Page 128 of Waking Roslyn

I nodded, elated. “We really could.”

He slipped off the couch and onto his knees. “In that case, my beautiful, brave warrior princess, who will never be a real princess because she is going to destroy that prospect by saying yes to this question: Will you marry me?”

I laughed with joy. “I would love nothing better,” I said before launching myself at him and kissing him without restraint. I was going to get married. John wanted to marry me, and the joy of thinking of a future with him made me giddy.

His arms wrapped around me and I pressed into his warmth, allowing the safety of his embrace to seep into the ripped seams of my tattered heart, stitching them back together.

28

John

My heart was in my throat when I told Roslyn’s parents that we planned to marry, but I needn’t have worried. Not only were they happy for our happiness, but I could sense the burden that lifted from their shoulders at the news. Because, although the earls and their sons were being brought to justice, Roslyn was right. We had no assurance that their cause would not be taken up by another noble, putting her life in danger again. We would all rest easier once we married and she thoroughly ruined her ability to ever inherit the crown.

Her mother was so thrilled, and even more relieved, that soon after hearing the news, she bustled out of the room, proclaiming there was much to prepare. That left us in the drawing room, sitting across from Roslyn’s father. I could have sworn he looked ten years younger, and his immediate acceptance of me meant everything.

“Speaking of plans and preparations,” Roslyn said, sounding hesitant.

“What is it, dear?” her father asked.

“Once we are married,” she said, her fingers tightening around my own, “the threats to my life will cease, but then there are other questions.”

“Such as?” her father prompted.

The hand that wasn’t holding mine clutched at the rosy pink fabric of her skirt. “Where will we live?”

My lungs squeezed at the question. It was one I’d been asking myself, but I’d been too nervous to bring it up, knowing I had little to truly offer her by way of worldly wealth. I could provide for her, I knew that, just…not in the way she was used to.

“Don’t misunderstand,” she said, her eyes darting from her father to me and back again. “I don’t mind living in a common home. I’m perfectly willing to work and…”

“Roslyn,” her father interrupted. “I’ve made preparations.”

Her brow shot up, but she didn’t say anything.

“What preparations?” I asked, my palms suddenly sweating.

He gave me an understanding smile, probably well aware of my nerves, but he directed his answer at Roslyn. “Our primary goal was always to have you come home to Saldine and rejoin society. Your mother has always wanted you to have the opportunities and respect that she was denied.” His expression was that of a man who knew he hadn’t been able to give his daughter what he wanted. “I hoped you’d have those things too. But you know me…”

Roslyn smiled. “You’re too practical to sit around wishing and hoping for the unlikely?”

His expression was rueful. “I’ve been working with your uncle, preparing accommodations for you in Winberg.”

“You have?” Roslyn and I both asked in unison.

He nodded. “Granted, I didn’t realize you’d be married, but this will work out well for you, I think. It’s in the country. It’s not large, just a house that would need only a few servants to run the place. I wanted it to be a refuge where you could retreat to if your return here did not go as planned.”

Roslyn laughed at that. Her return had certainly not gone as planned. But then she sobered, and she swallowed. “There is a house waiting for us?” she asked with the same awe that I was feeling.

On the one hand, it seemed too much, and my pride bristled a bit. On the other hand, it made perfect sense. Of course this man would have made plans for his daughter to ensure her safety and well-being.

The duke nodded easily. “It won’t be the inheritance you deserve, but—”

“I don’t care about that,” she said immediately. “I just want to live in peace.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” I managed to say, though the words weren’t nearly enough.

“It’s an honor to do it. Consider it a wedding gift.”

I chuckled at that. The nobility certainly had a different version of gifts than I did, but I wouldn’t complain.