Those were just some of the promises Daniel Brighton, the Duke of Stonewynn and former Marquess of Grisham, made to Lady Lucy Coulson, his bride.
The church was splendid, with its beautiful architecture, but today was different. It transformed. Daniel no longer saw a cold stone structure built intricately. Rather, he saw theheavens themselves. Sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, scattering brilliant colors over the interior, which included the guests.
While the rainbow colors appeared like glittering gems, the only light that mattered to him was the woman slowly walking down the aisle toward him.
He stood by the altar, marveling at the easy grace with which Lucy bore her silk and ivory lace gown. Despite the delicate fabrics, she looked anything but delicate. Her back was straight, and her gaze was steady on him.
When she reached him, he took her hand, his thumb grazing her knuckles through her glove. Admittedly, it was the last thing he remembered. The ceremony was a blur of vows, excited whispers among the crowd, incense, and light perfume. If someone asked him about what happened, he would only be able to describe his feelings.
Feelings. He felt love and happiness. Bliss.
When the priest pronounced them husband and wife, sighs of relief rose from the front pews, where his sisters sat. The sound carried the weight of what felt like a year’s worth of held breaths.
Daniel chuckled, knowing exactly why they did that. They had had enough of the tension between them, and knowing the danger that surrounded them had filled everyone with worry.
When he glanced toward his sisters, he saw Victoria dabbing her eyes with a lace handkerchief. That would never cease to be amusing. Wilhelmina had a wide smile, as if she were already spinning a tale in her head about the wedding.
Daniel turned to Lucy, holding her hand gently with his own. His thumb traced circles over the back of her hand to ground her—and him.
“We are home, Lucy,” he choked out a whisper.
His bride looked up at him with trust and love in her eyes. She did not just lean into him with her body, but she stood beside him. He could trust her to be a partner in every sense.
Outside, the bells were pealing, announcing to the world that the Duke of Stonewynn was no longer a hunter but was now a husband.
The wedding breakfast was held at Stonewynn House. It was an event that certainly nobody would forget. The grand ballroom was decorated with thousands of white roses and dramatic trailing ivy. The bird motif could be seen everywhere, too, much to the curiosity of the guests.
“To the Duke and Duchess of Stonewynn,” Theo declared, raising his champagne flute with a grin.
As usual, the Marquess of Barton was a splash of bright colors, in a coat of evergreen and a deep purple cravat.
“May you find the peace that you both deserve,” he added, surprising the couple with his seriousness.
Later, though, he teased them.
“Your husband was a fool, Your Grace, but it is to my great relief that he woke up. He does have an excellent taste in women.”
Daniel remembered the last wedding he had attended—Victoria’s. Even then, he had been at the receiving end of much teasing. After all, his sisters had married before him. His older sisters, Marianne and Elizabeth. Wilhelmina, whom he had not seen for a while. And the twins, Daphne and Victoria, who had become his responsibility. Each of his sisters had married dukes. Somebody had jested that Brighton women had power over dukes. Now, he was also a duke.
He had made sure to send an invitation to Lady Grisham—he had chosen not to live in bitterness—but she chose not to come. It was for the best, he thought.
“Daniel is a fool who is fortunate that I am a forgiving woman.” Lucy chuckled.
Daniel could not help but flinch. His bride meant it, he could tell. At least she was still clutching his arm. It meant that she was happy and did not regret marrying him.
“What about you, Barton?” he asked, knowing it was his turn to tease his friend. “When are you going to take a lady to the altar? Perhaps you can find someone who loves wearing bright colors as you do.”
“On the contrary, my dear friend,” Theo countered. “I believe I need a lady who likes dreary gray and black to complement my attire.”
“I hope that you do not force her to wear those colors,” Lucy warned darkly.
“Don’t you worry, Your Grace,” Theo replied somberly. “I will never.”
They weaved through the crowd, greeting family members and friends. Richard and Victoria stood proudly with the little flower girl, Melody, who was clutching a basket of white roses. Elizabeth and Alasdair hovered nearby with their three children.
“Jamie!” Daniel greeted his eleven-year-old nephew. “I have not seen much of you lately!”
“Uncle Daniel! You look a lot happier now that you’re out and about more often.”
