Chapter Fifteen
“Mrs. Dove-Lyon, weare honored you accepted our invitation.” Jackson bit out each word as he and the widow stood in the aisle between the chapel pews. The other guests shuffled out into the churchyard, but a few stragglers lingered near the entrance now that the ceremony had concluded. “I do hope the short notice has not put you at an inconvenience?”
“I am never inconvenienced unless I wish it, Your Grace,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said, her normally plain, black veil adorned in red beads shimmering like blood with the sunlight pouring down through the stained glass.
Dressing for the occasion, or anticipating artery spray. A gentleman didn’t like to guess.
“You needn’t have made the journey, Mrs. Dove-Lyon. My lovely bride and I would have made a point to call on you once we’d returned to the city.”
A chuckle. “I like to witness auspicious occasions with my own eyes, Your Grace.”
Witness.
Proof, more like.
“I do hope this means I will not be shown the door should I darken your doorstep again?” Jackson asked, knowing he’d haveto retrace his steps if there were any hope of picking up the counterfeiter’s trail.
“A newly married man, needing to escape to my humble establishment?” There was censure in her voice. More proof... that his hunch she’d used their circumstances to delay his investigation was correct. “I doubt there will be much of a need.”
He could play just as dirty. “As a reprieve, not for me, but my darling wife.” He smiled, leaving the charm out of his voice. “I can be quite demanding in the bedroom.”
“That’s not what I heard,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said.
Jackson came alert, his gaze searching for a hint of her expression through the veil. When the woman said nothing further, he relaxed. She must have been referring to his numerous—but polite—refusals to the ladies at the gaming hell to use the upstairs rooms.
As if he’d put himself in a vulnerable position under the roof of a potential enemy.
“I find my entertainments elsewhere,” he lied. “But will have no need of such services any longer. Clearly.”
Her head tilted, as if she spied something over his shoulder. “Clearly.”
He followed her gaze to see Anna in the chapel’s open doorway, the sun streaming down and turning her red hair to gold.
Want coursed through his blood. Made his hands shake at his sides.
Beautiful.
He’d thought the word again and again over the last hour.
Beautiful, stubborn,insulting, maddening, wonderful Anna. And she now shared his name.
He’d promised he’d wait for her to come to him, but in this holy place, where he’d sworn fidelity and honesty in front ofGod, he found his feet moving forward toward a truth he’d never utter out loud.
She may now and forevermore be Annabeth Cole, but the ownership was in name only. Because Annabeth Cole, Duchess of Grandfellow, owned him.
“Let’s start again.”
And their future started now.
“Your Grace,” ViscountessTisway said.
Anna blinked at the older woman in her navy-blue dress and matching hat, the address taking her by surprise. Yes, that was right. She wasYour Gracenow. Strange how a short sermon and an exchange of vows was all it took to completely rewrite her life.
The sunlight heated her neck and shoulders with delicious warmth from the open chapel door. “I shall have to get used to the Grandfellow title. And my new last name, as well.”
“Hmm,” Lady Tisway said, a gleam in her eye. “I’ve always been partial to your family: Greene... and Crews.”
Anna’s lips parted hearing her aunt’s title added to the mix. “How did you know?”
