Page 24 of Her Unsuitable Match

Nine

Medieval churches were a common enough sight in Britain, and several dotted London’s maps. Yet Chelsea Old Church had a special feeling to it when Myles stepped inside, Sunday after Sunday. It wasn’t as large or elegant as its sisters in Westminster or near the Tower. In fact, it was quite small. Homely, even, with a distinct lack of marble and artwork. A few columns bore carved scrollwork, and the largest glass was many-paned and colorful. But that was all that adorned the space. Yet the simple arches and well-worn wooden benches always set Myles at ease.

No one of great importance attended any of the services. Simply members of the neighborhood who had a care for Sabbath worship. Myles hadn’t had any trouble when he presented the vicar, Mr. Perry, with the common license and made his intentions known.

Thus, the Sunday morning after signing the contracts in Mr. Gillensford’s study found Myles seated next to Mr. and Mrs. Moreton at a pew toward the front. Across from him, the distinguished Mr. and Mrs. Gillensford accompanied Lady Philippa. A little girl sat with them between the red-headed matron and Myles’s almost-bride. She leaned forward several times to peer at him, which made Myles all the more grateful that he sat on the left side of the church, so his scars wouldn’t distress the child.

“I find it sweet you can’t stop staring at her,” Emmeline whispered from beside him. “She is lovely.” When Emmeline had heard Myles and her husband arguing about the marriage contract, she surprised Myles by supporting his decision to wed Lady Philippa. She had continued with positive commentary on the arrangement from that time forward. “I think this will be quite good for you,” she had said when they arrived together at the church.

Moreton, still unconvinced, had offered up a lament. “It isn’t a summer abroad, Emmeline. It’s marriage. A life-time commitment.”

Lady Philippa, never once looking at him as she paid rapt attention to the sermon, appeared perfectly at ease. She did not appear nervous at all, even while Myles had to clench and unclench his hands into fists repeatedly to keep the rest of himself still.

Emmeline was right about one thing. Lady Philippa looked as lovely as the spring. She wore a gown of soft yellow, putting him in mind of a sunrise, and a bonnet with a white veil put back for the time being. She held a bouquet of roses, yellow tinted with pink, in her gloved hands.

Myles made the mistake of letting his gaze drift from Lady Philippa’s profile to her brother’s. The man’s eyes narrowed, and he immediately cut Myles a glare. Mr. Gillensford hadn’t been unsupportive, necessarily. But he’d taken the first opportunity he could to meet with Myles under the guise of business, then had spent an hour closely questioning Myles about his habits, former loves, family, and his future objectives.

Adam Gillensford’s interview had left Myles exhausted, but strangely vindicated. He had been honest in all he said and answered everything to Mr. Gillensford’s reluctant satisfaction.

Given his current glare, he remained as satisfied as an older brother could be to give away the hand of a younger, beloved sister. Myles thought of his own unmarried sisters and how he would react if either of them had arranged their marriage without consulting the family.

He’d likely behave just as Mr. Gillensford had. Likely even more overbearing, given that his younger sisters lacked the natural confidence Lady Philippa exuded.

Mr. Perry finished the sermon, and then invited all to remain in their seats. “We will now partake of one of the most joyous occasions in this mortal world—the holy sacrament of marriage between one of our own, Mr. Myles Cobbett, and Lady Philippa Gillensford.”

Myles stood with haste rather than grace, cracking his right knee into the hard wood in front of him. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep back a groan. Thankfully, the rustling and hums of conversation brought on by Mr. Perry’s announcement meant no one noticed Myles’s clumsy injury. He moved to his expected position near the front of the church.

A moment later, Lady Philippa stood beside him.

“Who brings this woman to be married to this man?” Mr. Perry asked loud enough for all to hear.

“I do, her brother.” Mr. Gillensford took his sister’s right hand and gave it to the minister, who then handed it into Myles’s care.

Her slim hand was ungloved, and her skin against his was warm and soft. For the first time that day, Lady Philippa raised her gaze to meet his. Her deep blue eyes captured him in a way that made all of time stand still. Her eyes wrinkled at the corners, and then she whispered, “This is the last moment to change your mind.”

His throat had gone tight, his mouth dry, but Myles shook his head. “I wouldn’t dream of it, my lady.” He squeezed her right hand in his, then faced the minister.

“First, I am required to ask anyone present who knows a reason why these two may not lawfully marry to declare it now.” Mr. Perry made a show of peering about the congregants, and for one awful moment, Myles wondered if Lady Philippa’s elder brother might burst into the room with some ridiculous objection. It wouldn’t be legal in the slightest, of course. Lady Philippa was of age and could marry whomever she wished.

Then the vicar looked down at Myles and Lady Philippa with a congenial smile. “I must ask you both the same. The vows you soon make are made in the presence of God, who is the judge of all and knows all the secrets of our hearts; therefore, if either of you knows a reason you may not lawfully marry, you must declare it now.”

“There are no such reasons, sir,” Lady Philippa answered, her voice calm and clear. Myles felt the nervous buzzing that had been in his heart and mind all day grow still as he regarded her, noting no sign of regret or hesitance.

“None,” Myles added. He took strength from the smile she immediately bestowed upon him. Theirs might not be a love match, or even the strengthening of a relationship formed over time, but they had both come to this point with honorable intentions. He would make his vows, with Philippa beside him, and they would leave as husband and wife.

* * *

Every word the minister said rang through Philippa’s ears as she promised to love and obey the near-stranger standing next to her. He held her right hand, while in her left she grasped the flowers Elaine had procured for her. They were so similar to what grew at Tertium Park, Philippa could almost believe they came from those very gardens. She clung to the reminder of that safe, protected place so tightly, she worried the stems might snap and reveal her state of nervousness to everyone.

Myles Cobbett, for his part, stood straight and stiff as the soldier he had once been. In fact, he looked ready to face a line of cannons given the grim set of his mouth as they began repeating after the vicar. The brief smile he had given her before the ceremony started in earnest had been the sole pleasant expression upon his face that day.

With the last words of the vicar’s benediction, Philippa finally allowed herself to take in a trembling breath of relief. Her eldest brother hadn’t been informed of her marriage, and now he could not intervene. As the vicar said, what God hath joined, let no man part.

Myles tucked her right hand through the crook of his left arm and turned to walk out of the church with her. This part they had planned with precision. Together, they would climb into a carriage hired by Adam. The carriage would take them to the Gillensford townhouse, where Myles’s things waited in the bedroom adjoining her own. Formerly the room Lady Fredericka had occupied, before she left the house squawking like an indignant chicken.

They would remain in London with the Gillensfords. Long enough to post wedding announcements, appear together at select events in public, and finalize the contracts with Mr. Tuttle-Kirk’s firm. Then they would lease their own lodgings in town and set up house.

As Myles handed her into the carriage, Philippa felt one last tremble of fear. She settled into the forward-facing seat and closed her eyes. What had she done? Marrying a complete stranger—to thwart her brother? How absurd! She had escaped an unwanted union with Lord Walter only to form her own with a man who appeared about as thrilled with his wedding as he would have been with a funeral.