“What are the roses for?” Cassandra asked.
“Every bride needs flowers in her hair. The dowager’s garden is glorious with them. We will hold them in place with your mother’s diamond pins. I assume you will wear the pearls?”
Tears welled in Cassandra’s eyes. She nodded.
Willa was immediately concerned. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m wonderful. Why do you ask?”
“I’ve never seen you cry before.”
Cassandra dabbed the heel of her hand against another tear. “I’m not crying because I’m sad but because of what you are doing. You are making me feel very special.”
“It is nothing but friendship,” Willa assured her. She gave Cassandra a quick hug. “So, the pearls?”
“Yes, of course. They were my mother’s favorites. I have nothing to represent my father.”
“I pray the man stews in his own bile. I can’t believe he behaved the way he did. There is nothing wrong with Dewsberry. I watched you last night over dinner, and I think the two of you make a handsome couple. I also believe he rather likes you.”
“He likes my money.” Cassandra moved to the washstand to collect a bar of fine milled soap. It was scented with lavender.
“Possibly,” Willa agreed. “Still, I thought him very attentive.”
He’s like his father, secretive and conniving—
Cassandra shut her father’s cruel words from her mind. That didn’t mean she was all trusting. “It is merely a marriage of convenience,” Cassandra said offhandedly, but in truth, it meant the beginning of a new life for her.
A knock sounded on the door. Her bath had arrived. Stalwart servants filled a hip tub. While Cassandra bathed behind a screen, Willa created a nosegay for her to carry to the church.
Betty returned with the dress pressed and helped Cassandra dress and style her hair. The maid loosely curled it, catching each curl in place with a rose and diamond-tipped pin.
By the time the hour came to go to the chapel, Cassandra felt a true bride. As she went out of her bedroom, she touched her mother’s pearls and believed she felt her presence.
Outside, the May sky was a clear blue with only a fluffy lamb of a cloud or two. The Camberly family chapel was a short walk from the house. The stone building was nestled under aging firs. Headstones were in the yard around it. Some were quite ancient. The newest was the dowager’s husband, Camberly’s grandfather.
Inside, the chapel felt very close with its low ceiling. It could seat maybe eight people. Soren was already there, along with a local rector. The duke and his grandmother were also present. He smiled in greeting at Cassandra but then his gaze wandered to Willa. Cassandra silently vowed she would do what she must to keep the amoral Camberly from her dear friend.
Soren approached. He was attired in his formal clothes. Someone had seen to trimming his hair and yet it still looked a bit wild. She found she didn’t mind. Indeed, she rather liked him the way he was.
“You are beautiful.” He spoke without preamble as if he could not contain the words and didn’t care who heard them.
Heat rushed to her cheeks. In that moment, she felt appreciated and treasured. He acted as if he wanted to marry not the heiress or the woman he was saving from disgrace, buther. As if hevaluedher.
The rector broke the spell. “Are we all gathered, my lord?” he asked Soren. Someone had said he was a cousin of the duke’s who had the living here.
“Are you ready, Miss Holwell?” Soren said, as aware as she that soon she would no longer have that name.
“I am, my lord.”
Soren nodded to the rector. “Then let us begin.”
He sounded confident, and yet did she detect a hint of nervousness? That must mean this marriage was important to him.
Cassandra realized she wanted that to be true.
The ceremony began. The rector’s voice reminded her of her father’s sonorous tones. Unbidden, her sire’s warning once again tried to echo in her brain.He is like his father, secretive—She shut it out.
Instead, she focused on her future. Her gaze met his gray eyes that now appeared open and honest. He was her childhood friend.
