“I would ask if you had a rough night but the answer to that question appears rather evident, Your Grace,” Lane remarked while reaching for his silver brocade waistcoat. “How bad was the bout, and does your new wife-to-be know about your… secondary occupation.”
William reached for his cufflinks and stared at the emeralds set in gold. His jaw clenched, “I killed a man, Lane.”
From the corner of his eyes, he saw Lane’s hands clench on the clothing. “That is…. unfortunate.”
Dropping the cufflinks into the velvet box, William braced his palms on the edge of the dresser and ground his teeth. “Even worse, he gave me a message to give to some woman, but I have no idea who she is or where to find her.”
His manservant came closer to rest a hand on his shoulder. “I am sorry that… happened, but you must persevere. You have a wedding to attend, a new wife to attend to, and the rest of the competition to finish.”
“I—” William did not want to admit how much seeing the poor lad collapse and die before him had affected him, and the little smidge of bliss from early had him sinking to a chair and gazing out the window.
The hedges were overgrown, the outdoor buildings tumbledown and the walls had ivy as tangled as the emotions in his heart. He barely recognized when Lane returned and sat a glass of whisky before him.
“For courage,” Lane replied.
Reaching for it, William asked, “When you married your dear wife, did you feel… inadequate?”
“Undoubtedly,” Lane uttered. “My Hannah was a gentleman’s daughter, and I, a retired army man, but she loved me anyway, and her father was gracious enough to see that and allowed us to marry. We shared twenty-three years of happiness and were graced with a beautiful daughter, until she eventually passed on from this life. But heading to the altar on that special day long ago certainly had me questioning my character many a time.”
Sighing, William threw back the drink and reached for his cufflinks again. “The day I thought would never come has finally arrived. I wonder what else I thought would never happen will someday happen.”
“Oh, Bridget,” Josephine exclaimed as she stepped into the dressing room Bridget was waiting in. “You look… beautiful!”
Reflexively, she looked down at her wedding gown made of blue silk. It swept off her shoulders and cinched just below her bosom, highlighting the ample curve of her bustline. Miss Lane had pulled her hair back into a soft coif at her nape, allowing a few artful pieces to dance about her neck and shoulders, with a few fresh flowers tucked into the bun.
“She is absolutely right,” Ellie swept into the room not a moment later—her pale peach gown had blue silk trimming that complimented Bridget’s gown. “You are radiant.”
“My wedding.” She gave a rueful sigh. “Who would have thought this day would come? It was not planned, but I’m so glad to have made it to this moment.”
“A little gift,” Ellie pinned a gold brooch of a lily to Bridget’s bosom and gave her friend a peck on the cheek. “We are so happy to be here. We’ll go take our seats. I’d wish you luck, but you haven’t needed it thus far.”
“I pray this union will be more than a simple business arrangement,” Josie gently fixed her purple gown. “I hope the two of you find love somehow.”
I highly doubt that.
“We’ll see,” she replied vaguely. “I’ll be down shortly.”
With her two friends gone, she sat and allowed Miss Lane to line her eyes with kohl and a bit of color on her lips. “You are truly radiant. His Grace will love the sight of you.”
Bridget smiled warmly. “I hope so.”
A couple of minutes later, and with her maid's help, she descended the stairs to approach the sunroom, and upon stepping inside, she spotted William at the end of the room, standing before a makeshift altar. He was in a dapper dark suit and blue waistcoat, and two men she had never met stood at his side, both handsome men in dark suits and silver waistcoats.
These must be the friends he mentioned—the other rakes.
Her groom-to-be locked eyes with her and she gave him a timid smile. The other two shared a look that she could not decipher as admiration or dismission.
Not the time for that now.
Whoever had arranged the room had clearly taken inspiration from the garden beyond, as the aroma of the jasmine and gardenia plants did double duty, filling the room with their sweet fragrance.
When William finally took her hand, she joined him before the priest.
His eyes had changed—they were shuttered, a varied difference from how open they had been before. She would have vastly preferred to see a glimmer of interest in his eyes or even the wicked gleam she had seen a few times in the past.
Why is he so… distant? Isn’t this what he wanted?
CHAPTER 21
