“So? You become someone else. Personally, I like the name, Miss Anna Smith.”
The Madame laughed. “I look nothing like you! And no one would ever believe it.”
“I’ve heard that most of the people in society see only what they wish to see.” Mara gave another shrug. “So you change your hair color.”
Celeste shook her head before she set her hands on her hips. “My God, you’re serious, aren’t you?”
Mara’s gaze was direct. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. I owe you a debt of gratitude. It’s time I return the favor.”
“But…” The other woman was so baffled she couldn’t even finish her statement.
“All I’m asking is that you consider it,” Mara said softly. “You’ve been a true friend to me, and I left you at that awful workhouse. I’m sorry for abandoning you like that. I hope you’ll allow me this chance to make amends.”
Abruptly, Celeste burst into tears. “I never dreamed…never imagined…” she paused to collect herself. She reached out to Mara and hugged her tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“No one deserves it more,” Mara replied with a smile. “Now, as much as I would love to stay and chat, I don’t think my groom would be very pleased with me if histhirdopportunity to find a vicar to marry us went to waste.”
“Of course,” Celeste said with a giggle. “After I threatened to harm a certain part of his anatomy if he hurt you, I would feel like the worst sort of hypocrite if I delayed you any longer. Besides,” she grimaced. “He might decide to come after me.”
* * *
Mara made it back to Rockford House in plenty of time, even though Athena looked at her with a rather chiding expression. However, once she told her that Celeste had accepted the chance to rebuild a respectable life, her entire face lit up.
After that, Mara was pinned, tucked, and cinched into her wedding attire. The vicar had shown up about fifteen minutes ago and was waiting downstairs, along with Bentley, who continued to gain his strength every day and who would give her away in matrimony.
Everyone appeared to be in position—other than the groom.
Once she was dressed in all her finery, Mara paced the guest chamber at Rockford House while any number of possible scenarios ran through her head as to why Roarke might be running late. His horse threw a shoe…he had a tear in his jacket and had to change…there was a loose button on his trousers…he had indigestion and was indisposed in the privy…
She grimaced at the last, for now she was just grasping at straws at to why her fiancée hadn’t shown up yet. But anything was better than facing the fact that he might actually abandon her at the altar. Then again, Mara wasn’t sure if Rion and Gregory had returned yet, so perhaps there was still hope that she wouldn’t be jilted.
Thus, when Athena opened the door to check on her, she couldn’t help but pounce. “Are they here?”
Her friend must have caught the desperation in her voice for she swallowed nervously. “Rion and Gregory just arrived.” Mara’s face must have fallen, for she quickly added, “But Rion assures me that Roarke is on his way.”
“What if he changed his mind?”
Athena snorted. “Hardly.”
Mara worried her lower lip. “In that case, how long is the vicar willing to stay to find out?”
The countess smiled, but Mara could tell it was forced. “Rion won’t let him leave, even if he does have another ceremony he needs to perform.”
Mara sat down on the bed and crossed her arms. She didn’t doubt that she looked like a petulant child, but she didn’t care. “If Roarke does show up, I may just give him a piece of my—”
Lyra was slightly breathless as she burst in. “He’s here!”
Mara jumped up, her annoyance instantly wiped away by her relief. “It’s about time!”
She practically ran out the door and rushed down the stairs, not even bothering to try to make a grand entrance in an effort to sweep Roarke off of his feet by her beauty. She just wanted to reassure herself that he was truly there.
Mara was halfway down the staircase when her steps faltered. Roarke looked resplendent in his black and white formal attire, but it was when he glanced up and saw her, when his face softened, and the pure love and adoration shone out of those hazel eyes, did her heart skip a beat.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered.
Mara felt herself glowing from the inside out as she felt every bit of his praise. She knew she looked the best she ever had in an ivory silk gown with Brussel’s lace added to the collar and sleeves to give it a more elegant appearance. Her blonde hair was piled on her head in an elegant coiffure, threaded with tiny seed pearls. She even had a sixpence in her left slipper, a time-honored tradition from the previous century as part of her dowry to her groom, but more recently thought of as a simple, good luck charm.
The flowers Cassie had tried so hard to procure for her were white lilies, in honor of her sister, and while they were special to Mara, the red gloves she wore on her hands were even more so.
Roarke noticed them immediately and lifted a brow. “Nice touch,” he murmured.
Mara beamed. “Thank you. I thought you would approve.” She was so worried he might not like them, for they certainly weren’t traditional, but it was a tribute to him, and she was thankful he appreciated the gesture.
“Sorry I’m late. I had to get another license. The one I had before”—he paused to offer a sheepish grin—“was washed accidentally. My valet was most upset.” His lips twitched, although he held out an arm to her. With a gallant bow, he asked, “Are you ready?”
Mara smiled, letting the love shine out through her eyes. “I have been all my life.”
