After those few heady moments in the garden, she fled into the house, afraid to speak to anyone for fear her happiness would spill into indiscretion. After a brief meal of bread and cheese, Dominic went ahead with Michael to the church, leaving Harrington behind to accompany her. If they were seen together at the church, they would say that Michael, as a guest, had wished to see the estate.
Minuette was so overwrought with nerves and excitement that she barely noticed Carrie’s unusual quietness, until she came out into the forecourt and found three horses, not two, standing patiently. Harrington and Carrie were already mounted.
She opened her mouth to order Carrie off, and caught Harrington’s eye. “I’ve already tried,” he said gruffly.
“You’re not leaving me behind,” Carrie told her, her soft brown eyes and round cheeks looking unnaturally stern. “Not today.”
It seemed Carrie knew all. Had always known, perhaps. And she was right, Minuette did not want her left behind. It would be comforting to have another woman present, especially a woman who had known her mother so well.
And two witnesses were better than one.
It was a point she had to make to Dominic, when his face darkened at the sight of one more person in on their secret. But he was too practical to debate the issue—as long as Carrie knew anyway, she might as well stay.
And it was Carrie who had the second biggest surprise of the day, wrapped in soft linen on the floor of the carved quire. She shooed the men out of the church and told them not to come near until she called.
As she undid the ties binding the fluidly bulky package, she explained to Minuette. “I knew how it would be the moment I laid eyes on the priest. Hard to mistake him, however he dresses. Anyway, I’ve had this ready for some months. It was only a matter of wrapping it and asking Edward to ride over here while the two gentlemen were eating.”
“Edward?”
Carrie blushed, as if caught in an indiscretion. “Harrington, I mean.”
Minuette looked thoughtfully at her maid. So that was the way of things, was it? But Carrie had the linen undone now, and the sight of what lay within made all other thoughts slip away.
Cloth-of-silver, gleaming in the dusty interior of the church like moonlight poured out and caught in fabric. “Not the best condition,” Carrie explained, “being folded and wrapped like that, but much more suitable than a riding habit.”
Minuette had seen this dress before, as a child. “Is that…”
“Your mother wore it for her first wedding, so she told me, and on special occasions after. She put it away when your father died, and I found it where she’d left it. Needed a little mending, but not much. And all the jewels are still there.”
Indeed, the square neckline was bound an inch deep on each side with rubies and sapphires, their deep colours blazing against the silver paleness of the fabric itself. Minuette touched the bodice gently with one finger, too moved to speak.
Carrie smiled. “I know a dress is just a dress. I know his lordship would marry you in your shift and never mind it. But I thought you’d like this.”
Minuette did like it. And so, to judge by his expression when he saw her, did Dominic. He stopped for a long moment in the open doorway, his eyes sweeping over her where she stood, trembling, in front of the altar.
His hand, when he grasped hers, was warm and reassuring. In a clear, sonorous Latin that made Minuette feel as though her mother were just over her shoulder somewhere, watching, Father Michael began.
“Lo, brethren, we are come here before God and His angels, in the face and presence of our mother Holy Church, for to couple and unite these two bodies together, that is to say, of this man and of this woman, that they be from this time forth but one body and two souls in the faith and law of God and Holy Church, for to deserve everlasting life, whatsoever that they have done here before.”
If Dominic hadn’t known better, he’d have thought he was drunk. It wasn’t the single glass of wine he had with dinner, either, because he’d been feeling this way for hours—since the moment he’d seen Minuette in that silvery dress, standing in the shell of a church like a statue come to life. With coloured sunlight pouring through the windows and lighting her hair like a votive candle, he had made his vows in a state of pleasant intoxication that had not left him since.
She wore the gown at dinner. The old housekeeper commented on it innocently enough, and how much Minuette looked like her mother, but she seemed too simple to suspect anything so far-fetched as a clandestine marriage. Or perhaps, he thought, she is like all the Wynfield folk—prepared to believe that whatever Minuette does must be right. He imagined that if they told Mistress Holly of their marriage, her only response would be, “How nice. Have some more pudding.”
They ate alone (Michael had generously asked to be served in his room) but were careful to sit far enough apart that touching was impossible. Dominic did not mind. Now that she was his, he could wait.
As soon as the table was cleared, Minuette dismissed the housekeeper and Carrie for the night. She beat Dominic twice at chess while they waited for the household to settle into quietness around them.
Minuette took a candle in hand and, in a voice that was almost steady, said, “I shall be in my chamber.”
Dominic rose and kissed her on the top of her head. “I’ll give you a few minutes.”
When she had gone, he paced the length of the hall, refusing to let his mind wander past the sound of his feet on the flagstones, trying to match his breathing to his even steps.
He traversed the hall back and forth a dozen times before making his way through darkened corridors to Minuette’s chamber. There was no answer when he knocked.
“Minuette?” he called softly.
Her voice came from just the other side of the door, sounding half exasperated. “I sent Carrie to bed.”
