Mama’s bedside, where we cried and laughed and cried some more. The hours slipped by, full of relived memories, children dashing off on adventures and Mama pressing them to her bosom. And though the hours were painful, they were happy, too, making me wonder how I’d ever succeeded in being miserable in the first place.
Happiness is said to be a fragile thing. They say it is a matter of circumstance, or a lack of hardship in someone’s life. Outwardly, it is equaled with wealth, or beauty, or talent. Some say it is elusive—others, unobtainable.
But I say it is not.
If it was a matter of circumstance, then how had Mama managed to keep smiling, all these months? If it was equaled with wealth or beauty, then how had it escaped William all these years? And if was unobtainable, then how could I be overflowing with it, in this moment?
They say happiness exists in others—in the amount of attention they give us, or recognition, or love.
But I say it does not.
It exists inside each one of us, if we have the courage to find it.
Epilogue
A wreath of white rosebuds crowned my head, stark against my dark hair which was curled and twisted into an intricate bun. My dress, a fine, silver gauze overlaying white muslin, swished when I walked, the scalloped lace and embroidered flowers shimmering underneath the golden rays piercing the parish windows.
The organ music started up, cueing the attendees to stand.
In the pews, Peter’s eyes shone with pride, and beside him Lily beamed, her arms full of a little bundle. Mama and Matthew sat in front of them, Mama openly crying, and Matthew trying to hide his tight, trembling lips.
It was a small, private affair, but I preferred it that way, and so did William. Everyone I cared about was in this room. And Mama was here, watching her dying wish come true.
Bouquets lined the aisle, disappearing from sight as I progressed down the long rug. At the end of it, raised on a dais next to the vicar, was William. He wasn’t grinning or watching me in adoration. He had the same look in his eye that he’d had when he challenged Allerton to a duel. Soft, but solemn. Like this was the highest honor he could ever be given, and he wasn’t going to waste it with smiles and empty promises.
The promises we made this day would be anything but empty.
When I ascended the steps and stood next to him at the altar, he didn’t turn back toward the vicar. He stayed staring at me—so I stared at him back, one corner of my lips turning up. When at last he returned my smile, his eyes glimmered, a raw emotion in them that was incomprehensibly deep. He gathered one of my hands and placed a tender kiss on my palm.
The vicar began the service.
In the lane, the horses tossed their heads, ready to carry us to William’s townhouse. Herbs and rushes scattered the church porch, well wishes for the new couple.
Peter threw half his rice in the air, pelting the other half against William while he tried to block the throws with his arm. “Don’t make me regret giving her to you,” Peter teased.
“Ow! All right!”
I giggled, dodging stray grains with my bouquet.
Lily snagged me out of the fray and pulled me into a hug, whispering in my ear, “So you’ve fallen in love at last. Is it everything you hoped for?”
Her hair rubbed against my cheek as I nodded, too overcome with happiness to manage any words.
She gave another squeeze and let me go, still beaming. “I am glad of it.” After a moment, her eyes flicked to William standing just behind me. “Now that we are practically brother and sister, I hope we may be friends. At last.”
William grinned. “Now where would be the fun in that?” He grunted as I elbowed him in the stomach.
Lily laughed. “You haven’t changed at all. Except, perhaps, in the ways that really matter.
” Her eyebrows lifted in an earnest expression. “It is good to see you happy.”
William’s smile turned small and genuine. He nodded to her, saying softly, “And you as well.”
I knew there was still much they needed to discuss to get over past hurts, but it was a start, and watching the interaction warmed my core. I turned down the line to Matthew. His head was held high, but he stared at the ground, unwilling to meet my eye.
“It is not forever, you know.”
He glanced up.
I hit his arm with my bouquet. “You shall see me tomorrow. And the day after that. And probably every day for the rest of our lives.”
He sighed. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, Eliza, you’re not doing a very good job of it.” So mumbled I could barely pick out the words, he added, “Once a day is not nearly enough.”
I threw my arms around him. Even though he held rigid, his fingers dug into my back, clutching me. “I love you too, Matthew.” My throat clogged up when I stepped away. He swiped at his eyes, erasing any evidence of tears.
It’s true I was only leaving for one night and I would see everyone tomorrow. But when I turned to find Mama’s winning smile fixed on me, something in me broke.
I wasn’t hers anymore. Though I didn’t regret that decision—and neither would she want me to—it still made me ache with longing. I already missed her.
More tears welled in my eyes as she took my face in her wrinkled hands. Her cheeks were wet, too. “I could not ask for a better future for you, Eliza, nor for a better husband. How well you chose.”
I clung to her thin frame, murmuring into her shoulder, “Thank you, Mama.”
She stroked my hair before releasing me. I looked back over my family, the people I loved so deeply, wondering how I’d managed to be so lucky. Then it was time to depart.
I took William’s hand and stepped into the carriage, accompanied by clapping and shouts of congratulations. We lurched forward, toward my future. As the figures outside the picketed church grew smaller, I felt them grow bigger in my heart, a lovely chapter in my life coming to a bittersweet close.
William draped his arm over my shoulder, pulling me tighter against him. I laid my head on his chest, content to keep the silence until we came to a stop in front of his town house. We’d discussed going on a bridal tour, but decided it was better to postpone it until after . . . Well, until Mama was no longer with us. We both wanted to spend her remaining time at her side.
Even if Mama were well, I found I didn’t really mind the decision. With William as my husband I knew adventure waited for me, regardless of where we went or what we did.
“When did you know?” I said quietly. “That you loved me?”
His hand smoothed my hair, fiddling with my rosebuds. “At the inn. You’ve always been in my heart, Eliza—I just never realized how much. Through the years, you silently took it over, bit by bit, piece by piece, without ever having to try. I don’t know when I began to love you, only that I did, and that I couldn’t stop. And when I finally woke up to it, I panicked and tried to take it back. But it was hopeless from the start. Because if I carved you out of my heart, I wouldn’t have any heart left.”
I melted even further into him, in love with his beautiful words, with the quietness of this moment. In love with him. And he wasn’t the only one whose heart had been taken over. William had wiggled his way into my life and refused to budge, stealing me over one tender touch at a time.
William helped me out of the carriage until we stood in front of his house. Our house. The thought sent a thrill down my spine. I smiled, ready to begin this new chapter of my life. This new adventure.
William turned to me and smirked. “Well darling, now we’re married—and I am forced to give you that happily ever after you’ve always dreamed of.”
I glanced at him from the corner of my eye and hit him with my shoulder. “Yes, sorry for inconveniencing you.”
“Just so! True love is terribly inconvenient.”
I caught him around the neck and pulled him up the steps. “Are you saying, Sir William Bentley, that you finally believe in love?”
He halted and let the question hang in the air, before leaning in and whispering, “Though I would not admit it to anyone else, Lady Bentley . . . it turns out love is an area in which I am no authority. Would you teach me? Could prove to be a fun little game.”
I pressed my lips together to contain a smile. “I accept. After all, who better than I to practice on?”
He kissed me, long and lingering, ending with a smile against my lips. “Then let’s hop to it, Little Cricket.”
I threw my head back and laughed, a laughter that only increased when William swung me around and swept me through the front door. And I hated every second of it. Every second.
THE END
Enjoyed the book? Leave a review on Amazon, Goodreads, or Bookbub, to help other readers discover it too!
Want a FREE ebook? Sign up for Jessica’s newsletter at and stay up to date on all her new releases!
Author’s note
Cygnus is the name of the swan constellation, and Deneb is its brightest star. Though in Greek mythology Cygnus is a boy, in the story William tells Eliza, Cygnus was a woman who visited her husband once a year when the swans bridged the river between earth and heaven. This is rooted in the Chinese association with the constellation, but obviously I took great liberties in dramatizing it, and created a folktale out of the concept of swans bridging the heavens.
Acknowledgments
This book was an absolute pain to write. I mean, all books are pains—but let’s just say that William’s character, especially as a love interest, made my job extremely difficult. Sometimes I wanted to shake his shoulders and say, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING. KEEP THIS UP YOU MORON AND EVERYONE IS GOING TO HATE YOU.”
Haha. But seriously.
More to the point, this book was a journey that forced me to grow as a writer. I’m thankful for that, and toward all the people who helped make it happen.
First, I want to thank my Heavenly Father, for leading me down this path. He showed me how to fix my story after getting colossally stuck and letting it sit on a shelf for almost a year. I’ve felt His influence in steering my life toward writing—be it songs, plays, or novels—and honestly, I couldn’t be more grateful that I can be His instrument while doing something I love.
Secondly, this story would probably still be wandering the files of my computer if it weren’t for the genius of Alayna. I’m so glad you’re a genius. I can’t remember which ideas were yours and which were mine, because we built on each other so much. But, just know that your ideas were the lifeblood of this story. Not everyone will let me vent my fictional character’s problems to them—let alone my own! Thank you for always listening. I love you.
Thank you to beta readers—especially the ones I solicited, who still read it and offered feedback. Lol. (Looking at you, Chrissy!) You’re all 10x smarter than me. Thank you for pointing out the smudges I needed to polish in order to make my story really shine.
Last of all . . . Thank you, Daniel. You give me hope.
Even though you’re a rude-head who still hasn’t read either one of my books. What kind of supportive husband are you.
About the Author
Jessica Scarlett grew up in rural Utah, where lots of wide-open space served as a blank canvas for her rampant imagination. Along with being an author, she is a songwriter and a huge Broadway fan, so don’t be surprised if she hears the people sing or defies gravity on a regular basis.
Being mother to two crazy-eyed kiddos, she has been forced to develop a deep appreciation for humor—which is probably why she laughs so much at her own jokes. Though Jessica currently writes regency romance, she loves dashing heroes from all eras in history, and hopes to one day branch out.
Like Jessica’s page on Facebook and follow her on Instagram!
Masks (Wycliffe Family Book 2)
A Lord of Many Masks (Wycliffe Family Book 2) Page 27