“Samuels? Show the duchess and countess to the front pews,” Dominic ordered as he went into the church with his two groomsmen.
At the altar, Charles held out his hand. “The ring?”
In his brief visit to London, Dominic had the ring cleaned. He handed it to Charles. Then he checked the flower in his buttonhole hadn’t wilted. Cushing had taken special care of his appearance, and his sharp eye rested on Dominic from his seat.
In London, Dominic had spent a night at his Mayfair townhouse. He’d conferred with his butler, who alerted the housekeeper and staff to prepare for their arrival in a few weeks.
Evelyn sent a tear-stained missive to wish him and Olivia well. He supposed it would take time for her to accept that he’d chosen his bride and not the lady she dearly wished him to marry. But his sister had a big heart, and she loved him. And she’d promised to come to London to meet Olivia as soon as she was able, but not until Gerald had recovered from some malady. The doctor assured her it wasn’t serious.
The organ music swelled.
Dominic turned.
Necks craned as Olivia walked down the aisle in a blue gown, her gloved hand resting on Williams’s sleeve, a bouquet of white flowers in her hand. A floral wreath adorned her black hair. The gown and the earrings made her eyes very blue. She looked so lovely, she robbed him of breath. Her attendants, Miss Caldicot and Mrs. Turner followed, dressed in lemon and white.
With a loving glance, Olivia came to stand beside him.
Williams stepped away.
The vicar cleared his throat, and the atmosphere hushed.
Destiny, fate, or the stars had brought them together, while he’d had been busy avoiding falling in love. Had he always known that true happiness lay in loving and being loved? Perhaps he had. He’d just forgotten it along the way.
As the vicar’s intone washed over him, Dominic gazed down at his bride, his heart full.
*
Redcliffe introduced hisexquisitely dressed friends to Olivia when they stood outside the church: Charles, Duke of Shrewsbury, and his Duchess, Nellie, an elegant blonde; and Nicholas, Marquess of Pennington, and his marchioness, Carrie, a lovely redhead. Olivia saw in their faces the offer of true friendship, and any fears she might have had faded. She may not meet with such grace in London, but it was the people Dominic cared about that mattered most.
“As you did not expect us and wrote that you planned a simple affair, we would be delighted to host the wedding breakfast at the inn,” Charles said. “I’ll have them rustle up some musicians. But if you have made other arrangements, it’s of no consequence.”
“That’s perfect, Charles!” Dominic turned to smile at Olivia.
“Musicians! We can dance the bridal waltz.” Olivia smiled shyly at the duke. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
“Charles, please. We stand on no ceremony with friends.”
Olivia slipped away to tell Meg about the new arrangements.
“I must return to the house immediately,” Meg said. Olivia quietly explained which bedchambers had been prepared and what needed to be done before the coachman drove Meg back to the hall.
When they arrived at the inn, the beaming proprietor stood at the door, awaiting them.
It seemed as if the entire village had gathered to watch them alight from the coaches. Olivia saw Lady Lowry among them. When she nodded politely, Lady Lowry returned a sour smile.
Musicians struck up as they entered the inn.
“Charles has drummed up a trio to play for us.” Dominic grinned. “As I knew he would.”
*
The wedding breakfasthad been perfect. Mr. Bowls, the proprietor, put on a sumptuous spread, and Olivia waltzed with Redcliffe. “I love you, Lady Redcliffe,” he’d whispered as he led her around the small dance floor.
His tender expression almost made her cry. “I love you, Redcliffe.”
Charles made a wonderful, humorous speech, interspersed with interjections from Nicholas. Carrie promised to assist Olivia with her wardrobe when she came to London, and Nellie said she would hold a dinner in her honor. Olivia was stunned by how natural and friendly they both were.
When they came home, she went to change and found Meg had been busy. The countess’s suite was restored to its former glory with lavender-scented sheets on the bed. Redcliffe must have ordered it done as soon as Olivia accepted him. Tonight, she would join her husband here, and their marriage would truly begin.
