“Let’s deal with that when we get there.” He helped her inside. “Back to the village, Driver. The church, if you please.”
The journey seemed to take forever, while Erina tried to breathe through the panic. When they entered the small, stone church, a slim young woman in an ivory-colored dress, with hair the exact same shade of red as Erina’s, stood at the altar beside a big, carroty-haired man. The priest in his robes was intoning the marriage vows, his voice echoing around the almost-empty church. Erina’s heart banged in her chest. Here, in this hallowed building, the enormity of what she was about to do struck her. What if she was wrong, and this had become a love match? She glanced at Harry, tempted to ask for his support.Resisting the impulse, she moved closer to the small group gathered at the altar.
After a frowning glance at them, the priest continued. “If anyone can show just cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”
Erina swallowed and raised her hand. “I can.”
Harry took her arm as the man and the woman seated in the front pew, the priest, the bride, and the groom, all turned to stare at her, a rumble of outraged voices echoing in the lofty space.
“Cathleen, I’m Erina.”
The girl blinked. “Erina?Begorrah!Have I fallen through a fairy ring?”
“What is this?!” The groom left the bride’s side, his homely face turning an ugly shade of red. He stopped when he drew close; her likeness to Cathleen must have struck him. “Who are ye?”
“I’m Cathleen’s cousin, Lady Erina Rountree. And you, sir?”
His mean eyes reflected his misgivings. “The name’s Gormley, Lady Erina.” He squared his shoulders. “Not that it’s any business of yourn. Ye are interruptin’ the ceremony.”
The bride-to-be hurried past him, relief in her green eyes. “Erina?”
“Yes.” Erina’s voice wobbled. “It’s me.”
“I can’t believe my eyes!” Cathleen threw her arms around her. She sniffed. “I never expected to set eyes on ye!”
The groom’s eyes narrowed. He held out his hand. “Come, Cathleen!”
“Might there be a problem, Miss Sullivan?” the priest called. “Is the ceremony to proceed?”
“It is, Father,” Mr. Gormley thundered.
“Father O’Brien, my cousin has come all the way from England. Could you wait a moment?” Cathleen took Erina’s arm and drew her away, while Gormley stood waiting, visibly seething.
“You want to marry this Mr. Gormley?” Erina asked,sotto voce.
“I have no choice, Erina. He owns my father’s house. I’ve nowhere else to go.”
“But you do have a choice. You can come home to England with me.”
With her hands at her rosy cheeks, Cathleen’s smile quivered. “Your father would agree?”
“Of course. You are kin. Papa will be delighted to have you.” Erina cast a quick glance at Harry, but he kept his eye on the groom, who’d coiled his hands into fists.
“Cathleen!” Mr. Gormley called again. “The priest and the witnesses are waiting.”
“Come to England with Harry and me,” Erina said urgently. “Find a man you can love. Unless you love Mr. Gormley?”
“I hate him,” Cathleen said, her voice muffled behind her hand.
“Then it’s settled.” Erina turned around. “Harry, we are taking my cousin to her house to pack her things. She is to accompany us back to Dublin.”
“I’m sorry, Father O’Brien.” Cathleen straightened her shoulders. “Mr. Gormley, I shan’t marry you.”
Mr. Gormley growled and took a step closer.
Cathleen flinched and backed away from him.
“Mind yer own business,” Gormley said, eyeing them both.
