'It's Christmas,' Emma whispered as Jack drew her into his arms again.
'So it is,' Jack said, against her hair. 'If you reach into my pocket, I have a gift for you.'
'Why can't you?'
'Because I am holding you, and I never intend letting you go again.'
Emma reached in and fished out a small box. She squinted. The box was emblazoned with the name of one of the best jewellers in London. With trembling fingers, she opened it. Inside was a diamond surrounded by two pearls. On the gold band two hands were clasped.
'Let me put it on.' Jack slipped the ring onto her third finger, over her wedding band. 'I bought it in London.'
'But...but...' Emma looked down at the ring.
'I intended asking you to marry me at the Goose Feast, but events overtook me.'
'You let me think that you had married me for the company.' Emma looked up into his face.
'I never mix business with pleasure. How many times do I have to tell you that? I wanted my business concluded with your father before I asked for your hand.'
Emma stared at him in wonderment. He had intended asking her to marry him. The proof was on her finger. It had nothing to do with Harrison and Lowe and everything to do with her. She paused. What if he expected her to be the same as she had been seven years ago? She took the ring off her finger and held it in her palm.
'My mother hid the letter you sent seven years ago,' Emma said. 'My father gave it to me today. It speaks of you holding my image in your heart, a bright flame lighting the darkness of your life, an angel come down to earth.'
'A young man's nonsense. Easily forgotten,' he said lightly.
Emma leant back against his arms and he let her go. She smoothed her skirt and stared out at the silent building site. She had to say everything. She had to make sure there were no shadows between them. Tonight had taught her that, if no other lesson.
'I am about as far from a bright flame as I could be. We did not know each other very well then. Had I received that letter I would have refused you. My first duty was to my mother, and I could not have asked you to wait.'
'I understand.' His voice was tight and stiff.
Emma knew she was in danger of losing him, but she plunged on. 'Are you in love with the girl you thought I was seven years ago?'
His fingers closed around the ring. 'Does it matter?'
'Yes, it does.' She raised her chin and stared at his deep black eyes. 'It matters very much. I grew up. I changed. I found things out about myself that I never dreamt possible. I do not want to be a social butterfly. I want to be me, with all my faults, including taking an interest in building bridges and the like.'
'I don't consider that a fault.' Jack reached out and pulled her into his arms again, held her tightly. 'Emma Stanton, the boy that I was will always admire the girl Emma Harrison. When you refused me and did not answer my letter, I used it as a spur to make my fortune. No one would ever again have the opportunity to dismiss me.'
Emma gulped, but said nothing.
'When I came back here and found you unmarried, my first thought was of revenge. But you piqued my interest. You would not stay in the box I had made for you. I tried to tell myself that I was only doing it to teach you a lesson in humility.'
'But you didn't.'
'It is you who have taught me. I knew at the ball that I did not want to administer a lesson. I wanted to protect you.'
'That night in the drawing room?'
'I took unfair advantage. I kissed you because I wanted to. I wanted to kiss the woman who was before me--who stands before me now.' His hand lifted her chin. 'It is you I want. It is you I made love to last night. I married you because I want you in my life.'
'But you are going away.'
'We are going away. We are taking my private railway car down to London, and then going on our wedding trip. Your father has agreed to look after the bridge with Mudge's help, to build it so the keep is saved. Stephenson will come up and help if needed. The bridge will be built to our design--yours and mine. And it will last. Mrs Newcomb will act as housekeeper, and it will give your father a chance to tutor young Davy.'
'You have thought of everything.'
'I told you, I like to get the details correct.' He dropped a kiss on her nose. 'It is part of my charm.'
'I have no gift for you except my love,' she said in a small voice. He loved her--her, and not some idealised dream. He had married her because he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. 'I had no idea you felt this way. I wanted to hate you, to despise you. You threatened my whole world. But the more I tried, the more I grew to love you. I want to go with you, to be with you wherever you are.'
'Then accept the ring.' He slipped it on her finger. 'With this ring, I thee wed, Emma Stanton.'
'And with all my heart, I thee wed.' Somehow the vows they exchanged felt far more real and permanent than the ones they had uttered in front of the vicar.
'Happy Christmas, Mrs Stanton,' he murmured against her lips as the bells of St Nicholas finished tolling the start of Christmas Day. 'You have shown me what Christmas is truly about.'
'No, it is you who have shown me, Jack Stanton.'