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A tap on the door preceded Jonas. He came in, his attention fixing immediately on her, his gaze traveling, openly possessive, from the top of her curls to the tips of her apricot satin slippers. His slow smile warmed her; when his dark eyes rose to hers, love glowed in their depths. He arched a brow. “Are you ready?” She glanced back at the mirror. “Yes.” She turned to him. “Issy?” “She’s the epitome of calm impatience. She’s sitting clutching her bouquet in the drawing room with Henry to keep her company. It’s still too early to start for the church—the later-arriving guests would never forgive us.” “Indeed not. Some are traveling from quite a distance.” The point held importance for both her and Issy; they’d both learned, by not having, to value what they now had. This was what they needed their future to hold—family, putting down new roots in the village that was theirs, growing new branches to their old family tree. Lifting her own bouquet from the dressing table, Em smoothed the long ribbons, then turned and seized the moment to look at Jonas—to drink in the sight of him, her husband, her mate—then she smiled and went forward to join him. His lips curved gently; he raised his brows. “What?” She smiled up at him, let her own love show. “I was just thinking a thought I often have these days.” His brows rose higher. “Is this a thought I want to know?” She chuckled. “I think so—I realized some time ago that the real treasure that waited for me in Colyton had nothing to do with gold and jewels.” His smile was triumphant. “I was waiting here—you came and found me.” She laughed and whirled to the door. “Indeed. I found you, I found love. I discovered I had a Tallent for loving.” He chuckled and followed her. “Talent and a Tallent—if I have any say in it, you’ll have opportunity aplenty to exercise both for the rest of your life.” “I’ll hold you to that,” she promised. “I intend to make sure I do.” Jonas smiled and, agreeing entirely with her sentiment, let her have the last word.