Sin grinned widely as he read the betrothal contract on the table separating him from the Earl of Desmond—and flanked on both sides by Lady Patience’s brothers, Merit and Valor. As promised, though most likely begrudgingly added by the earl, was a stipulation aimed at gaining some form of membership to the Wicked Earls’ Club for Merit and Valor.

Some form of membership was a broad and vague term, and the Earl of Desmond had demanded, in a hushed whisper, that Sin only get his sons an invitation for a meal or two at the club and nothing more.

It was an easy enough promise to make—far simpler to keep than those he’d made to Lady Patience.

Sin glanced at the precisely written agreement one more time before dipping his quill into the ink pot at the right and signing his name.

Honestly, it didn’t matter what he had to promise as long as Patience was to be his wife.

As if knowing he needed her close, Patience’s light laughter sounded from across the room where she and her sisters were seated before the fire while the men handled important matters—or so the elder earl had stated. Sin, as well as Patience’s entire family, was sheltered inside Marsh Manor as the rains from several days before turned into a torrential downpour that made travel outside the city impossible.

Sin glanced at Patience, not at all shocked to find her staring back at him.

Her dark locks hung in perfect curls down her back, the front pinned at her crown with a pearl hairpin. A rosy flush stained her cheeks, and Sin had the desperate urge to join her and her sisters to discover what they laughed about…and chuckle along with them.

Setting the quill aside, Sin pushed from his seat. “Will that be all, my lord?”

In only a fortnight, Sin had gone from having only himself to depend on to save his lands and his people, to realizing that not only would Patience be with him through the many hard years to come but also her family…who were soon to be part of his family, as well.

Desmond nodded. The exhaustion Sin had noted in the older man the night they met had seemingly disappeared. He even smiled before gesturing toward his three daughters, giving Sin permission to join them.

“Our work is done here, my boy,” Desmond chuckled, collecting the paperwork.

Sin had thought it best for the Desmond solicitor to be present, but the earl, as well as Merit and Valor, hadn’t thought it necessary. The betrothal agreement was standard, with no surprising terms besides that which dealt with the Wicked Earls’ Club, and Patience’s dowry was far more generous than Sin had expected. It was enough to see his estate returned to good standings with plenty left over for crops, repairs, and any needed equipment.

His refusal to accept such a large portion of the Desmond coffers went unheard, and the earl said he would find it difficult to bear living so far from his youngest child; however, knowing the St. Seville estate was in proper order would make, as he’d said, “an old man sleep well at night.”

Turning toward the gathering of women, Sin came face-to-face with Patience as she strolled in his direction.

When had he realized that leaving her behind in London when he returned to Brownsea Island would never be an option for him? That night in his room at the Albany when she’d cleaned his wounds…their time at Southlund’s House…when they’d journeyed to the Strand?

No, it was the moment she’d rushed to him in Bedford Square after Holstrom had turned his back on him and lifted him to his feet before helping him to her carriage.

Whatever had been lacking within him, the gaping hole he hadn’t realized existed, had begun to fill in that moment.

Sin held out his arms, and Patience, without a second’s hesitation, walked into them.

“Is it done?” she asked, setting her cheek against his chest. “Everything is signed?”

He nodded, placing a kiss to her forehead before tucking her head under his chin, no longer caring if the embrace was overly intimate. Everyone present wanted nothing but the best for Patience—and in quick order, she’d told her family exactly what would make her happy.

Sin, the Earl of St. Seville…and no one else.

It would be his life’s mission to make certain he was worthy of both of her love and her sacrifices—each and every day.

“Are you certain this is what you desire?” he whispered. He knew he’d asked much of her: a life away from London and her family. “Brownsea is—”

“…where I will be happy. As long as you are there.” She pulled back and gazed up at him. “I love you, Sin. I might’ve tried to fight it with everything I had, but my happiness, my heart, and my home are by your side.”

Sin leaned down and placed his lips to hers, as if sealing her words and making his own promise in return. In that moment, it was only Patience who mattered. Her happiness and love guaranteed his future, and their future would be full of affection, adoration, and bliss.