Since she wasn’t yet one and twenty, her father’s signature would have been forged. Reed had not courted her as she deserved, let alone met with Crossings.
Reed tugged at his cravat, but that didn’t loosen the squeezing in his chest.
It was wrong on so many levels, but there was nothing Reed could do about it now. He’d have to make it up to her sometime in the future.
Movement at the back caught his attention, and the door pushed open. Caroline stepped inside first. She’d happily volunteered to act as a witness.
And after his sister had arrived at the altar and stepped aside, Reed shifted his gaze to the back of the church and caught sight of Goldie. She stood in the open door looking alone—exposed. Even from a distance, he saw her hesitation. Was she having second thoughts?
But then she straightened her shoulders and stepped forward.
He’d seen her gown already, when he’d gone to her chamber earlier, but it radiated more brilliantly in the flickering candles lit around the sanctuary.
No—it was Goldie who radiated. His breath caught in his throat.
Spending time with her these past few days had lifted his heart like nothing else. The thought took him by surprise.
She’d brought sunshine back into his life.
And as she neared, her features came into focus. Dark lashes fringed her eyes, which danced with that increasingly familiar myriad of golds and greens and browns. He smiled as he noticed her pert little nose, rousing a pink flush to her adorable heart-shaped face.
And then she smiled at him—with lips that were ripe and rosy and far too kissable.
The effect sent heat shooting through his veins, and Reed exhaled. She was more than pretty. She was sweet and intelligent, and more courageous than any woman he’d ever known.
She was defying her father—the Duke of Crossings—for him.
Her trusting gaze held his, and he determined then and there that he would do all in his power to prevent her from ever regretting it. She liked his family. That was a good beginning.
And from their approving looks from where they sat on the left side of the church, it was obvious they liked her just as much.
Goldie ignored the empty pews on the bride’s side. Was that why she kept her gaze fixed on the altar, on him? She looked so small and vulnerable. A bride ought to have her father at her side. No doubt, she felt the absence of her family.
Unwilling to watch her walking alone a second longer, Reed stepped down from the altar, covered the short distance between them, and reached out for her hand. And as he escorted her the remainder of the distance, he gave her hand a squeeze. Everything will be fine—better than fine, actually.
She glanced up at him and his heart swelled. With gratitude? Or was it something else?
In the flickering candlelight from the sconces on the wall, Goldie’s complexion took on an ethereal appearance.
He would eternally be grateful that her sister had left London. Goldie was his perfect bride.
Being with her came naturally. Touching her excited him. She’d wanted him to kiss her again before Caroline had barged in. Would she allow him into her bed tonight?
Together they stood before the priest, and the ceremony began.
He’d sat through dozens of wedding services in the past, not absorbing the solemnity or celebration of the vows. But with Goldie, he listened closely, and recited them from his heart.
And when it came time to slide the ring on her finger, he felt an excitement he hadn’t expected. Would their wedding night serve up all the promise her kisses had held?
What he’d assumed to be some sort of punishment wasn’t a punishment at all. Reed blinked down at their hands. As long as Helton considered Reed marrying Goldie an equally newsworthy story, Reed’s worries would be over.
His marriage would have put the suspicions about the fire to rest once and for all.
His bride slid a gold band onto his finger.
Goldie, however, would be tied to him, and be tainted by the scandal as his wife.
Reed was standing in a house of God, his heart racing like any besotted bridegroom, emerging from his family’s tragedy at his bride’s expense.
