He drew his hand back.
“Don’t you dare touch her!”
The voice rang out from the back of the church, high and clear and desperate.
Victoria burst through the doors, her traveling cloak flying behind her as she ran down the aisle. She threw herself at Joan, wrapping her arms around her sister in a protective embrace.
The crowd erupted into chaos. Voices rose in confusion and scandal and delight at the unexpected drama.
Julian laughed. “So this is what it is. A setup. You planned this to humiliate me!”
Joan looked over Victoria’s head, trying to understand what was happening. “Victoria, why are you here? You were supposed to stay in the country.”
“I won’t let you marry him,” Victoria sobbed against Joan’s shoulder. “I won’t. I can’t.”
“She doesn’t have a choice,” Julian snarled. He reached for Joan again, his fingers grasping.
“Touch her, and I will personally remove your hands from your body.”
The voice was deep, cold, and utterly commanding. It cut through the chaos like a blade through silk.
Everyone turned.
Laurence stood in the church doorway. Beside him was Hugo St. Vincent, Duke of Ravenvale. Both men were dressed impeccably, and both wore expressions of deadly intent.
Joan felt her heart stop, then restart with a painful lurch. What are they doing here? How did they…
She clutched Victoria tighter, staring at Laurence in shock.
Julian lowered his hand slowly, his face going pale despite the blood still dripping from his nose. He forced a nervous laugh.
“Your Grace! What an unexpected… that is, I don’t recall extending you an invitation, but of course you are most welcome.”
“Am I?” Laurence’s voice was dangerously soft. He walked down the aisle with measured steps, Hugo following close behind. “I was not aware I required your permission to attend any gathering in London.”
“No, no, of course not,” Julian stammered. “There has been a small… misunderstanding. A bit of family drama. Nothing to concern yourself with. It will be sorted momentarily.”
Laurence’s gaze found Joan’s. Even across the distance, she felt the intensity of it, the question, the concern, the barely restrained fury on her behalf.
“This wedding will not proceed,” Laurence said, his voice carrying easily through the church. “The guests may depart.”
Julian’s face flushed red. “Now see here, Your Grace. I understand you are a man of considerable influence, but this is my wedding. You cannot…”
“Can’t I?”
The two words held such quiet menace that several people in the front pews visibly recoiled.
“You may be powerful,” Julian continued, his voice rising with desperation, “but even you cannot abuse your authority in such a manner! This is a private matter!”
The irony,Joan thought with almost hysterical amusement.He’s accusing another of abusing power.
“Everyone, please remain seated!” Julian called out to the assembled guests. “There has been a misunderstanding, but I assure you, this wedding will proceed as planned. Your Grace, I must ask you to leave.”
“I would strongly suggest,” Hugo said mildly, “that you take the Duke’s advice. Send everyone home. Call off this farce of a wedding. It is in your best interest.”
“I will not be bullied!” Julian’s voice cracked slightly. “This wedding must proceed!”
Hugo glanced at Laurence, who nodded slightly. Hugo clapped his hands once.
