When Two Hearts Meet (Brightmore #2)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter 25

Cole's Letter

To His Excellency the Archbishop of Canterbury

It is not with some urgency that you will find my correspondence to you contrived, but rather with an unrelenting conviction sourced from deep within my soul, and I can only hope my words compel you to search your own and find the truth of my clumsy confessions.

You may have heard of me at court, and possibly words that have been little more than rumour have passed through loose lips to be met by your ears, but herein lies the truth of it all. I, Commander Cole Phillip Stanley, have fallen in love with an angel.

Her name is well-known in London's social circles. Miss Oriana Brightmore is of soft yet courageous nature, an empathetic soul who in turn shall only view the kindness and goodness of those surrounding her despite other glaring pretences. In the course of our brief courtship, I found myself unconventionally taken with her, and it is my- nay, our- deepest desire to wed at the soonest convenience.

I have seen the world, Your Excellency, and bore witness to the most astounding of beauties nature and humanity have had to offer, as well as the brutal and unforgiving. I have watched landscapes change from ice and blizzards to sand and heat in the space of a week, I have witnessed the search for wealth plunder a nation and its people yet still a man, with naught but the clothes on his back, help a beleaguered mother feed her child by providing her the last of his frugal provisions. I have witnessed the skies change, the lights in the north as they dance and swirl across the heavens, the storms of the cape as they crashed against my ship. I have survived wrecks only to be amazed at the beauty of life, marvel at the miraculous good fortune of my fate of survival when countless others were not as fortunate. I have seen beasts so large that they spanned the entirety of my ship; on land more than a colonial house, and yet nothing, nothing, is comparable to the awe I feel in my heart, my soul, for having found Miss Brightmore.

For she is light and love and goodness incarnate, and my life I would lay willingly at her feet for an eternity if she were mine, only mine, forevermore.

Oriana stopped reading and pressed the letter to her chest, a hard pressure in her throat as tears burned the corners of her eye, there was more, so much more, but to finish all of it in one sitting would crush her.

"Don't you dare cry," Imogen berated her, frantically fanning Oriana's face with her gloved hands before snapping open her fan. "I have only just reapplied the rouge!"

Ignoring her, Ori turned on her stool towards Dani. Both Imogen and Lady Ashcroft were dressed in modest gowns of lavender and matching coats to ward off the bite of winter, serving as her bridesmaids for the day of her wedding. "Cole gave you the letter?" she asked of Dani, somewhat astounded that her soon-to-be husband would ever divulge the contents of such intimate confessions to another.

Dani shook her head softly. "No, Rhys asked me to give you this," she explained. "I have not read it, though judging by your reaction I am sure it is lovely. I believe Rhys made a copy of the original transcription after Cole gave it to him to seal."

Suddenly, Imogen snatched the missive from Oriana's hand. "Imogen! Give it back!"

Imogen jumped a couple of steps away, grinning unrepentantly, as she began to open the parchment and scan its contents. "No, I simply must know what the good captain has written about my sister," she said wryly.

Oriana cast a look to her mother, who was reclining with a glass of champagne, on a chaise longue in the corner of the room, thoroughly cocooned in the happiness of a mother who was satisfied with one of her offspring, who had been firmly sitting on the shelf, about to be wed. "Mother, you must tell Imogen to return my letter! It is private."

Ophelia Brightmore simply raised her brows. "Dear, you know as well as I do that Imogen does not listen to me."

"IS IT DIRTY?" Great Aunt Beatrix hollered from beside her, peering intently at Imogen.

"Sadly, no," Imogen mumbled, returning the letter to its rightful recipient. "It is rather lovely, though. Who knew that Captain Stanley could contrive such prose?"

"He is... rather romantic," Oriana confessed, folding the parchment and tucking it securely inside her vanity. She would likely treasure it for years to come, reading it over and over until the paper was so creased and used it would likely turn to silk and disintegrate in her fingers.

The thought suddenly crossed her mind and her back stiffened. "Good God," Oriana breathed, "he... he wrote this while we were... while we were apart! While he was possibly breaking and hating me, he found those words!"

Imogen looked at Dani, confused. Oriana had told no one of what transpired between her and Cole, and only Rhys and Danielle knew the extent of their misunderstanding, but she was not about to explain now.

Oriana stood up suddenly and strode quickly to the door of her chamber, the silks of her glistening white wedding gown whispering across the carpets. "Oriana!" Ophelia called out in surprise. "Wherever are you off to?"

Aunt Beatrix's suggestive cackle followed in her wake as she actively chose to ignore her mother, making her way quickly down the passage with Plank devotedly at her heel. The great mastiff had been groomed resplendently for the occasion, his coat gleaming and a wreath of pretty white flowers tied around his collar.

Oriana didn't bother announcing her entrance to his chambers, simply entered as she had done so countless times over the nights leading up to their wedding. However, there appeared to be an abundance of finely clad gentlemen in Cole's chambers, all imbibing happily and all turning shockingly silent upon noticing her standing, a bit dumbstruck, on the threshold.

Cole emerged from between her brother, Owen Brightmore, the Earl of Falmouth and Lord Sebastien Weatherly, the men parting easily to allow him to move freely across the distance separating him from her. Belatedly, Oriana remembered to curtsy, ridiculous as it may seem in the situation, murmuring, "Gentlemen," as way of greeting and received the quick reception of five awkward, finely attired, bows in return.

Cole's lips quivered with a smile as he guided her from the chamber, closing the door so that they were afforded some privacy in the passage outside. "Unconventional, Oriana, but I'll allow the slip considering how marvellous you look," he said, his eyes taking her all in. The dress was simple yet elegant, pearlescent white and flowing gossamer silks covering her arms and body. Her hair was styled intricately, artful little pearl clips holding strands in place, while some curled gracefully over her shoulders.

Her appearance, she thought, hardly compared to his- undeniably spectacular in a formal black coat and breeches. He looked so well put together that it made her wonder if he was indeed a gentleman all along and not a rugged captain prone to years on end at sea.

She threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed him. Cole did not resist, his hands settling on her back, pressing her body to his.

"I just... I just needed to do that," she breathed against his lips, all the ardent words of his letter rushing through her mind.

"You may do that as often as you please," he teased, returning her kiss in earnest. "Has something happened that you felt compelled to besiege me with kisses mere moments before our ceremony, darling?" Drawing slightly away from her, he rested his head against hers and met her eyes with his, grinning.

"Nothing untoward," Oriana said, stroking the back of his neck. "Dani showed me your letter... the one you wrote to the Archbishop of Canterbury." At his questioning look, she continued, "Rhys made a copy, it seems, to keep... for me."

"Indeed." There was humour in the dryness of his tone, though Ori thought he may have some choice words for the Earl of Falmouth.

"Did you mean what you wrote?" she pressed. "You sent the letter during... well, we weren't exactly amicable."

"Every word was the truth, Ori." For emphasis, he kissed her slowly, lovingly, before parting and stepping away from her. Plank made a gruff sound as he nudged his head against his master's thigh, compelling Cole to study his hound, then flick his gaze to hers. "What the hell have you done to my dog?"

~The End~