Chapter Thirty-one
Ramsey was quite certain of three things:
One: the wedding breakfast was another word for the Catholic’s purgatory.
Two: If he had to wait more than an hour, he was going to make a spectacle of himself as he hightailed it out of the house with his wife.
Three: simply a repetition of number one, purgatory. Or hell, it might be hell.
In fact, as he thought of it, hell was a much better description. Because heaven was near, but out of reach.
For the moment.
Bloody hell, how long did it take to eat breakfast anyway?
He glanced over to Heathcliff, who was watching him with a knowing grin.
Bastard, he knew the torment.
Ramsey cut his gaze over to Lucas, who was watching him as well. Only the idiot lifted his glass of champagne in salute.
He needed better friends.
No. That wasn’t true, but he did need to get out of the Kilpatrick House so that he might finally have some privacy with his wife.
Dear Lord, how he loved to say it. Never did he think he’d see the day, but here he was.
He turned to watch Grace. She was utterly beautiful, a siren if he ever saw one, and all his. Her eyes had been alight with wonder, delight, and emotion as she saw the garden all decorated with her “kaleidoscope of color,” as Samantha had said. And he loved the touch of the irises, it was duly appropriate. And her gown, he was utterly undone the moment he saw it. It was bold, vibrant, colorful, and full of life, just like her. It was Grace’s character, in color form and perfect.
The vicar wasn’t even half bad. He’d been utterly grateful when he noted it wasn’t the same as Lucas had used . . . thank the Lord for small favors.
All in all, the wedding was perfect. Now if he could just suffer through the wedding breakfast, the world would be damn near perfect as well.
At least his world.
They were finishing the last course when Heathcliff stood, raising his glass.
“Never thought I’d see the day, and I can’t tell you how thankful I am to be wrong. I give you my sincerest blessing, and my greatest gift—” he winked, “—an early end to the wedding breakfast.”
Ramsey chuckled.
Lucas lifted his glass. “Hear, hear!”
The ladies giggled and Ramsey lost no time standing and giving his thanks. “Have I mentioned you’re my favorite friend, Heathcliff?” Ramsey teased, moving to pull out Grace’s seat.
“It was my idea,” Lucas replied dryly.
“It was a group effort,” Heathcliff amended.
“Then I thank you both and you both have the deepest appreciation from the bottom of my heart.” Ramsey gave a little bow as Grace waited beside him.
“Ach, be gone with you. Save your pretty words.”
“And your strength,” Lucas chimed in.
Ramsey was quite certain he heard Lady Liliah groan with embarrassment, but he didn’t turn to see if he was accurate in his assessment. He was already heading out the door with Grace.
His carriage was already out front, waiting, and Ramsey decided that his friends needed some fantastic French brandy for their thoughtfulness, a detail he’d see to much later.
