As though that explained anything.
“And as for something new…” Amy moved closer, trying to maneuver an object out of her pocket.
“I’ll take her,” Caithren offered, reaching for Jewel. Kendra thought she cuddled her niece rather wistfully. Cait and Jason had been married for nearly a year, yet there was still no sign of a babe.
Amy finally extricated a bracelet from her pocket—smooth-polished ovals of amber set in heavy gold links. Studded with sparkling diamonds, the circlet glittered in her hand. “A wedding gift,” she said, “from your future husband. Colin asked me to pass it on to you.”
“This isn’t a real wedding. And as for new, it doesn’t look it.”
“It isn’t,” Amy said in the confident tones of a skilled jeweler. “The cut of the diamonds tells me it’s actually very old. But new to you. And it cannot hurt to wear it.” The golden stones seemed to glow from within, secrets of past centuries locked inside their translucent depths. “When Colin gave it to me, he said it would be quite fitting.”
Amy looked curious, but Kendra wasn’t about to admit she thought of Trick as the amber highwayman. How had Colin known? Had she said something inadvertently? She was usually careful about such things.
“I cannot believe the lengths your husband will go to in planning his practical jokes.” She reluctantly held out her arm. “Itisbeautiful.”
After Amy fastened the clasp, Kendra turned her wrist, watching the diamonds catch the light. Surely the bracelet wasn’t really Trick’s, which meant she could make her brothers let her keep it after this farce of a wedding was called off. For putting her through this, they owed her that much.
It would remind her of the amber man, of the passion she’d felt ever so briefly in his arms. It would remind her not to settle for less—not to let her brothers pressure her into a loveless marriage, no matter how hard they tried.
She touched the amber pensively—warm, it somehow seemed—and drifted over to her dressing table. Watching herself in the mirror, she settled a gossamer lace veil over her hair and drew it down, tucking the ends into the sides of her neckline to secure it.
Her brothers wanted her to play the part of a blushing bride, and a blushing bride they’d get. She leaned closer. Pale, too. Which was ridiculous—this was but a game.
“No, poppet,” Amy said, reattaching one of the tabs on Caithren’s stomacher where Jewel’s pudgy fingers had managed to unfasten it.
Kendra turned to the door. “Shall we get this little drama over with?”
Nine
“NERVOUS, MAN?”
“Hell, no.” Trick shot Ford a smile—a confident one, he hoped. The shakiness in his legs must be a symptom of last night’s overindulgence. He clenched his fists to keep his hands from giving him away, then shoved them into the pockets of his midnight blue velvet surcoat.
More fitted than the current style, he’d last worn the suit a few years ago in Paris, for one of those blasted social occasions his father insisted he attend to further the “business.” A time in his life that Trick would rather not remember, but he had only one other formal suit at his home in the countryside, and he’d be damned if he’d wed in his highwayman clothes.
His gaze swept over the groomed lawn of Cainewood Castle’s quadrangle, then darted away when he spotted the parson, hands clasped behind his back. He seemed a kind enough sort, but the sight of him made Trick’s stomach lurch. He looked back to Ford…but, nay, he’d as soon not look at Ford, either. Kendra’s twin and most certainly the man who knew her best.
Instead he focused on the ancient keep, the worn stone a comforting reminder of the strength of Kendra’s line. Four hundred years the Chases had lived here, save during the Commonwealth. Unlike himself, Kendra knew who she was and what she had come from.
Aye, their children would surely benefit from that sort of security. Lord knew he had nothing of the kind to offer. He’d always thought of himself as a mongrel.
A mangy one.
Distracted by the bang of a thick oak door, he turned to see Kendra descending Cainewood’s front steps.
A vision in a sky-blue gown, she glided his way. The shimmering silk overskirt opened down the front to reveal an underskirt of costly silver tissue—he knew the expense, having bolts of the very fabric stacked in his London warehouse. The sleeves were double-puffed with a spill of silver lace at the wrists, which had made its way from Italy, if he didn’t miss his guess.
Swathed within the lace, her hands looked small. In fact, everything about her looked small. He hadn’t noticed that before.
He hadn’t had time to notice much of anything, he told himself, watching the blush creep up from her low, scooped neckline. He met her eyes. A pretty shade of light green, they looked nervous and wary, but as they locked with his, a hint of interest—and maybe desire?—seemed to kindle in their depths.
Answering warmth stole up his neck, and he knew he was turning a dusky red. Deliberately looking away, Kendra walked toward the family’s small private chapel, Jason and Colin at her sides. Their wives trailed behind, a tiny, pink-dressed girl holding their hands, tripping along and giggling between them.
In no time at all, Trick found himself mounting the chapel’s stone steps. Inside, sunshine streamed through brilliant-colored windows to cast the sanctuary in rainbow hues. Squaring his shoulders, he went to face the parson. Jason and Colin kissed their sister before Ford walked her to join Trick at the altar, delivering her into his care with a kiss and a hug and something whispered into her ear that Trick wished he could hear.
Kendra shook her head and rolled her eyes as she pulled away.
Every inch of Trick was aware of her proximity. Just standing beside her, his body heated. Her fiery hair was covered by a fine lace veil that framed her face, the ends tucked into her neckline. Trick reached for her hand, feeling it cold and clammy in his.
