Perfect Bride (32 page)

hey wed less than a fortnight later, in the chapel at Thurston Hall. It was a small, quiet ceremony, attended only by the closest of friends and family. Devon wore an exquisitely layered gown of silk and lace.

The ceremony concluded, there were no tears— well, except for Grandmama and Julianna, who had sniffled throughout. When the two were pro
nounced husband and wife, Devon lifted shining, love-misted eyes to her husband.

Sebastian, his eyes wickedly agleam, locked his bride into an all-encompassing embrace and pro
ceeded to kiss her with thoroughly unabashed, breath-stealing ardor.

Oddly enough, it was Justin who, a brow quirked high in sardonic amusement, loudly cleared his throat, causing them to reluctantly break the seal of their lips.

Scandal was the last thing on Sebastian’s mind in the days before the wedding. In light of Devon’s dar
ing rescue by Sebastian, the women of the
ton
clasped their hands together and sighed dreamily, declaring the match wonderfully romantic. From the moment the betrothal was announced, a host of good wishes poured in. Of course, the nuptials of the marquess of Thurston caused a bevy of young misses to sigh their disappointment that the most el
igible bachelor in London had been lost to another. From the moment the pair were glimpsed together arm in arm, scarcely able to tear their eyes from each other, it was clear to any and all that these two were meant for each other.

They spent the last few months of Devon’s confine
ment at Thurston Hall. And it was there in his cham
ber, in the immense four-poster where Sebastian had made love to no other woman but his wife—the bed where he’d vowed his children would be born—that Devon strained and heaved and struggled to bring forth their firstborn child.

Her pains had come a few weeks early, a blessing Sebastian told himself, for she’d shown the effects of her pregnancy almost immediately. By her seventh month, she was...well, there was no delicate way to put it, positively huge. Of course, he assured her daily that she was the most beautiful creature on this earth . . .

For she was.

From the outset, he’d taken his place at the head of the bed, much to the midwife’s disapproval. He tried to make himself useful, whispering encourage ment, wiping the sweat from her brow, when in truth
he’d never felt so helpless in his life. His heart con tracted. Ah, but she was so brave, turning her cheek into his palm and teasing him between pains, as if to reassure him!

Devon’s pains were almost constant now. Her back arched, and she gave a tiny little moan, the first she’d made. Her entire body quivered, and then he could only stare in mingled fear and fascination as a small head, dark as his own, came into view. A pair of narrow shoulders came next, a round little belly. And then...

“A boy!” came the midwife’s cry. “Oh, a hand
some wee one, he is!”

Devon immediately held out her arms. “Oh, let me hold him!”

Sebastian watched numbly as the midwife cleaned the slippery little body, wrapped him warmly, and pressed him into his mother’s arms.

Sebastian had risen to his feet. Devon pressed her lips against the babe’s scalp and reached for Sebastian’s hand, beaming. He squeezed her fingers.

“Devon—”

All at once she gasped. “Oh, my,” she said weakly. “Mrs. Carver—”

Mrs. Carver had already assessed the situation.

Sebastian’s face went ashen. “What?” he cried. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

The midwife thrust his son into his arms. “Here, my lord,” she advised cheerfully. “It seems there be another one a-coming.”

Clutching the small, squirming bundle that was his son, Sebastian dutifully did as he was told. He was still marveling when the midwife departed a short time later.

Devon latched on to his free hand and tugged him down beside her, her smile brilliant.

She laughed at his dazed state. “Sebastian, you’re looking rather befuddled! Now come and meet your daughter.”

He swallowed and spoke the first thing that popped into his head. “My God,” he said with a shake of his head, “when I said I wanted a houseful of children, I thought we’d be starting with one, not two . . .” He stared at the golden head nestled into the crook of Devon’s elbow and swallowed. “May I hold her?”

Devon eased the other little bundle into his other arm. Holding both son and daughter, he lost his heart yet again ...A tremor of emotion rushed through him, emotion that was unbearably sweet. He kissed four flailing, tiny fists—and then his wife’s waiting lips.

Later, with the babes tucked snugly away in their cradles, he climbed into bed and carefully gathered his bride against his length.

Devon was on the verge of sleep when a sudden laugh rumbled beneath her ear.

She lifted her head from his chest. “What is it?” she murmured sleepily.

“I was just musing on what the last year has brought me. When I began my search for a bride, I never dreamed I’d find her that very night—and right under my nose!”

“What, sir, are you complaining?”

“Not at all.” His arms engulfed her. He pressed his mouth against the curls at her temple. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you madly, in a way that
makes me giddy with happiness, and rich in a way that has nothing to do with wealth.”

Her throat grew achingly tight. “Oh, Sebastian,” she whispered, “that’s the way I love you too.”

Their lips clung in a long, unbroken kiss. When it was over, he smiled crookedly.

“In truth, I have but one wish.”

“And what is that?”

“That Justin and Julianna find what we have found together.”

Devon snuggled closer. “I daresay we are proof that love can be found in the most unexpected places.”

“Do you think so?”

“I do. Despite the fact that Julianna has vowed that no man will ever turn her head, something inside tells me that someday she will find a man who will sweep her from her feet and make her as happy as we are.” She chuckled. “But your brother ...why, I fear it’s hopeless!”

“I know,” Sebastian laughed. “I wonder if the woman exists who can tame such a rogue!”

“Well,” Devon murmured, “we shall simply have to wait and see, shan’t we . . .”

It was
SAMANTHA JAMES
’s love of reading as a child that steered her toward a writing career. Among her favorites in those days were the Trixie Belden and Cherry Ames series of books. She still loves a blend of mystery and romance, and, of course, a happily-ever-after ending.

The award-winning, bestselling author of twelve romances and one novella, her books have ranged from medieval to Regency and the American West. Samantha is thrilled to be writing again in the Regency era, and to present the start of her own series, beginning with
A Perfect Bride
.

Samantha loves hearing from readers. You may contact her at her website: www.samanthajames.com.

Don't miss the next book by your favorite author. Sign up now for AuthorTracker by visiting www.AuthorTracker.com.