Instead of the fanfare generally associated with high society weddings, they had decided to limit the event to family only and host it in Anthony’s garden. Athena and Penny were present of course. So was Mr. Quinn, along with Ada’s sisters and brothers-in-law.
Unfortunately, Mama was still half-way around the world somewhere and would have to find out her son had married when she returned.
Mathis and the rest of the servants lined the path the bride would travel. The vicar stood by Anthony’s side, ready to proceed with the service. Anthony himself held his breath. She ought to arrive at any moment. His heart gave a solid thump.
And then there she was, dressed in cornflower blue with a crown of forget-me-nots tied in her hair. Anthony sucked in a breath and took a step forward in order to greet her. The sparkle in those deep blue eyes and the perfect curve of her kissable lips were lovely beyond compare.
“You’re radiant,” he murmured, a little breathless in the face of such beauty.
“Thank you, Your Grace. You’re rather striking as well.”
The blush in her cheeks was irresistible. Leaning in, he kissed her cheek then offered his arm and led her the last few steps to where the vicar stood waiting.
Taking turns, they made their vows. Despite a couple of hymns and the scripture the vicar elected to read, the service did not last as long as Anthony feared it might. He turned to Ada – his wife and duchess – a little dismayed by the sting in his eyes. She beamed at him and he saw that she too was overcome by emotion. The tears gathering near her lashes spilled over at the exact same time as his.
Grinning, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, long and deep and with the unspoken promise that he’d make her just as happy as she was right now for the rest of her life.
Since Ada’s family had been invited to stay at Westcliffe house during their visit to London and Anthony’s sisters also lived there, Ada and Anthony had agreed to spend their wedding night at Mivart’s. The hotel, which had been established in 1812 and located at the corner of Brook and Davies streets, was known for its top-notch cuisine and exclusive clientele.
Despite Ada saying that they could forego the expense, Anthony had insisted, and she’d not been able to talk him out of it. For which she was rather glad, she decided, while lounging on the velvet sofa that stood in their suite of rooms.
The half-empty bottle of champagne they’d shared still sat in its silver ice bucket while the trays they’d picnicked from on the floor had been placed on top of the dresser. Ada’s silk slippers lay near a chair where she’d toed them off the moment she and Anthony were alone. His shoes had been kicked to one side, his discarded jacket flung over the back of a chair.
She tracked his movements as he grabbed the champagne and refilled her glass. “Did you and your friends agree on the ending you’d like to use for your novel?”
“Yes,” he said as he gave her the glass. “You didn’t make it easy for us, but I rather like the way it turned out.”
Moving her legs to make space beside her, she sipped the bubbly drink and nodded. He wasn’t wrong. After reading all three endings, it had been impossible for her to choose. Each one was perfect in its own way, but upon closer reflection, she’d realized there was a reason for this. Each had a magical touch, so her suggestion had been to combine them.
“Does that mean it’s finished?” she asked, meeting his gaze with a hopeful smile.
“It does.” Instead of sitting, he retrieved a dark blue silk box tied with a cream-colored bow and placed it on a nearby table. “This is for you – the final edition.”
Ada’s heart leapt. “Anthony…”
“I encourage you to read it,” he told her. “And to let me know what you think. Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Precisely.” He closed his hand around hers, pulled her to her feet, and took the glass she’d been holding, which he placed beside the box. “There are more pressing matters for us to attend to right now.”
“What could possibly be more pressing tha—” Her eyes widened as he drew her flush up against him. “Oh!”
A wolfish smile told her she might as well put off all plans to read for the moment. Her husband was right. There were indeed more pressing matters, like all the tiny ridiculous buttons holding her gown in place, and the intricate knot some evil creature had made of Anthony’s cravat.
“Mind if I ruin this gown?” he asked while kissing his way down her neck.
“Only if you’ve no intention of seeing me in it again,” she sighed. “I’m abysmal with a needle and thread. Just ask my sister. She had a—”
A ripping sound accompanied the ping of a hundred small buttons dancing all over the room. Cool air caressed her skin as Anthony pushed the cap sleeves aside, sending swaths of lace-covered silk to the floor.
Ada gulped. She only wore her chemise, stays, and stockings now. But judging from the gleam in Anthony’s eyes, that wasn’t a bad thing. Her pulse quickened. Perhaps she ought to reciprocate?
Her gaze slid sideways, searching for something until…
She moved to the desk along one wall and snatched up a letter opener. Anthony’s eyes widened. He held up his hands and took a step back. “What’s your plan, Ada?”
“To get you out of those clothes.”
