He raised an eyebrow. “Not Lola?”
“No, that is Nana’s invention.”
Uncle Atti nodded. “Yes, she has a tendency to call people all sorts of names. Don’t you, old girl?”
“Get on with it, Atti, time is running out,” Nana groaned.
Uncle Atti nodded, then turned to the others. “Good, good. Let us proceed. The bride stands here. Lady Viola, if you please.”He gestured for her to stand next to him. “And the bridegroom-in-proxy here.” He beckoned Sebastian with one finger.
“Oh, no, no, no.” Sebastian stepped back hastily. “Just because I suggested this doesn’t mean I’ll put myself forward as the proxy.”
“Oh, yes you shall.” Uncle Atti’s voice was of steel. “Stand right there. It won’t hurt, and I promise it will all be over in a jiffy.”
“Must I truly?” Sebastian’s gaze flitted from person to person. “It could be anyone else, really...”
“Quiet, boy. Yes, you must.” He looked at him sternly. “Consider it your last act of service to a dying woman’s last wish.”
Put like that, it really was impossible to refuse.
Sebastian cast a desperate look at Hawkins, but the disloyal man stepped back and muttered, “I am already the witness.”
He looked at Viola, utterly at a loss.
“Her ladyship appears to be slipping away,” the maid, who hovered over Nana, exclaimed.
Heaven help him.
Viola looked at Sebastian, her eyes as wide and wild, and ran a tongue over her dry lips. “We have no time. Let us do it. For Nana.”
“Very well, very well.” Uncle Atti cleared his throat and began the marriage ceremony.
The entire affair felt unreal, Sebastian thought, as he clasped her cold, small hand in his. She trembled.
A rush of protectiveness swept through him. He pressed her hand gently, hoping the gesture conveyed some reassurance. Indeed, her breathing eased, and she clung to his hand as though he were her anchor.
Uncle Atti droned on with the ease of a man who had performed this ceremony hundreds, perhaps thousands of times.
Nana groaned.
“I beg your pardon, but you must make haste, Your Grace; her ladyship is deteriorating.” The maid interrupted Uncle Atti just as he was warming up to a lengthy exposition on the blessings and joy of marriage and fidelity, throwing him thoroughly out of countenance.
After he had regained his composure, he sped through the remaining ceremony.
“At this point, you are meant to say I will,” Uncle Atti prompted Viola.
She lifted her eyes and stared at Sebastian, as if seeing him for the first time. His heart stopped, then pounded with a ferocity that was almost painful.
“I will,” she whispered.
Nana made a gasping sound.
All eyes whipped to the bed, while Uncle Atti plodded dauntlessly on.
“And wilt thou, Sebastian George Fane, have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live.”
Heaven help him, it sounded far too real. A rushing sound filled his ears. Her hand trembled in his, and sweat trickled down his back.
Another gasp came from Nana.
