A Fine Passion (Bastion Club 4)

She felt them close about her, looked into his gold and green eyes and saw love shining down at her. She smiled back and let him sweep her onto the floor, into their future.

The crowd let out a collective sigh.

Her brothers and their fiancées followed; the four couples alone circled the floor once. In Jack and Clarice’s wake, a flurry of deliciously scandalized whispers erupted as more of the company took note of her gown, and the rest took note of what a handsome and striking couple they made.

Then others joined them; within a minute fully half the guests had taken to the floor, all eager to be a part of that very special moment.

Clarice didn’t see them; she was too deeply enmeshed in the web of happiness that cocooned her and Jack. “When can we leave for Avening?”

He, too, had eyes only for her. He arched a brow. “Is tomorrow too soon?”

She smiled. “I’ll order the carriage for ten. We can stop at the club on the way.”

Jack grinned. “Anyone would think you didn’t appreciate the ton in all its glory.”

Clarice arched a brow back, haughty, a touch tart. “I appreciate it well enough, but I know what I want—Avening, your children, and you.”

A wise man knew when to keep his lips shut. Jack’s grin deepened into a real smile; he gathered her closer, swept her into the next turn, and started to plan how best to deliver to his warrior-queen precisely what she wanted.

They returned to Avening so James could marry them in the village church where all the Warnefleets for generations had pledged their vows; neither had considered anything else.

Mindful of Jack’s injuries, not just his healing shoulder but his still-healing head, Clarice insisted they take three days to cover the distance from London, stopping for long relaxed luncheons and ending the day in the late afternoon at a comfortable inn.

They were traveling ahead of a small army. Her three brothers, their fiancées, and numerous other members of her family, as well as Jack’s aunts and other family members, along with a select contingent of family friends, Lady Osbaldestone among them, were to follow in a few days.

They intended to marry as soon as may be; neither wished to waste any more of their lives. Appealed to, the bishop had been only too happy to bestow a special license and his blessing on them. The other members of the Bastion Club had been duly summoned; all would shortly arrive. Dalziel had been invited, but had, predictably, sent his regrets.

Jack suggested they ride the last stretch. Glad enough to be free of the confines of the coach, Clarice joined him in long gallops interspersed with ambling walks through countryside still sharp with the freshness of spring, down lanes wending through rolling fields, sunshine and a sense of belonging all about them.

At the last, they cantered up the Tetbury lane and reined in at the top of the rise, as Jack had only a few weeks before. With Clarice beside him, he looked down on Avening valley, on the orchards surrounding his home, at the clouds of apple blossom still clinging to the trees.

The same, and yet not. The emotion the sight and scent of apple blossom evoked in him had changed.

He glanced at Clarice, smiling lightly as she surveyed her domain.

Jack felt his heart swell. This was his real homecoming, because now, with her, his home was complete.

Reaching for her hand, he raised it to his lips, brushed a gentle kiss across her knuckles. Met her eyes and smiled when, surprised, she looked questioningly at him.

Releasing her, he waved her on. Side by side, they rode down the hill, to the village, to the manor.

Boadicea, Avening, and apple blossom.

At long last, he was home.