And yes, he knew that in doing so, he would have betrayed all his own scruples. A nobleman—a man with any honor whatsoever—would not lower himself to compromise a lady in such a way.
Well, he hadn’t, had he? But he couldn’t say with any truth that he was glad for the reprieve. If anything, he was beyond frustrated.
Now, if they could just get the ceremony done and over with, he could assuage both his scruples and, soon after, his unrelenting desire that seemed to be gnawing through his insides.
He would go after them on the count of five.One—
“Never fear, Lord Randall.” The vicar’s voice and the smile evident in his speech cut into his count.
He glanced at the clergyman behind him, standing patiently at the altar.
“’Tis quite normal for the ladies to take a moment to collect themselves. No need to worry that your bride has opted to flee.”
“I’m not worried,” he bit out.Notveryworried.
An unmistakable twinkle shone in the vicar’s eyes. “I only wish the marquess were here to see this day.”
And why was Sterling’s throat suddenly tight?
“Ah.” Grinning, the vicar gestured with his chin toward the entrance.
Pulse racing for no good reason, Sterling turned to see his sister in the chapel alcove. Holding a bouquet comprised of greenery and colorful dried flowers, she sent him a beatific smile filled with such joy that he could not fail to return it. Then she hastened down the aisle toward the first pew.
Finally, Annabelle stepped into view, and his breath caught. She was so lovely in her rich velvet gown of deepest purple. Her blue eyes locked with his, and she sent him a tremulous smile before gliding forward.
A deep-seated certainty filled him—that she was here, and his, that this was right. And from this moment on, God help the man who tried to take her from him.
As Sterling had requested, the vicar kept the ceremony brief and concise. Both he and Annabelle repeated the requisite words, and in a matter of minutes, the entire affair concluded. Soon, the three of them filed from the chapel, climbed aboard the carriage, and set off for Stoneford Castle.
The three of them. He, his sister, and Lady Annabelle Randall. His wife.
***
Annabelle sat at the beautifully arranged breakfast feast that Lady Caroline—Caroline, she’d asked to be called from now on—had planned for the three of them and marveled that she was married—to Lord Sterling Randall no less.
She studied him through her lashes. He did not seem at all vexed or put out. In point of fact, he seemed relaxed and…happy?
“Well, then,” Caroline said, dabbing her mouth with her linen. “I believe I shall take myself for a walk while the weather is fine, then I have letters to write, not to mention a new romantic novel to return to, which I began during my long train ride.” As she spoke, she pushed back from the table and rose.
As opposed to yesterday, when the conversation between sister and brother had left Annabelle feeling like an outcast, today she quite relished Caroline’s buffering presence. She couldn’t say precisely why.
“S-so soon? But you hardly…” Her words died as she glanced at the empty plate before her newly acquired sister.
Come to think of it, all three of them had nearly finished their meals.
Caroline loosed a soft chuckle, rounded the table, and kissed first Sterling, and then Annabelle on their cheeks. And then she was gone.
Minutes later, Nell and Chip entered the dining room and cleared the plates.
And then only the two of them remained.
“I understand a bottle of champagne awaits us in my chambers. Shall we go upstairs?”
She could not force words past her lips. She nodded.
***
Sterling followed close behind Annabelle, his gaze trailing over her as she glided up the stairs. He took in the gentle sway of her hips, the elegant line of her back. In particular, the tender skin at her nape called to him, where several wispy blond tendrils had escaped the confines of her chignon. His fingers itched to trace the springy silk.
