Page 18 of The Highlander’s Improper Wife

Fool, she mentally telepathed, this is for your own good.

The handkerchief was abruptly snatched from her grasp. Caroline jerked her attention to the left. Her uncle stared at the minister, the last of the handkerchief being stuffed neatly into his breast pocket. His hand dropped back to his side.

She had prepared for this. Eyes locked on his profile, Caroline reached into her bodice and pulled free a second black handkerchief. His head shifted and his gaze met hers. She turned towards Taran before her uncle had a chance to snatch the second handkerchief from her and came face to face with her soon-to-be husband. His bland expression didn’t disguise the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. Her tummy flipped. What would he do when she displayed the remaining black she wore? With her free hand, she grasped her skirt and lifted the hem an inch.

A collective gasp went up and a woman’s low wail sounded in the front pew.

“Silence,” her uncle hissed.

A tremor passed through Caroline. Courage. It didn’t mattered what her uncle thought. Taran’s gaze dropped and both brows shot up. Satisfaction surged through her. This is what mattered. The dear viscount couldn’t ignore the black, quilted underskirt accented with black, silk stockings. What man would want a woman who publicly announced she preferred his dead brother? Caroline abruptly realized the chapel—including the minister—had gone silent.

Taran seemed to notice it as well, for he looked at the minister. “What did you say?”

The minister’s eyes were glued to Caroline’s ankles, where the edge of the underskirt and stockings were still visible.

“Minister,” Taran said in a firmer tone.

The reverend’s head jerked up.

“What did you say?” Taran repeated.

The man cast Caroline an uncertain glance, then straightened and said in a clear voice, “Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy state of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

Caroline’s breath caught when Taran looked at her and said with conviction, “I will.”

The reverend shifted his attention to her. “Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

Love, honor, care for him, yes. Obey and serve? Caroline wadded the handkerchief in her fist. “I am uncer—”

Viscount Blackhall yanked her against him, forcing the last of her sentence into an indistinguishable squeak.

“She does,” he growled.

“Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?” the reverend asked.

Her uncle seized her wrist and extended her hand—handkerchief and all—towards the reverend. He blinked, then an unexpected gleam of determination lit his eyes and she realized the good reverend intended to bring her to heel. He gripped her hand and extended it towards Taran. His warm fingers closed around hers with a firm but gentle touch. Her heart jolted. He was supposed to have stormed from the chapel, not taken her hand in his as if he meant to honor the damned vows.

“Repeat after me. I, Taran Robertson.”

Taran began, “I, Taran Robertson.”

“Viscount of Blackhall,” the minister went on, “take thee, Lady Caroline Wilmont to my wedded wife.”

Taran repeated the words.

Caroline cursed the tremble in her hand when Taran said, “To love and to cherish, till death us do part.”

The minister addressed her, “Repeat after me. I, Caroline Wilmont, take thee, Lord

Taran Robertson, to my wedded husband.”

Voice level, Caroline repeated the vows, ending with, “according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.”

The reverend laid a hand on their joined hands and said, “Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder.”

Caroline stiffened. God had taken no more part in their union today than he had last night. Her husband had yet to see her full wedding trousseau. He would demand an annulment before the wedding night ended.

Taran released her hand and reached into his pocket to produce a gold band. He grasped her left hand and said, “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”