“People are going to say horrid things about me.” She hadn’t thought all of this through. She’d lived most of her life under a cloak of invisibility. How would it feel to be the center of attention—and not the sort of attention one usually vied for?
“Yes.” He did not deny it. “We’ll remain in London for a few weeks into the Season. Unless you would prefer otherwise.”
“What will people say?” Goldie asked.
“They’ll say I couldn’t resist your charms. They’ll say that your new husband is little more than a common estate manager who couldn’t keep his desire in check.” His fingers trailed over her shoulders now, slowly, and his voice definitely sounded lower. “The bachelors will berate me for stealing you away before any of them had a chance to vie for your affections themselves.”
She felt his breath near her ear.
“Surely not—ah…”
His mouth landed on her neck and her heart fluttered. When he dropped his hands from her hair and wound them around her waist, she melted like butter.
“They will be right in their speculation,” he added.
The only nerves bothering her now were those of arousal. Nerves he’d awakened that craved more of his touch…
But just as she went to spin around in his arms, a knock sounded at her door. “Goldie! We should be going down now.” It was Caroline.
Goldie jumped away from Reed just before the door opened.
Caroline, a very astute young woman, glanced between the two of them with a knowing look. “Definitely time to be going. Reed, you walk over ahead of us. Your bride should be the last to arrive. It’s already bad enough you’ve seen her on your wedding day.”
Goldie barely stifled a hysterical laugh at this.
Because she hadn’t even realized it was her wedding day until after noon.
“You will be faced with a test. A test of courage. A test of faith. Your happiness depends on passing it.”
She only hoped this was the right test.
And she hoped Madam Zeta hadn’t been spouting a bunch of nonsense.
At the Altar
Reed tugged at his cravat, staring down the long aisle dividing the pews at St. George’s Cathedral.
From the altar.
Where he stood waiting for his bride!
“Helton will be outraged, initially.” West spoke softly from where he stood beside Reed.
“But he did not specify which of Crossings’ daughters I was to marry.”
“No, he did not,” West answered. “But it was implied.”
“A little late to second guess, wouldn’t you agree?” Reed lifted his chin and stretched his shoulders. Now was not the time to question his choice of bride. He’d known it was a gamble—she’d been his only option, really.
“You have the ring?”
“For the tenth time, yes.” West chuckled, and his amused tone echoed off the walls of this revered house of worship, which was mostly empty.
Reed winced. If this church were a ship, it would be listing to the groom’s side, where a smattering of guests sat—mostly his sisters and mother, but a few of his mother’s sisters as well.
The pews on the bride’s side gleamed shining and empty.
A bride who was the daughter of a duke.
