Page 89 of Only a Mistress Will Do

Violet threw her arms around her friend, hugging her fiercely. “Now, come, let me be married.”

By the time she and Susan stood beside Tristan and the marquess at the entrance to St. Anne’s, the shadows were lengthening on the churchyard grass. Where had the day gone?

“What are we waiting for?”

“Matthews has not returned.” The marquess cocked his head. “Although I believe that is about to be remedied.” He nodded toward his carriage as it rounded the corner and swept up to the door. Matthews jumped out, then extended his hand to someone in the interior.

Violet drew closer to Tris. Who on earth—

“Dora!” Two steps and she hugged her friend, unable to fully take in her presence. “But…how?” Further speech failed her.

“I saw the carriage drive up and had to take my chance.” Dora’s blue eyes sparkled. “It has been horrible since yesterday. Father has cursed both me and Simon morning and night. Mother took to her bed with smelling salts and my aunt has enjoyed the whole spectacle.” Dora grasped Violet’s hands, squeezing them so tight she winced. “Father confined me to my room, but I stole down and listened to Simon berate Mr. Matthews when he asked for the names and direction for his seconds. Simon said he could perform the formalities tomorrow in the woods, as there was no way he’d miss the pleasure of running Lord Trevor through.” With a laugh, Dora rolled her eyes. “Simon is worse than a fool.”

“He sounds it,” Susan mumbled.

Dora cut her gaze at the young woman, then shrugged. “He is one, make no mistake. It will be his downfall, rather sooner than later I believe.” Clutching Violet’s hands, she beamed at her friend. “Anyway, when Mr. Matthews left the library, I accosted him and asked after you. He told me the situation and I insisted on accompanying him here to see you married.”

“Alone?” Violet raised an eyebrow at that revelation. Matthews certainly looked harmless, but society dictated Dora must be chaperoned.

“Larkin is with me.” Dora nodded toward the carriage where the almost invisible, painfully shy maid crouched in the seat. “Your coachman will return us and perhaps with no one the wiser.” She smiled brilliantly and urged Violet toward the church. “Come, let us all see you married.”

Chapter 33

“The gentlemen have gone ahead, but if you will allow me, ladies.” Mr. Matthews opened the door and Violet, Dora, and Susan passed inside.

“Thank you, Mr. Matthews,” Violet said.

He followed them, remarking, “At least five degrees cooler in here without the sunlight.”

The smallest of the churches in the town of Devizes, St. Mary’s had seemed the more discreet choice of location for the wedding. Violet and Tris had discussed it at length and decided they wanted as few people as possible to know of their marriage, certainly not Lord and Lady Downing. After the duel they could return to London and announce it in grand style. Dora’s presence in the wedding party with Susan, therefore, was an unexpected boon.

Violet blinked, her eyes adjusting quickly to the church’s dim interior. The gray stone walls reflected what light still filtered through the stained-glass windows on either side of the nave. They depicted scenes from the life of Christ with St. Mary a prominent figure in each. Violet spied Tris with the marquess and the vicar standing in front of the altar. Tris smiled so broadly, his eyes so full of love, she trembled, scarcely able to continue down the aisle. The longest walk of her life, perhaps, but what a glorious prize awaited her at the journey’s end.

“Here, my lady. Let me take your cloak.” Susan drew the dark wool cape off her, revealing her pale blue satin brocade gown, pearl trim and glittering crystal embroidery on the bodice, neck, and cuffs catching the light of the candles.

Tris’s eyes grew enormous, an appreciatory gleam in them. He shook his head, frowning. “Where did you get that gown? I recall one similar—”

“She left this one behind at Lammas House, your lordship,” Susan volunteered. “I occupied my time with it on the journey here. I suspected she didn’t have a gown grand enough for her wedding day and made sure to provide for it.” She smoothed the fabric over Violet’s waist and twitched the fit at the shoulders. “My wedding gift to you both.”

“Thank you once more, Susan,” Violet said, blinking back tears. She would be bubbling like a fountain soon if she didn’t keep control. “But I am not ‘my lady’ yet.”

“Wait ten minutes and you will be, my lady.” Smile broadening, Susan glanced at Tris. “You had best take care of her or you answer to me, my lord.”

“You have my oath on it, Susan. I vow to love and protect her until my dying breath.” His words sent a trickle of fear down Violet’s back, but she shook it off and took Tris’s hand. A wave of joy washed over her. She’d think of this only, of them being joined together forever. Happiness poured through her, and fear faded.

Tris’s gaze gentled as he drew her to stand beside him. He stared at her, brows arched, lips parted as though about to speak, his love on his face for all to see. As he continued to stare at her, the vicar began the service.

“Dearly beloved…”

Violet wanted to listen, to remember each word, every detail of this perfect moment. Instead, she heard nothing save the blood pulsing in her ears, her voice rasping as she gasped for breath, the low scraping of his thumb as he stroked the back of her hand. Not the memory of her wedding she’d planned. Still, it would be enough. She would remember these things for the rest of her life.

“Bless, O Lord, this ring to be a sign of the vows by which this man and this woman have bound themselves to each other through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.” The vicar looked expectantly at Tris.

“Oh, d—” Tris clamped his lips shut and clutched her hand. “Can we do it without the ring, Mr. Curry?” he implored the vicar.

“Here, my lord.” Dora darted forward, pulling a ring from her pocket. “I never got the chance to return it to you.” Smiling, she dropped the gold and sapphire Trevor betrothal ring onto Tris’s palm.

Speechless, Tris nodded, cleared his throat, and slid the ancestral ring onto her finger. “Violet, I give you this ring as a symbol of my vow…”