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Why Do Rogues Fall in Love?

Page 123

by Stacy Reid

He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "My good friends, the Duke and Duchess of Basil, the Earl of Grantham, the Earl and Countess of Radboure, and the Earl and Countess of Raine will be there to witness our wedding in the morning at the chapel attached to my estate."

Cordelia stared at him. He had arranged everything. While she had been lying in her bedchamber weeping over the possibility of losing him, George had been making preparations for their marriage.

Her heart swelled so fiercely that she scarcely knew whether to laugh or cry.

"Unfortunately," George continued, turning his attention back to her parents, "my own mother and father will not be present. My father is rather convinced that I should marry Viscountess Bramwell, and my mother finds herself in the difficult position of supporting him."

His expression cooled. "However, there is no force on earth that could convince me to marry Lady Bramwell, and I have no intention of allowing anyone to dictate my choice of bride."

Lady Ashford pressed a hand against her chest.

George inclined his head. "If you have no objection to this elopement, I shall await you outside in our carriage while you ready yourselves to travel with us to Derbyshire."

Cordelia blinked. Her parents were invited? She looked up at George, overwhelmed by another rush of affection. He had thought of everything, even how much it would mean to her to have her mother and father witness her marriage.

Her mother's eyes grew wider and wider.

George appeared not to notice. "Furthermore, while it is customary for the bride's family to provide a dowry, I should like to present a betrothal gift in the amount of twenty thousand pounds, in the hope that it might help my soon-to-be parents relieve some of their debts and burdens."

Lady Ashford made a peculiar choking sound.

Cordelia's father went perfectly still. For several moments, he simply stared at George, as though he could scarcely comprehend what had been said. Then he released a long, slow breath. "Twenty thousand pounds?"

George nodded. "Indeed."

"My lord, that is an extraordinary sum."

"I consider it a small price for the privilege of marrying your daughter."

Cordelia felt tears prick her eyes. Her father looked at her. Something in his expression softened as he observed the way she stood beside George, her hand clasped securely in his. Then he stepped forward and offered his hand. George shook it.

"If you will give us an hour, Lord Templeton," her father said, his voice thick with emotion, "we shall have our carriage brought around, for we would be very honored to witness our daughter's wedding."

Cordelia's heart gave a great, joyful leap. "Oh, Papa!"

Her father smiled faintly.

George bowed his head. "Excellent. I shall expect you within the hour." He turned and gently tugged Cordelia toward the front door.

They had taken scarcely three steps when her father cleared his throat. "Lord Templeton."

George stopped and glanced over his shoulder, one brow lifting. "My lord?"

"Our daughter will travel with us to Derbyshire," Lord Ashford said stiffly. "It is only proper."

George regarded him for a moment. Then he nodded. "I understand."

Cordelia's heart sank a little. She had so wanted to remain with him.

George continued. "But no."

Her father's brows shot upward. "I beg your pardon?"

"I cannot bear the thought of having Cordelia out of my sight, lest another conspiracy attempt to steal her away from me." The warmth vanished from his expression. "I have no wish to offend you, Lord Ashford, but recent events have made it rather difficult for me to place my trust in those who have already failed to protect her happiness."

Cordelia's breath caught.

George's voice remained perfectly civil. "I have no doubt that my trust will eventually grow, but at this moment, I am unwilling to risk losing her again."