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“They’d be fools not to,” Jo said with a grin. She wiped her eyes, realizing she’d been crying. How odd, she didn’t even notice. But what’s more, for once, these had been tears of joy. “Thank you, dear. I don’t know what I would do without you.” She squeezed Selena’s hands. And she meant every word. Perhaps Selena didn’t always give the best advice. Both Jo and Selena had made a fair share of mistakes. But Selena had always had Jo’s best interest at heart. And Jo was eternally grateful for that.

“Fortunately, you won’t ever need to find out.” Selena winked and skipped away.

Jo wiped at her tears and groaned. She needed to freshen up. She couldn’t continue rehearsing with tear stains on her face. So she shuffled away toward her dressing room.

She took her time to put herself back to rights. She used the chamber pot, cleaned herself up, pinned her hair, and with one last glance at her looking glass left her room with a skip in her step.

She didn’t go far. The moment she opened the door, she nearly crashed into Mick, who stood in her doorway, his face dark.

Jo looked around. A few steps away, Garret stood, watching the pair intently. Jo felt slightly better knowing that she wasn’t alone.

“What were you two so lively about back there?” Mick asked in a low voice.

Jo met his gaze. “Why would you assume you have the right to know?”

Mick snorted. “You seem rather brave after your fancy man’s last visit. Don’t you think you’ll get away with it.” He touched his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

Jo threw another glance toward Garret, who already stood closer than before, obviously listening to the conversation.

“Oh, I saw your attack dog,” Mick said between his teeth. “And he won’t be able to protect you forever.” He leaned down and kissed her on the corner of her lips before she could react.

Jo wiped her mouth with the back of her hand in disgust, and by the time she looked up, he was already gone. The pig.

Chapter 23

Getting the Archbishop of Canterbury to sign the special license was not an easy feat.

Richard had used every bit of cunning and guile he had in his arsenal to charm the old man. He’d asked, urged, then pleaded, all in a rather polite manner until His Grace had agreed that marrying an actress was indeed considered as having extenuating circumstances to forego the banns and public church marriage.

Therefore, three days later, Richard stood in the Marquess of Vane’s drawing room, Jo’s hands in his as the minister pronounced them husband and wife.

The wedding guests were limited. Only Richard’s siblings had been invited—Sam had arrived from the Clydesdale estate just in time—and Selena.

And the small, intimate marriage was the perfect beginning to their rather scandalous union.

They’d be the center of attention soon enough. And Richard was glad they could avoid the farce of a large church ceremony.

Richard wanted to hold his wedding at his own townhouse, but Isabel insisted on hosting it herself. She had been right.

Isabel had decorated the drawing room and prepared a wonderful wedding feast in the breakfast room, neither of which Richard would have thought to do.

Looking into Jo’s bright eyes, he knew that she didn’t care about the ceremony at all, but he was glad he was able to give her a celebration. Even if it was just a small one.

As they left the drawing room, Millie threw seeds and rice at their feet, with Button barking his approval. Jo laughed as she hugged the girl, then scratched the dog on his head.

She was happy.

As Richard watched his wife chatting animatedly with his family members, fitting right into the bosom of their little family, he realized in amazement that she was, in fact, his family now.

He had his own little family.

The thought brought warmth to his heart, and he smiled, thinking that his parents were watching him from heaven. They would approve of Jo, he knew. They would have loved her, too.

After the wedding feast was over, Richard happily led his new bride to his carriage.

“Finally,” he breathed as they settled in their seats and the carriage lurched to a start.

Jo waved the last goodbyes to his family and then turned toward him. “Did you hate it very much?” she asked, her gaze vulnerable. “The ceremony, that is.”