What shocked her more was that he went to stand with Cassian, greeting the other man with a familiar ease.
“Who is that man, Father?” She asked. “And how does Marcus know him?”
“Benjamin Hadleigh, Earl of Somerton,” he answered. “I believe Marcus said they’d met during his first years at University, and they kept in touch even after he left.”
“Wonderful…” she muttered under her breath.At least I am saving his lecture too.
Her friends went to stand on the other half of the pulpit, and when the organ music began, her father led her down the aisle.
Cassian studied the new Cecilia without shame.
Her opinion of his character notwithstanding, she looked lovely. Incredibly irate butlovely.
He was not enthused about this marriage but assumed it would give to not only right the wrongs he had done to her, but also givehim time to force her to admit the feelings she once harbored for him.
He knew she had them—even if they were buried deep inside.
Where is the young naïf that looked at me with such infatuation?
The rose silk nestled against her petite body seductively, emphasizing her tiny waist and pushing her delectable breasts up in an almost wanton manner. And she did have a tendency toward wantonness; he’d experienced such a thing firsthand when she’d kissed him.
The little wallflower is a bit wanton, isn’t she? I hope it doesn’t always take getting her tipsy with sherry to pull it out of her.
The ceremony passed by him in a haze as he only paid attention to the most important parts.
I wonder what she will do when I tease and taunt her. I know for sure she never had anyone be her lover.
The priest intoned, “Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
As the priest paused, he held Cecilia’s hand and slipped the wedding ring on her finger. “I do.”
When the question was turned to her, the pointed pause before she replied told him she was still ruing the day she had kissed him by mistake.
“I do,” she said finally while fitting his broader, flatter ring on his hand.
The death knell of his bachelorhood Cassian anticipated to hear felt more like a gnat buzzing in his ear. It was not a demise, only a small delay before he could regain his standing.
A sixty-day delay.
“You may kiss the bride,” the priest declared.
And get my face clawed off.Leaning in, he brushed his lips across her cheek, while wondering if the only way she would kiss as passionately as she did that night was to ply her with sherry.
Pulling away, she gave him a warning look that he ignored.
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the priest announced.
The smattering of applause did not seem to comfort her as her finger sank into his bicep as they walked from the pulpit to sign the register.
“I hope you are not thinking of whiling the wedding breakfast away as we need to leave to get to the country house before night.” He dropped his voice so only she could hear.
“Not even for a slice of cake or a glass of champagne?” Cecilia asked dully.
“Wecan,” he offered, “and during that brief respite, you can have the very delightful conversation with your brother I am sure he is bristling to the brim to have with you.”
Instantly, she stiffened. “I think I’ll take my glass of champagne with me.”
“Good choice,” he shrugged. Plucking a fobwatch from his inner pocket, he looked at the time, “You have five minutes to say your farewells.”
