Henry could see Alex figuring out the algebraic computation that made an heiress into a countess from a rebel goddess minus the castle and maze multiplied by the joy she’d give to the families in need.
She quirked her mouth to the side and shrugged her shoulders. “I guess I could accept the title for the opportunity to work with your little charity thing.”
Henry laughed and squeezed her as tightly as he could without hurting her broken ribs. “My aunt and uncle think you’d be a brilliant countess.”
“They also think your position at the university is cute. Not the people I’d base my future reputation on.”
“Come. I’ve made dinner. We can discuss what everyone will call you while we eat.” Henry helped her out of the chair and placed her crutches in her hands.
On the way to the kitchen, they wandered through the gallery. Lady Elizabeth sat on her horse and peered down her nose at the earl.
Alex stared ahead at a small landscape Henry had acquired from a local artist when visiting the Isle of Skye several years ago. “See the way the artist melded the oils with the acrylic paint. It adds a depth you can’t achieve with one type of medium.”
Henry moved toward her. “As interesting as that may be, I like it because it reminds me of a trip my mother and I took to the ocean, away from my father. My mother laughed the entire week. I’d never been so happy, until now. I love you, Alex.”
Placing both crutches in her left arm, Alex tightened her grip on Henry. “I think I’ve loved you since that first kiss in the maze, Lord Henry.”
He leaned over and kissed her, closing his eyes, savoring her taste. Careful to not hurt the broken bone in her cheek or harm the many bruises that had faded to shadows of her injuries, he breathed in the scent of jasmine tea and a cinnamon roll she’d purchased at the local bakery. It would have been a perfect moment, if she’d reciprocated the kiss. Her mouth, however, remained on his, frozen in one position, a frown. He glanced down to see Alex gaping at Lady Elizabeth.
“That’s Lady Elizabeth,” she announced.
“We should call this version Lady Elizabeth Gillett, the Second.”
Alex shook her head. “No, the real Lady Elizabeth.”
Henry continued to hold her, but turned his attention to the painting. Sure enough, the blue eyes had faded to a softer hue.
It didn’t make sense. “I saw the painting catch fire in Paris.”
“Which version?” She limped over to the portrait and brushed a finger over the muzzle of the horse.
“I didn’t stop to analyze the colors in the painting while fending off Luc.” How could the painting have been switched again, unless… Simon. His brother had better contact him soon.
“Sorry.” She hugged him and rested her head on his shoulder. “I wish I saw you all heroic and masculine.”
“I’m masculine enough to not have to show you how heroic I am.”
“Yet another reason I love you.”
…
Alex hobbled out of Ripon Manor and walked through the rose garden, carrying a single orange rose. Her limp was less pronounced, and her leg felt much better since her final surgery a few weeks before. Her gown, made of white organza tied with an orange satin sash around her waist, blew in the crisp autumn air.
Julia and Anna strolled in front of her wearing tea-length tangerine dresses, while Rachel rushed into the maze in a white dress decorated with orange polka dots. The little girl didn’t look as though a car had struck her six months ago. She’d made a much quicker recovery from her ordeal than her aunt did from Luc’s rage.
Peter Northrop met his daughter at the entrance and tucked her arm into his. His pace slowed to assist her. He always appeared strong, capable, and in control, but he’d never had control of Alex, and the frustration of that tended to crease his brow. “It’s nice to see you so happy. You’re a beautiful bride, although I think something a bit more traditional would have been preferable.”
“I’m wearing mostly white.” She brushed her hand across her orange sash.
Peter shook his head. “Obtaining a title will place your life under more scrutiny than you ever had with us.”
He still didn’t get it. Henry wasn’t marrying her for her fortune, and she wasn’t marrying him for his title, although the castle was a nice bonus. They respected each other. They cared about each other’s past, present, and future. They loved each other. And they both desired to start a family, no matter what form that family might take.
“Trust me, becoming the Countess of Ripon will be a cakewalk compared to living as Peter Northrop’s daughter. At least Henry likes me no matter what I wear or do.”
One of his eyebrows arched up. “Orange hair included?”
“Orange hair included. Although if you want to be technical, it’s only a couple of orange extensions.”
They turned the final corner. The few guests invited to the ceremony, immediate family and a local minister, stood in the middle of the maze near the spot Henry had first kissed her. There would be a large reception for everyone else later in the afternoon.
The real Gabrielle, her elegant mother, stood next to Alex’s sisters and Jason. Alex released her father and stepped carefully to her mother’s side. Her father had only taken her so far in life. He’d only escort her on part of this journey as well. Someday, they might try to work out their differences, but not on her wedding day.
Her mother clasped her hands. A rare tear cascaded down her cheek. “You look unique and incredibly beautiful. Thank you for including us in this special day.”
“I’m glad you’re all here.”
They hugged. Alex had lost years with her family due to the stubborn streak she’d inherited from her father. No longer. She wanted them all back in her life, even Peter.
She released her mother as her sisters pushed their way into her arms.