“Didn’t I tell you I’d kiss you under the stars?” Ned murmured into her ear.
“That’s not just any star, Ned.” She urged his gaze heavenward. “That’s the Christmas star.”
They fell quiet for a time, both of them looking up at the star that shone so much more brightly than the others. “Well,” Ned said finally, “if that isn’t fortuitous for this partnership, I don’t know what is.”
“A partner,” Sophie repeated. “Is that how you think of me?”
He made a soft sound of assent as he enfolded her back into his embrace. “Not very romantic, is it? But I don’t want you to feel powerless with me. I value your intelligence and your strength. I’d rather you stood at my side than in my shadow.”
She tightened her arms around his neck, blinking rapidly against another swell of tears. “I think that may be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”
His lips brushed over her damp cheek. He held her fast for a long while, the bells on the horses’ bridles the only sound in the star-studded darkness.
“Come,” he said at last, his hands moving over the curve of her spine. “Let’s go back to the house before you and the horses turn into icicles. There’s a blazing fire in the drawing room. And your mother said something about iced gingerbread cake.”
She hugged him tighter. “Yes, by all means. We still have Christmas to celebrate.”
“We do.” He pressed one last soft kiss to her temple. “This Christmas and all the Christmases to come.”
Christmas Day
December, 1861
Though Emily’s betrothal was effectively still a secret, Sophie had no compunction about sharing the news of her own engagement with the entire world. Her betrothal to Ned was announced to their respective families on Christmas Eve and to the rest of the guests on Christmas Day. There were a few whispers from the gentry, but among the villagers, the news was met with near unanimous approbation.
“A love match,” Mrs. Lanyon said, beaming. “Just as the Queen had with her dear Prince Albert.”
Mrs. Sharpe smiled. “I’ve never yet heard my son compared to a prince, but I cannot deny that he and Miss Appersett are well suited.”
“I should say so,” Mrs. Fortescue agreed. “They’ve been billing and cooing all morning.”
Sophie tried not to blush. She’d already done enough of that for a lifetime. It seemed that everyone delighted in embarrassing the two of them.
“You’ve only to say the word and I’ll announce your sister and Murray’s betrothal,” Ned said to her in a low voice. “It would shift the focus off of us, at least.”
“That wouldn’t be very sporting.”
“Perhaps not. But all’s fair in love and war, as the poets say.”
Sophie gave him a look. “The poets haven’t met my sister.”
As if on cue, Emily approached with a few of her friends. “Show Miss Tunstall your betrothal ring, Sophie.”
Sophie obliged her, extending her hand as Miss Tunstall and the other young ladies admired the diamond Ned had given her that morning. It flashed in the gaslight, almost as dazzling as the Christmas star had been the previous evening.
“Oh, look at it!” the ladies exclaimed. “How utterly divine!”
Ned stood beside her, one hand resting at the small of her back. When the well-wishers finally dispersed, he accompanied her to the drawing room sofa. Mama was seated nearby presiding over the tea tray.
Her lips quirked as she watched them sit beside each other. She poured them each a cup of tea. “It will only get worse. People love nothing better than teasing a newly engaged couple.”
“I don’t mind it,” Sophie lied.
Ned was tactfully silent.
She slipped her hand into his. His fingers closed over hers, returning her clasp with a masculine strength tempered by heartbreaking gentleness. “Have you had a happy Christmas, Mama?”
“I have two daughters engaged to two very worthy—and very wealthy—gentlemen. What mother could ask for more?” She smiled fondly at Sophie. “Didn’t I tell you it would all come right in the end?”
“You did.” Sophie’s eyes found Ned’s. “And it’s ended very happily, hasn’t it?”
Ned brought her hand to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles. “I couldn’t be happier. But this isn’t the end, my love. Far from it.”
Her heart fluttered. “You’re right. It’s only the beginning.”