Cards & Caravans by Cindy Spencer Pape

your days. Besides, the Order takes care of its own. You’ll never have to struggle to survive again.” He had to remember to get a marriage settlement written before midnight—one that would keep Belinda secure, no matter what. Likely, his father was already drawing it up.
    “I don’t give a fig about your money,” Belinda said. “I just don’t want to mourn another husband.”
    Warmth filled his heart. He believed her. She didn’t want him for his money or family status, but oh, she wanted him. He could see that in the way her breath fluttered when he soothed her bitten lip with his thumb. “Life is always uncertain. Accident or illness can happen to anyone. None of us knows how much time we have.” Even in this so-called modern age, women died in childbirth all the time. For a moment, he entertained the hope that Belinda might not fall pregnant. It was astonishing, given the speed of their so-called courtship, but already he didn’t want to lose her. “Don’t turn craven on me now, please. We’ve a wedding in, oh, ten hours or so.”
    “I know that, of course. Micah was not quite fifty when he died. Still a young man by most standards.” She withdrew her hands from his, folded them in her lap and gave him a quirky half smile. “I’m not a coward, and I gave my word. I can manage on my own when you’re gone on your missions. I’m no hothouse flower who needs constant tending. Speaking of flowers, does your house in Edinburgh have a garden?”
    “A small patch.” He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Not what you’re used to, of course. We’ll have to look for something bigger anyway, if or when we start a family. Then you can choose your own garden.”
    She lifted one eyebrow as if to remind him that having children might not be in their future. “A small patch would be fine. You won’t want your wife to be in trade, so I’ll only need enough herbs and flowers for my own use.”
    “Oh, I’m sure you’ll find plenty of customers without resorting to a barrow in the market if you want to keep making your creams and tinctures.” Even the squire had acknowledged the efficacy of Belinda’s herbal products. “My grandmother, for one, plus Melody and my mother. Geneva when she visits. She might want to stock up on things to take back to Torkholm with her, since she doctors the whole island. The wives and daughters of our friends. The Order itself may even purchase some of your healing salves. I’ll not stop you from doing what you enjoy. Many of the younger women I know maintain professions, including my sisters, and several of them after marriage. You’ll meet a couple more tonight.” Including Wink. He hoped Belinda wouldn’t sense Connor’s feelings for the other woman. She didn’t deserve that, particularly not on her wedding night.
    That thought reminded him of something else. He stood and tugged on her hand. “Come on. I have something else to show you.” Connor’s own dog, a two-year-old male, joined them as they walked. The young bitch followed at Belinda’s side. His father must have brought Rowan up from town. Connor scratched Rowan’s wiry head and gestured to the younger dog. “Would you’d like Willow there for a wedding present? She seems to have chosen you. If your cat won’t mind being with dogs, that is.” He supposed he could leave Rowan here, if Belinda didn’t want the deerhounds in their home, but he hoped he wouldn’t have to.
    She grinned and leaned down to look into Willow’s eyes. “Really? Willow, would you like to come live with me in Edinburgh?” The dog wagged its tail and licked Belinda’s face, making her laugh. “Well, I guess that’s settled. You’re sure your grandparents won’t mind you giving away their dog?”
    Connor shook his head. “The dogs usually choose for themselves as they grow up, although most of them decide to stay with the family. If Willow wants you, that will be that. She and Rowan get on, so