Page 14 of A Marriage of Necessity

They reached the altar. Anne pulled her hand free and turned to face him.

Christ, he was about to marry a woman who only last week had bartered with him for her charms. She was lovely, there was no doubt about that, but he would have his father’s head for this.

Kennedy weaved through the ceremony like a man in a dream. When the priest asked for the rings, Kennedy slipped onto her finger the diamond and ruby ring that had been his mother’s. She put on his finger a simple gold band. That, he was surprised to admit, suited him well. The priest pronounced them man and wife and bade Kennedy kiss his wife. He slipped an arm around her slim waist and pulled her closer than intended. She clasped his shoulders and he glimpsed her closed eyes in the instant before his mouth touched hers.

As he knew they would be, her full lips were soft and warm. The embrace lasted by three heartbeats. She pulled back before he did, and the priest led them to the registry. They signed, but Kennedy felt no relief despite the fact he’d taken the first step toward fulfilling his father’s demands. Unless his search for his sister succeeded, at least three months of hell lay before him, and that was only if he was able to impregnate his wife right away. What would he do if it turned out she was barren, or worse, he was unable to sire a child?

He couldn’t help a rueful mental laugh. All these years, he’d been careful not to father a by-blow. If he had been careless—or lucky, depending on how one viewed the matter—

and had sired a bastard, at least he would know he was able to father a child.

Suddenly, his wife was being hugged by her mother and sister. He was forced to allow Jacqueline to kiss his cheek, and she did the same to Anne, her sister and mother. Mr. Spector shook hands with Kennedy. Kennedy looked back at the pews, but Sir Stirling was gone.

Forty-five minutes later, they sat at the dining table at his townhouse, partaking of the wedding feast. Kennedy would have gladly sent Jacqueline home, but here she sat to his left, while his wife sat to his right. He wasn’t likely to forget this day for the rest of his life.

“Will you visit us at Dover Hall, my lord?” Lady Louisa asked him.

He looked up from his plate and smiled at her. “I beg you, call me Kennedy. We are family now, I am your brother.”

She beamed. “Then ye must call me Louisa.”

He nodded. “Thank you, Louisa. As to your question, we will plan a time to visit Dover Hall. For the moment, I have business that keeps me in Edinburgh. Of course, you and your mother are welcome to stay with us as long as you like.”

“That is most kind of you,” the dowager viscountess said. “Unfortunately, we must return home tomorrow.” She smiled. “Like you, business beckons.”

He wondered what business the dowager viscountess might have, but he would save that question for another day. “Of course, I understand.”

“Perhaps we will be fortunate enough for your business to conclude in the not-too-distant future, so that you might come visit us,” she said.

Kennedy had no intention of going anywhere until his son was born. But he smiled and said, “Perhaps.”

“Anne can always come and visit us, as well,” Louisa said.

Kennedy had no intention of allowing her to go anywhere until they had a son, but, again, he said, “Perhaps, though I may want to keep her to myself for just a little while.”

That comment earned him a startled look from his wife. He didn’t know her well—in truth, he didn’t know her at all—but he had a suspicion that silence wasn’t her normal state, and he wondered if he should be worried.

“Do you spend much time in Edinburgh, my lady?” Jacqueline asked the dowager viscountess.

“Nae, the running of Dover Hall demands most of my time.”

Kennedy forked pheasant into this mouth. Was this the business she spoke of? The running of an estate could monopolize one’s time.

“Surely you will spend more time here now that Anne and Kennedy are married. Are you certain you cannot stay another two days? We are planning a ball in their honor tomorrow evening.”

Kennedy snapped his gaze onto Jacqueline. “I know nothing of this.”

“Your father wanted it to be a surprise, and we had to be sure the preparations were in order before we said anything. I’m pleased to say that we have sent out two hundred invitations.”

Kennedy thinned his lips. “It didn’t occur to my father that we might have plans?”

She gave a gentle smile, a mother’s smile, that would have fooled anyone except him. “Your father is not long for this world, Kennedy. Would you deny him something so simple?”

“It seems I cannot deny him anything.”

Anne gave him a startled look and Kennedy realized she hadn’t spoken a single word the entire breakfast.

Jacqueline laid a hand on his arm. “Kennedy, your father wanted me to tell you that he will be sending a wedding gift.”

Anne’s gaze flicked to Jacqueline’s hand on his arm. Kennedy cursed inwardly. He had intended to keep his life separate from his marriage. Jacqueline, however, clearly had other ideas.