“It is a new world to me too. Must we engage with it though?” Selina asked.
Marcus pulled away from her to look into her face. She gazed up at him innocently. That innocence was incredibly alluring given what they had been doing not so long ago. He could not look at that sweet, beautiful face and not see the naked, luscious body. Or remember the feel of her hands scratching his back, her legs around his waist. A blossom of color spread through her cheeks as though she’d had the same thought.
“What do you mean?” Marcus asked, stroking a stray lock of hair back from her forehead.
“We have each other. We are intelligent and with no little ambition. Can we not make a name for Valebridge and Roy on our own? Do we need to move in court circles or fraternize with the ton in order to rebuild the family reputation?” Selina said.
Marcus scoffed. “Well, of course we do…” then he trailed off, frowning.
It’s an interesting notion, one I had never really considered. I had only ever thought of acceptance by the ton and equated that with a restored reputation.
“As a married man to a woman from a respectable family, you would have standing that you don’t currently have. And together we could embark on whatever crusade we wish that will mean a legacy for our family, the Roy family.”
Marcus was looking into the distance, seeing this new idea, a slow smile spreading across his face. “It would also preclude having to socialize with people who knew Arthur. Thus, there is less risk of the truth being revealed,” Marcus mused.
“Until such time as you can prove your claim to the Dukedom and your identity as a son of Jeffrey Roy,” Selina suggested.
Marcus hugged her close and she laughed, delighted and returning the embrace with the same fierceness. After the embrace they looked at each other, smiling as they gazed into each other’s eyes.
“This day has transformed. I left London on the horns of blackmail and having discovered that my mother had died in an insane asylum. I found my wife kidnapped and fought with her father. The last couple of hours is certainly an improvement,” Marcus said.
Selina offered a sympathetic smile, stroking his cheek. “For me too, actually. I honestly thought that my father was going to have me locked up until I could be forced to marry Christleton. I don’t know how they thought to force me to do that, but they clearly planned it all.”
“I shudder to think. I suppose now that I am here, I can see your wedding dress that you had written to me about,” Marcus suggested, “the modiste is one of the very best. So good that he does not even need to locate himself in London. His clients seek him out. He told me that he could have his premises on the Outer Hebrides and his customers would follow him.”
“You may not. Don’t you know that it’s bad luck!” Selina exclaimed.
“Oh, we don’t believe in that, do we?” Marcus asked.
“We do,” Selina said firmly, “what’s more, we must remain in separate beds until the night of our wedding. I insist. It would not be proper otherwise.”
Marcus looked at her with a raised eyebrow. From a woman who wore breeches so that she could ride astride a horse like a man, it seemed odd for her to be so reluctant to break with tradition. She lifted her head to look at him levelly.
“I will not be moved on this,” she said with a tone of mock severity that carried genuine determination beneath it.
Marcus nodded gravely. “I understand. Under protest then. Until Saturday, this will not be repeated.”
Selina nodded somberly, then added. “I merely said we cannot share a bed… I did not saythiscould not happen.”
Marcus’ mouth fell open and Selina’s clamped tight shut as she tried to contain laughter. It exploded from her, nonetheless.
CHAPTER26
The day of the wedding arrived and the heavens seemed to smile. Selina awoke to a perfect blue sky. A few tufts of cloud dotted the sky but did not threaten rain, simply ambled by. A gentle breeze carried the scents of the garden in through the open bedroom window, along with cut grass. Selina had slept with the curtains open in order to be awakened by the sun shining in through the window. Before it was more than its own height above the hills, she was out of her bed and calling for wash water. Gracie had shared her bed that night, to be on hand as soon as her mistress awoke. She had run smiling with excitement to fetch hot water while Selina stripped and washed in the cold water left from the night before. Then a steaming bath and the long process of dressing.
She could well imagine that her dressmaker was a much sought-after master of his craft. It was simply stunning. White but glittering with precious stones as small as pinpricks. The effect was a glittering constellation woven into her veil, the bodice of her dress, and the skirt. It covered her to the chin and to the hands with lace and trailed behind her. Selina, with Gracie’s help, had curled her hair into bouncing ringlets that framed her face. The golden hue of her hair contrasting perfectly with her sky-blue eyes. Finally, she stood before the full-length dress mirror in her bedchamber and admired herself.
I cannot believe that it is me standing here. I feel like I am looking at something out of a fairy tale. A fairy princess perhaps.
Gracie had tears in her eyes as she looked at her mistress, hands clasped before her.
“Simply stunning, Selina,” she said, dabbing at her eyes.
“I hope Marcus likes it,” Selina said.
Then she froze, her mouth hanging open. She met Gracie’s gaze in the mirror. Gracie was frowning at her, puzzled. Selina whirled to face the maid and then fell to her knees before her, taking her hands.
“You cannot tell anyone. Please, Gracie, as my friend. I am begging you…”
