"What are we doing, Si?"

Simon ushered Whitley into the parlor but didn't say a word until Sawyer toted Blair in as well, sitting her next to her sister.

As soon as both of their brides were sitting, Simon cleared his throat. "Ladies, we realized that we both made promises to you that we may possibly need to renege, and we have come here to address it together."

"Excuse me?"

That was Whitley.

"I daresay I shall destroy you both before allowing you to renege on anything."

That was Blair.

Sawyer glared at his fiance. But that glare held very little of anything besides adoration. "Hold that sharp tongue of yours, Blair," he said.

Simon tried and failed to withhold an unattractive snort. "Oh, you know that is the reason you are marrying her, Sawyer," he pointed out. "You love her sharp tongue."

At that, his brother leaned back against the wall with a smirk. "Well, yes. You are correct. I very much love her tongue, especially all of the things it was doing to me this—"

"That is not what I meant," Simon drawled, cutting his brother off to spare Blair. She had turned a rather deep shade of pink.

Sawyer continued to smile, and Simon found it challenging not to match it. With the Pearce twins now both engaged, the departure of the Ash family had been put off to plan for the subsequent weddings. Apparently, both sisters had expressed to their mother the importance of...haste regarding their nuptials.

Sawyer and Simon had not complained.

Special licenses were being procured, and the lot of them would be wed before the leaves began to turn.

"Simon," Whitley began, "what is it that is the matter?"

He gazed at his future wife. Her dress was a shade of blue that matched her sharp eyes, and her blonde curls were falling loosely today. Well, they hadn't been that loose when he'd first seen her this morning, but then Simon had pulled her into the library. And well...

Simon should likely tell her that she looked utterly mussed, properly ravished, but he rather liked the look. Lord, what a beauty she was.

He cleared his throat. "The matter is in regard to the location of our wedding."

"The location?" Blair repeated, cocking her head to the side.

"How terribly upset would you be if we did not have a grand London ceremony, love?" Sawyer asked. He had strode to Blair's side and was now busy toying with her hair.

Blair frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Our uncle," Simon said, shifting on his feet.

"We want Maverick to come," Sawyer added gently, and Simon smiled. His brother had always had a soft spot for Uncle Mav. "He has managed to stay out of the spotlight for all these many years. And we would like to keep it that way."

Uncle Maverick was not like Simon's other uncles. For one, he was the only uncle who was, in all actuality, his uncle. For another, he was...different. It wasn't merely his physical appearance, with his almond-shaped eyes and perfectly rounded face. Maverick often struggled to communicate his words clearly; it was almost as though they'd get stuck on his tongue. And despite his aging years, the man had a childlike wonder to everything he did.

He'd never been introduced to London society. And he likely never would be.

Whitley nodded, her face kind. "Where would we wed?"

Simon and Sawyer both said, simultaneously, "Here."

Blair smiled. "Sounds perfect."

Whitley grinned as well. "'Tis lovely." She looked directly at Simon when she said, "I have no problem with that, dear."

Heavens above, he loved her.

It wasn't more than two weeks before Simon was being stuffed into the most precisely fitting attire he had ever worn. Rosecrest was a flurry of activity. Will and Emilia were arguing—apparently, Lady Trotten had misplaced her gloves. And apparently, this was not the first time it had occurred.

Francis, Felix, Tory, and Nora were playing a game of whist, waiting idly for the festivities to begin. Mr. Rockwell, on the other hand, stood behind Nora, attempting to make strategy suggestions. And by look on Nora's face, they were all awful.

Simon saw Adelaide and Theo in passing. They were hovering with the Duke of Weston in the library, attending to some problem with a Parliament bill. His father and mother, however, were laughing about something in the foyer, waiting for guests. Lord Farrington had a cheeky smile on his face that morning.

Simon strode past him, spotting Whitley in the circle drive as she waited politely to greet those coming for their wedding. Her eyes were on the approaching carriage, which pulled to a stop just before them.

His mother's long-time friend, Lord Damien, stepped out of the vehicle. The man clapped his hand on Simon's shoulder before striding toward Lord and Lady Farrington, who now stood just inside the front doors.

"Who is that?" Whitley whispered in his ear.

"Lord Damien."

When Whitley simply gave him an odd look that told Simon she had no idea, precisely, who Lord Damien was, Simon merely chuckled.

"Oh, Whitley, I cannot wait to tell you all of my family's secrets."

That piqued her interest. "They have secrets?"

Simon nodded with a smile. "Before we were born, the six of them had quite the adventure." He pointed to his parents, who now stood surrounded by Will, Emilia, Addie, and Theo.

Whitley opened her mouth to ask more, but then another carriage pulled before them. Simon hadn't recognized it at first; it came without crests, without prestige.

But then he understood.

Out of the vehicle stepped Dr. John Langdon Down, smiling broadly. He had sandy blonde hair and shrewd eyes that swept across the lot of them. And then they stopped on something. Or rather, someone.

Simon hadn't even realized that Uncle Mav was behind him; the man had spent most of the summer in his chambers, not often venturing outside. But he came rushing out then, eager to see his very best friend.

With a hearty greeting, Langdon threw his arm around Maverick's shoulders and asked, "How are you, old friend?"

Simon honestly couldn't make out one bit of Uncle Mav's reply. But Simon grinned regardless, his heart nearly ready to burst.

They were all here. Here, in the house of summer.

And what a summer it had been.

"Blair, may I admit something to you?"

Sawyer was staring at the ceiling in his bedchamber. The breeze coming through the window was the same as it had been every other night this summer. It was cool, pushing away the heat from the day as it rustled across his bedsheets.

And yet, it was different.

Everything was different.

Because Blair was here. And they were married.

And naked. That was rather nice as well.

"Of course you may admit something to me, Sawyer."

Her head was on his chest, but he could sense that she was peering up at him beneath those thick lashes of hers.

"The thought of children normally repulses me," Sawyer confessed.

Blair snorted. "Oh, what a lovely thing to say to your new bride after you've just—"

"Normally, Blair," he cut in. "Normally." Sawyer sighed, realizing he likely should have sorted out his thoughts before beginning to blurt them. "But something happened to me when you were stubbornly refusing to marry me."

"Well, if you had simply asked," she muttered, but Sawyer ignored her.

"I imagined it, love," he said softly. "I imagined you carrying our child. I imagined a child that had our dark hair and your big, brown eyes." Sawyer tilted his head down so he could drop a kiss on her hairline. And in doing so, he caught her gaze. "I got all hot and uncomfortable, and my chest hurt. It hurt, Blair. To think that I might not get that."

Blair blinked at him, and it was like her eyes were visibly melting at his words. It pierced his heart to see, but only in the best of ways.

Sawyer dropped another kiss. "Darling, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I love you. And I love that we are married. Thank you."

His wife was quiet for several moments before her soft voice admitted, "I want them. I never would have thought it, either. But I want children. I want little Sawyers."

Smirking, Sawyer quickly rolled them over, tucking Blair beneath his chest as he pressed her into the bed. "Let's do something about that, then."

She swatted his chest. "You are incorrigible. We just did do something about that."

"You love it," he murmured against her lips. "My incorrigibleness."

She laughed, "Is that even a word?" 

"I do not know, nor do I care. Now, tell me. Do you love it?"

"Yes," she admitted, her voice husky and perfect. "And I love you too."

Sawyer let those words spread through him for a moment before pushing off of the bed.

"Where are you going?" Blair called after him.

Grabbing a washbasin and a cloth, Sawyer returned to her. There was still warm water left from their bath earlier, and Sawyer wet the fabric before peeling the covers from Blair's body.

"Sawyer?" she asked, watching him.

"I am doing what I should have," he said quietly.

He began washing her legs, making little circles as he traveled upward.

Blair replied in a hushed tone that matched his own. "What are you talking about?"

Sawyer sighed regretfully. "I took your maidenhood in the middle of a field like a brute. And I didn't even get a chance to ensure you were okay afterward."

Sawyer knew it wouldn't make up for it, and he knew it wasn't the same now. But still, he cleaned her, letting the warm cloth soothe between her legs where they'd been joined.

He peeked up at her. "Are you okay, love?"

Blair gave him a reassuring smile. "It's alright, Sawyer. I'm more than okay. More than okay."

And then Sawyer went about ensuring that Blair Ash—no, Blair Pearce—was much, much more than okay.

And he did so for the rest of their lives.

🤍
Some of these characters might be unfamiliar to if you haven't read the Before series. But I just had to throw them in!
There is one more chapter that I will release soon.
Thanks for reading!