Page 91 of Against the Magic

“I’m going to have to take a rain check on that,” she said. “Your mother’s expecting us in an hour, and we still have to frost the cookies.”

“What have you got there?” Jem pointed to the screen. “More stuff for your skills program?” Reese turned the monitor so he could see it better, and he said, “Ah. Kellworth.” He fought back the jealousy that reared its ugly head every time the topic of the Earl came up.

“I finally got the nerve to check on them.” His wife’s sadness put out the fire of his insecurity. Reese had chosenhim, after all.

“What did you find out?” He squatted down so he could be level with her.

“I haven’t looked yet. I just want to know they were happy, but I’m afraid I might find out they weren’t.”

“Are you ever sorry—” he began, but she put a finger to his lips and rose, pulling him to his feet.

“I will never be sorry for choosing you.Ever.” She slid her arms around his neck and pressed her warm, soft lips to his.

Jem savored the taste of her, the feel of her in his arms, the knowledge that she was his. She could have been a countess, but she had wanted him instead. He took the kiss deeper and moved to soft feathery kisses down her neck.

“Wait. I’m getting poked.” Reese patted the lump in his shirt pocket. “What is it?”

“A letter. It was in the mailbox, but I didn’t look at it.” Jem pulled it out.

It carried the Twickenham seal. They looked at each other, their mouths open. His stomach knotted.

Reese snatched it and tore it open with shaking hands. Jem bent to read it. It was a wedding invitation, dated 1850. She gasped.

“Do you want to go?” he asked.

“Of course!” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.