This simple wedding ceremony to Jasper could hardly be any more different from the one her father had arranged between her and Dewberry.
“It’s called a Luckenbooth and the storekeeper says it’s tradition for the groom to give one to his bride. Legend is that Lord Darnley gifted one to Mary, Queen of Scots as a symbol of his love and devotion.” He shrugged. “I thought you might like it.” Jasper shuffled and searched her eyes as though he was uncertain. As though he was not completely confident in her response.
In that moment, the last of Nia’s doubts fled. “I love it.” And as she fumbled with the clasp, she asked, “Will you help me pin it on?”
“If you’ll hold these.” Jasper removed his gloves and deftly fastened the silver pin onto the edge of her bodice. The touch of his skin where it brushed hers sent heat swirling inside her, reminding her of the night they’d spent together.
“Thank you.” Practically overcome with emotion, her voice came out little more than a whisper.
Jasper swallowed hard. He, too, was affected by the solemnity of this occasion.
Then, clearing his throat as he slid his hands back into his leather gloves, he gestured toward the door so that she could enter ahead of him. “Shall we, then?”
“Absolutely.” Nia curtsied with a flourish and, noting his look of approval, stepped inside.
The scent of smoke greeted her first, and then she saw a stocky man with gray hair tied away from his face. “Ah, I see you’ve returned with your bride.” The blacksmith approached from behind a worktable and held out one hand for Jasper to shake.
Nia had expected the blacksmith to be covered in soot, much as his occupation suggested, but he wore a clean white shirt and waistcoat, with no signs of grime on his actual person. He even wore spectacles propped on the end of his nose, giving him the appearance of a clerk or mercantile merchant.
The ceiling was black with a combination of ash and age, and heavy tools hung on the brick walls. A wooden pedestal featured an anvil in the center of the room, illuminated by light coming in from the single window but also a fire burning in a large hearth on the opposite wall.
“Indeed, it seems I won’t be left standing at the anvil,” Jasper joked, taking the man’s hand in his gloved one.
“Then I suppose we ought to get down to business before she changes her mind.” The man winked and then removed a few papers from a nearby drawer. “The ceremony is very simple, really. Just a few questions and it’ll be done.”
“Right here?” Nia’s eyes darted around the room.
“Right here,” the man answered and then dipped his quill into a small jar of ink. “Your name?”
Jasper provided their information, and just as the blacksmith turned to Nia, they were interrupted when the entrance door burst open. Along with a cool breeze, a gentleman and a lady rushed inside. Nia blinked, not quite believing her eyes.
Blond curls bounced around the young woman’s face, which was flushed and slightly panicked-looking. “Hold up!”
But this wasn’t just any lady. Nia shook her head in disbelief. “Goldie?”
“You haven’t married yet, have you?” Nia’s sister scurried forward, looking prettier than Nia had ever seen her. And Goldie was not alone but accompanied by a familiar gentleman, Mr. Rutherford, who was the Earl of Standish now and Goldie’s husband. He was nearly as handsome as Jasper.
“What are you doing here?” Nia blinked in disbelief, momentarily speechless at the sudden appearance of the newlywed couple.
“West,” the earl greeted Jasper.
“Standish.” Jasper’s brows had risen, but he responded smoothly. “What brings you up north?”
“Malum said we might catch the two of you. We’re in time, are we not?” Lord Standish addressed Jasper.
Jasper shifted his gaze from the earl to Nia’s younger sister, and then to Nia. “If you mean in time to witness our nuptials, I suppose the answer would be yes,” Jasper said.
Nia stumbled over her questions. “Why… how?” None of this made sense. Why would the Duke of Malum send her sister after them?
“Oh! Nia! I am just so very glad we found you! You are acquainted with my—Reed, the Earl of Standish.” She smiled proudly. “My husband.”
“I am,” Nia fell back on her manners. “Congratulations,” she addressed both of them.
“I—thank you. But we are here to deliver good news! You don’t have to marry!” Goldie crossed to Nia and then shuffled through her reticule. After a moment, she withdrew a folded newspaper and handed it over.
Nia stared at the paper, scared suddenly of what she was going to find. Reluctantly, however, she accepted it with lifeless fingers. And when she opened it, she frowned.
“It says that I married the Duke of Dewberry.”
