The Bride (The Wedding Series) - By Christine Dorsey Page 0,26

as she saw it. Even though he had some of his men working on it, cleaning it and planting some flowers, it still was only a small cabin in the mountains. “I know it isn’t what you’re used to.”

She looked at him, her expression stricken and John’s stomach dropped. But her next words had him grinning. “I love it here, and I want to stay.”

His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her toward him. “We can do anything you like.” His lips brushed hers, then came back to linger. By the time they parted, they both had a difficult time catching their breath. “I think I’d like to go inside,” Eleanor said, then laughed as John lifted her into his arms.

Once in the bedroom it didn’t take them long to rid each other of their wedding clothes. They lay on the huge bed, the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows, admiring each other.

“You’re so beautiful.” John dipped his lips to the valley between Eleanor’s breasts and she wove her fingers through the raw-silk texture of his hair. “I have dreamed about this. About holding you and loving you.” His kiss roamed lower till she was writhing beneath him.

She was as responsive and loving as the time in the fisherman’s hut... the only time he’d touched her. For the month since they left Newport John had held his passion in check—showing a restraint he didn’t know he had. But now he was free to express his love for her to the fullest.

And he did, sinking into her body and watching her eyes as they both spiraled to an explosive release. His forehead touched hers. “I love you.”

“And I love you, too.”

John smiled and gathered her close. “I suppose our wedding wasn’t the proper affair, you thought you’d have.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Eleanor nestled her nose into the dark curls covering his chest. “We have love, John. I think that made it a very proper wedding.”

Please read on for an excerpt from The Wedding Cake.

The Wedding Cake

Cinnamon’s Wedding Cake

1........cup unsalted butter

1 1/4..cups superfine sugar

4........eggs, separated

4........cups all-purpose flour, sifted

1/4.....teaspoon cinnamon

4 1/2..cups dried fruit (apricots, currants)

1........cup candied orange peel

1/2.....cup walnuts, chopped

1........ounce compressed fresh yeast

2/3.....cup milk

Cream butter and sugar. Beat in egg yolks. Mix together flour and cinnamon and add in small portions (to prevent lumping) to the sugar mixture. Then beat in dried fruit, candied peel, and nuts, again in small portions.

Cream yeast with small amount of milk and add to cake mixture. Then add enough of the remaining milk to form a thick paste. Beat the egg whites until frothy and blend them into the cake mixture. Cover and let stand in warm place for 1 hour.

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Butter a 9-inch springform cake pan and line the bottom with parchment paper and butter the paper. Work the batter with hands to form stiff paste. Turn it into the pan and bake for 2 1/2 hours, or until skewer pushed into center comes out dry. During baking, cover cake with baking parchment if it is getting too dark.

For graduated layers use different size pans and multiply recipe accordingly.

Blissful Frosting

1 1/4....cups butter, softened

4..........cups powdered sugar, sifted

2..........teaspoons rose water

1 1/2....cups heavy cream, whipped

3..........candied flowers

Combine butter, 1 cup of sugar and rose water, beating at medium speed. Add remaining powdered sugar alternately with whipping cream, beating well with each addition. Beat at high speed until smooth.

Ice cooled cake and decorate with candied flowers.

One

Massachusetts, 1886

“For heaven’s sake, Biddy, would you hush up?” Cinnamon lifted a towel above her head and resumed slapping at the small fire on the kitchen floor. “Do you want the entire household to crash down on us?”

“Move back, lass.”

“What?” Cinnamon’s head turned at the sound of the unfamiliar male voice. “Who are you?”

“As I said, move out of the way.” The man delivered the words as he tossed water from the pantry bucket onto the burning mess.

“Ohhhh!” Cold seeped through Cinnamon’s petticoats, wetting her legs, soaking through her new kid boots. “What are you doing?” She looked down to see the stranger grabbing the hem of her sodden skirt. When she rapped his shoulder, he glanced up, giving her a smile that made her wet toes curl.

“Not much harm done, then,” he said in a voice softened by a Scottish burr. “Only scorched the outer layer.”

Not much harm done? Her gown was ruined—and her new boots with the ribbon lacings. “Look at me. I’m all wet!” Then something he’d said hit her. “Outer layer of what?” But the man, still