Addie laughed and opened the door. “Are you ready to go? You don’t want your bride to think you’ve forgotten her.”
“Not possible,” Kendrick said. How could he? She was never far from his thoughts.
In the early morning, London was as still as it ever was. The air was cold, but the wind had stilled. It took no time at all to walk from Dominic’s house to what Kendrick must start thinking ofhishouse.
Joseph opened the door and admitted them. “They’re nearly ready,” he said.
“Thank you.” He shook Joseph’s hand and Robbie’s. “Not just for this. You’ve done a wonderful job on this house. It barely looks like the same building.”
Everything shone, lit by candles and lamps. Floors had been scrubbed, new wallpaper hung, bannisters polished, and furniture dusted. New life breathed into it.
“There’s more to do,” Robbie said modestly. “But it’s a start.”
A rustle of fabric caught Kendrick’s attention. He lifted his gaze to the top of the stair.
A vision in blue.
Gone were the mourning blacks. Genevieve wore the blue gown he had found with its straight skirt and bustle, long-sleeved, as were most dresses for the season, a smart and attractive hat pinned to her head. Her brown locks had been arranged around her face and the strands brushed her neck. She clutched the stair rail with a white-gloved hand and worried at her lip as she slowly descended.
Kendrick went to meet her at the base of the stairs, taking her hand gloved in new silk. He pressed his lips to the back of her hand, tasting the silk. “You look beautiful, Genevieve.”
He didn’t think there would be anything better than seeing the light kindle in her eyes at his words. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Are you ready?”
She lifted her chin, and that was answer enough.
ChapterTwenty-One
The church was no St. George’s, but it was an attractive if small building. Genevieve clung to Kendrick’s arm in the shadow of its edifice. Behind them, Etienne, Addie, Dominic, Robbie, Elspeth, and Sparrow waited. Next to the church, the parsonage had a light burning in the window.
“The vicar should be waiting for us. I was specific about the time,” Kendrick murmured.
Genevieve chewed on her lip.
“Trust me?” he said quietly.
“I do,” she said.
He knocked on the parsonage door and it swung open, revealing the sleepy and somewhat glassy-eyed human vicar. “Come in, come in,” he said, ushering the group of vampires into his sitting room, a cozy enough space with overflowing bookshelves and a fire burning down to embers on the hearth. He asked no questions, merely directed them to join hands.
Genevieve held on to Kendrick like a lifeline. The vicar opened his prayer book and began. “Dearly Beloved.”
The ceremony went quickly and without issue until the giving of rings. Dominic placed a gold band in Kendrick’s hand. It was made of many strands intertwined in a complex braid pattern. She knew instinctively that it was not something he had seen in a shop window.
He had made it himself. A giver of rings. But a special one just for her.
Her long-dead heart wanted to thump. It wanted to leap. The back of her throat ached.
Genevieve stared down at her gloves. She needed to take them off to put the ring on. The ring would not fit over her glove.
You can do this. Youhaveto do this.She fumbled at the buttons, but she couldn’t make the loops come free. Her hands shook. A second more and she would tear the silk.
Kendrick stilled her trembling fingers. “May I?”
Miserably, wretchedly, she nodded.
Carefully, he undid the buttons at her wrist and slid the left glove free.
