Emily

Chapter Twenty Three

A/N: This is the final chapter, and will be followed by an epilogue.

"That one looks like a horse." Emily announced, pointing up at a cloud directly above them, squinting as the full force of the sun hit her.

It was a lovely, bright morning and Nate and Emily had decided to take full advantage of it and had packed a picnic breakfast to take outside. They'd even neglected to take a chaperone, for they had no one to object to them not taking one along. Besides, it wasn't as if Emily had parents who would raise questions against the man she was going to be marrying. In fact, they hadn't even responded to the wedding invitation she had begrudgingly sent them, after days of Nate's wheedling that, at the very least, she would feel better about having made the effort.

And, so, the morning was spent lying on their backs in the ticklish grass in the field behind Somerhall, staring up at the clouds in the sky. They were side by side, but there was less than an inch of space between them and, every so often, Nate would extend his fingers ever so slightly and twine his hand through hers.

"I think it looks far more like a deer." Nate said, turning his face to her with a teasing smile, knowing full well that it looked absolutely nothing like a deer.

"Do you now?" Emily asked, with a slight giggle as he leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to her lips that she gladly reciprocated. "Then, I'm afraid, we must invest in a pair of spectacles for you, my dear fiancé."

Nate chuckled lightly, falling back down. "I think I'd look rather dashing in spectacles, don't you? Also, I can't wait for you to begin addressing me as something besides 'fiancé'."

"What, do you expect me to call out 'husband' through the halls of the house? If you do, then, Nathaniel Whitlock, prepare to be heavily disappointed." She informed him, grasping his hand and playing with his fingers.

"Why not?" He answered in mock offense, "I shall be taking great pleasure in yelling 'wife' gruffly until you respond and serve me a glass of whiskey before sitting demurely in a corner."

"Unfortunately for you, my sitting demurely in a corner would result in your entire estate falling to shambles. Your skills when it comes to arithmetic are somewhat...lacking to say the least." She reminded him, laughing when he tickled her in the stomach lightly before finally letting go.

It had only been a month since he'd proposed, and invitations had gone out three weeks before, yet it still felt as if they had already spent a lifetime together, yet in the most wonderful of ways. If that was what married life was like, then Emily was willing to spend a hundred years married to the man.

"What sort of wedding do you want?" Nate asked curiously, "I know it's a little late to be asking but, if Cassandra and Allie hadn't insisted on certain things, what would your ideal wedding be?"

His sisters had contributed quite a lot to the process of planning the wedding, not that Emily minded. Cassie's contributions stemmed from the fact that her own wedding had been tiny and practically an elopement, and Allie's from a sincere desire to make the wedding as romantic as possible. There were also a number of people that they were obligated to invite although they would not necessarily be welcome attendants.

"In truth, I don't care how or where we get married." She answered, entirely honest. "As long as you're the one standing on the other end of that aisle."

Upon seeing his unchanging look, Emily rolled her eyes before amending her answer slightly, "Well, I suppose, if I had to choose, I'd have a small wedding. It would only be the closest friends and family and, of course, it would happen in the Somerhall chapel. We'd have an even smaller reception after. I do know, though, that that isn't exactly possible. There are certain standards to be upheld when you're marrying a Duke and, while I do enjoy breaking traditions, I won't be the one to defy these."