It was an absolutely perfect day to be married. The skies were clear, and the ground was covered with freshly fallen snow. It was a day that Charles never thought he would see. He stood at the front of the church, wearing his best blue waistcoat and finest trousers. Beside him, Graham stood quiet and alert. The bruises on his face had turned a sickly yellow as they started to heal. The rest of his friends had initially taken their places beside him. This was a momentous occasion for them all, and it didn’t feel right for them not to stand with Charles. But before the ceremony had started, due to the general crowding and already anxious clergyman, they’d taken their places in the front pews with their wives. Beside them were his mother and sister.

Charles scanned the crowd seated in St. George’s, astonished at the number of guests who could arrive on such short notice. His mother caught his eye and smiled encouragingly. He answered her with a wink, and then his gaze drifted to the front of the church.

I never thought this day would come. I never dreamed that I would know love or share it with another person.

Yet here he was, waiting for Lily to come down the aisle. He wasn’t nervous, not like many of his friends had been on their wedding days. He had no doubts, no fears, no worries, not when it came to Lily. She was his North Star, a gleaming beacon that he could set his course to for the rest of his life. Tying his life to hers…well, in a sense it had happened long before today. Despite the deceptions she’d been forced to play out, there had been a deeper bond between them, which had ultimately set her free. This ceremony was only a formality. In his mind, he and Lily had been husband and wife since the moment she’d agreed to marry him. Though the ceremony and documents would use her assumed name as Emily’s cousin, a second set of documents had been added with Lily’s true name, which would be set aside and hidden until their business with Hugo was concluded.

Graham leaned in close to whisper, “You seem so certain about this.”

Charles offered a smile. “Why would I have any doubts? She is my life, my breath, my every hope and dream. A smart man knows better than to question his destiny.”

“Father said that about Mother once.”

“He did?” Charles had wanted to believe his parents’ marriage had been a love match. They’d insisted it was, but he’d always had his doubts after his father had rescued Jane Waverly. He had seen so much love between his father and Jane that day, so much pain over the life they never had a chance to have together. Knowing his father had settled by marrying his mother had always hurt him deeply.

Graham’s lips curled up in a smile. “He once told me that he knew Mother was his destiny because of the way she danced with him. He told me he hadn’t known at first that love could grow softly over time, until the day he danced with her and he realized they were perfectly in tune. I was worried I might never find that, but it seems you have. That gives me hope.”

“Love does grow softly and sweetly.” He thought of all the times Lily, as Tom, had provided him not just with her physical presence but an emotional tether. She’d cared for him all that time, bearing the burden of her secrets alone. That hadn’t been part of Hugo’s plan, he knew that. Her support had saved him from despair and madness. Had Hugo known of their bond, he no doubt would have used it to poison their affection for eachother further.

It is my turn now to bear her burdens and to care for her.

The doors opened at the far end of the church. Everyone turned as Lily stepped into the church, one hand curled around Godric’s arm.

The world froze as he gazed upon his future. Even the motes of dust dancing in the sunbeams from the windows seemed to stand still.

I’ve been so blind. My heart’s desire was with me all along.

The wedding gown Lily wore was of the softest pale-blue silk, like ice over a frozen pond, reflecting the winter skies above it. Belgian lace trimmed her bodice and the edges of her skirts, which billowed out as she walked toward him. His eyes lifted to her face, nervous about what he would see when she looked at him. Lily’s face shone with an eagerness that echoed his own. One would think that Godric was the only thing keeping her from running into his arms. Relief and giddiness rippled through him, and he had to remind himself to stay where he was and not run to her.

Godric passed Lily’s hand carefully into Charles’s. The sunlight illuminated her gold hair like a halo. She was indeed his angel, but no fragile creature with delicate wings. His Lily was an archangel, a warrior who fought the darkness.

She gazed at his chest and his waistcoat, which had gleaming white lilies sewn into the blue silk. “You wore lilies?”

“Of course. I had it tailored just for you.”

The clergyman coughed for their attention. They shared a sheepish glance before facing him.

“Well, let’s get on with this, before I get struck by lightning,” Charles said, loud enough for the room to hear. “I touched the holy water on the way in, and I fear that it may have burned me.”

Lily giggled and covered her mouth with a gloved hand.

With an aggrieved sigh, the clergyman began the ceremony that would forever change Charles’s life.

Emily St. Laurent felt tears trail down her cheeks. For as long as she’d known Charles, she’d seen his pain and the way he’d masked it with humor and roguish wickedness. But now there was finally hope. No, more than hope—there was joy. She saw it in his eyes when Lily all but raced to him at the altar.

I said I would find someone who would love you as you deserved, Charles. But the truth is that she found you.

Lily and Charles shared a laugh after he jested about being struck by lightning, much to the clergyman’s dismay. Emily chuckled as Godric curled an arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze.

“You did this, darling,” he whispered in her ear. “You were the beginning for all of us.” He pressed his lips to her cheek and nodded at their row of friends.

Emily leaned forward, looking at those who had become her family, her world.

Wicked Lucien and his sweet Horatia, and their little son, Evan.

Adventurous Cedric with his wife, Anne.

Calculating Ashton and his fiery Scottish wife, Rosalind.

And, of course, Jonathan, Godric’s half brother, alongside Lady Society herself, Audrey.

Because of Lady Society, she had known long before she’d even met Godric that he and his friends were bound together by a deep bond of friendship. The speculation of that bond had been a recurring theme in her early articles.

But it was a spontaneous decision by Godric to kidnap her over her uncle’s debt that had led to the League’s salvation.

“To think, if I’d never abducted you that night…” Godric said as his arm curled around hers. “I don’t know where any of us would be without you. Especially Charles.”

Emily wiped at her tears. “You think yourselves wicked, but in truth you have all been the most noble and wonderful men. Even if during our first encounter you were all acting incredibly foolish.” She smiled up at him. “But it did lead to the most wonderful things.”

“You led to the most wonderful things,” Godric corrected her. “You and your lady friends. I fear we all would have been lost without you.”

Godric placed a hand on her swollen belly, feeling the tiny life within her flutter in excitement. The baby loved the sound of Godric’s voice, she was sure of it, and she’d felt it stirring more and more in recent days.

“Everything will be different now,” Godric said.

Emily smiled. “Of course it will. Charles is in love. Nothing could possibly be the same.”

Emily prayed that he would be safe. That they would all be safe. But with Hugo lurking in the shadows, these glorious moments seemed all too fleeting. Soon the League would face their greatest danger yet.

Lily was caught in a dream, like a glistening dewdrop suspended on the length of a shimmering strand of spiderweb at dawn. She felt the magic of this day infusing her with strength and hope. All around her the wedding guests talked and laughed, the sounds of their gaiety filling her heart with an intense warmth.

And yet part of her felt like a fraud. She was not truly free to be herself. She was not Lily Wycliff, after all, but Lily Linley. She was not free to act as though she knew all their guests by name, even though she did. As Tom, she’d met most of them, but she was supposed to be a stranger in Charles’s world. She couldn’t forget to play the part.

And then, of course, there was the specter of Hugo lurking in the back of her mind.

“You seem a bit dazed, my dear.” Violet, Charles’s mother, joined her in one of the few semi-secluded spots in the large dining room of Charles’s townhouse.

“I think you’re right,” Lily confessed. She smoothed down her pale-blue skirts, even though they were already perfectly flat. It had become a nervous habit of hers, ever since she’d grown used to her Tom disguise. She felt rather exposed wearing a dress.

“Wedding breakfasts can be overwhelming,” Violet agreed and put her arm around Lily’s shoulder, giving her a squeeze. “You’re doing well. Just remember to breathe and smile. You’ll have your privacy soon enough.”

“Thank you,” Lily whispered, but when Violet moved to leave, Lily caught her hand. “May I ask… Do you approve of me, Lady Lonsdale?”

Violet’s brows knit in confusion. “Approve of you?”

“Do you believe I am good enough for your son?” She still felt she was not and never would be good enough. Charles had told his mother much of the truth of who she was, leaving out only Hugo’s role in things and explaining her deception as Tom as a desperate attempt to provide for her daughter.

Violet cupped Lily’s face in a motherly way, peering deep into her eyes. “Do you love him?”

“More than anything in my life, except Katherine. I would die for him,” Lily promised.

Violet chuckled gently. “I’m sure that won’t be necessary. Neither of you need be so silly or do anything so Shakespearean. But I see your love for him. As though he’s your world and you are caught up in his gravity.” Violet looked at Charles, who was a ways off talking to a few guests. “He’s exactly the same with you. I daresay you are both worthy of each other, and that is good. Marriage should be a union of equals, in heart, body, mind, and soul.” Violet kissed her cheek. “And I am proud to call you daughter. Now, where is my grandchild?” She looked around the room. Kat was in Emily’s arms, playing with a lock of Emily’s auburn hair.

Lily watched with joy as Violet retrieved the child from Emily and held her close, whispering in Kat’s ear. The baby squealed in delight, catching the attention of several guests, though no one seemed particularly upset that a child was at an adult gathering. Charles had insisted Katherine be present. He’d already shown Kat off to his friends, which had filled Lily with the greatest joy.

After a long moment of watching the guests around her, she needed a minute to catch her breath. She slipped outside the room unnoticed, walked down to the library, and sat down on one of the couches. Drawing a deep breath, she tried to convince herself this fairy-tale moment was in fact happening. It wasn’t a dream. She was married to Charles.

She heard footsteps behind her and saw Charles standing in the doorway, holding two plates of wedding cake. Orange rose petals covered the top of the cake, and the floral scent it created was intoxicating. He kicked the door to the library closed and flipped the latch while juggling the plates.

“Finally, my own bloody wedding cake.” He grinned and held out one plate to her. She took it, unable to hide a smile as she remembered how he had brought her a slice at Jonathan and Audrey’s wedding breakfast a few months ago. It was something he’d done at every wedding she’d attended with him in the last year.

“What amuses you, wife?” Charles asked. The way he caressed the word wife made her heart tremble and quake with pent-up longing.

“You,” she replied. “It seems you are always bringing me cake.” She dipped her fork into the cake and sampled a bite. Heavenly. A few bites later, her plate was gently taken from her and set out of reach.

Charles pulled her close and kissed her. His arms cradled her body, and she lost all sense of time around her as she surrendered to him. She could feel his heart against her and an excitement that tingled from her head down to her toes as he kindled a fire within her. He moved his lips to her ear, whispering soft sweet things to her. She nearly wept at the bittersweet perfection she felt being in his arms, knowing the perils that tomorrow might bring.

I would give anything for today to never end.

Then his mouth was on hers again, sending new spirals of passion through her as he banished her fears. He explored her with a hungry eagerness that her own body echoed with equal urgency. She parted her lips, eager for a deeper kiss. Their tongues played together, each still tasting the sugary sweetness of their wedding cake lingering upon the other’s lips.

Lily threw her arms around his neck and pulled him flush against her. He lay back on the couch, pulling her to lie on top of him. Her tired soul seemed to sink into him. She relaxed and kissed his chin, his cheeks, his throat. She wanted him to feel how grateful she was to be his, how blessed she felt to call him hers in this moment. His masculine scent, carrying that hint of sandalwood and leather, belonged to her now. The way his gray eyes twinkled and the twitch of an almost smile—they were hers now to enjoy. Charles belonged to her in every way, and knowing that filled her with joy. She planted a kiss in the hollow of his neck before returning to his lips. He chuckled softly, and she could taste his smile.

“This is rather nice—to be the one eagerly seduced for a change, I mean.” He gently dug his fingers into her hair, holding her still as he gazed upon her startled face.

She felt her face heat up. Perhaps it was bad for a wife to be intent on seducing her husband. “You don’t mind that I…?”

“Mind? Lord, no. This is a fantasy to end all fantasies, my love. You may do this every day if you like. In fact, I insist you do.” He brushed the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip. “The others would be insanely jealous to know what an aggressive wife I have.” His eyes glinted with merriment, and she couldn’t resist smiling back.

“You’re terribly wicked,” she reminded him.

“I certainly am.” He moved his hands up her skirts, lifting them, and then he cupped her bottom. Her pulse quickened as desire began to overrule rational thought.

“Could we…here?” she whispered, scandalized and yet hopeful.

“It is our house. We can anywhere.” The glint in Charles’s gray eyes promised her wicked, wonderful things. And she knew he would deliver.