by Ella Quinn
“I cannot.” She shook her head again. But her face had lost the anger. Now she just looked tired as she rubbed her heart with a fisted hand. “It still will not work. You need an heir, and having a child would hinder me from achieving what I need.”
He was so close he could feel the heat rising from Augusta. Her full breasts rose and fell with each breath she took. The closer he got, the more her nipples furled into tight buds, visible through her nightgown and robe. She might not know it, but she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He had to make her understand how much they needed each other.
“You were right in London when you told me I didn’t love you.” Phinn was so close now her gown grazed his bare feet. “I do now, Augusta. More than I ever knew it was possible for a man to love a woman. Ever since we were at Versailles, I’ve been trying to show you how much I love you.”
Closing her eyes, she pulled her lower lip between strong white teeth. God, how he wanted to kiss those lips. “That does not change what I need for my life.”
He kept his hands at his sides. If he allowed them loose, only the Fates knew what he’d do. “I could not take that away from you. I want for you what you want for yourself.”
She opened her deep blue eyes and met his gaze. “You have to go back to England and have an heir.”
“That is going to be hard to do when the only woman I want to marry is right here.” Her breasts rose again, begging him to take them in his mouth. “If it means leaving you, my brother can make his own heir.” Her breath came faster, but neither of them moved. “We’ll go to Padua, and you will attend the university. There is plenty of architecture for me to study in Italy.” He gave her a rueful grin. “You won’t want me around when you are studying for your examinations.”
Her eyes widened as she searched his. “You’re serious?”
“Augusta.” He moved his hands to the wall on either side of her. “I will do anything to make you happy. My life has no meaning without you.”
Her eyes were large and dilated. If he reached for her, would she come to him? What must this be costing her?
“But marriage means children.”
“There are ways not to have them until you are ready.” He brushed his lips across hers. “You can attend university. Afterward, if you like, we can travel anywhere you wish. We won’t have children until you’re ready for them.” He held her tightly, tucking her head beneath his chin. “Believe in me, please. I love you, and I will not disappoint you.”
“But what if—” He took her mouth with his.
Damn. She was so sweet. He should have kissed her before. “Believe in us. Believe that we can do anything together.”
Her lips softened beneath his. When he ran his tongue across the seam of her mouth, she opened for him. When her arms slid around his neck, he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. With one hand, he cupped a breast, and with the other he pressed her to him. “Will you be my partner in life and marry me?”
“Yes.” She pulled his head down, leaning her forehead against his. “Yes, I will marry you.”
“Thank God!” Sweeping her up into his arms, he carried her to the bed. Yet, now was the time to keep one of his promises. “Where are you in your cycle?”
She didn’t even flinch. “I finished my courses a few days ago.”
“Are you regular?”
“I wasn’t when I first left England, but I am again. To the hour.”
“In that case, we’re safe.”
“Not yet we are not.” Augusta scurried off the bed. “You, sir, must wait until after the wedding. One of the other marriage customs is hanging the sheet.”
“You want to wed here?” After what had happened, he couldn’t be more surprised.
“Why not? We’re not going back to England for the ceremony.” She kissed the corner of his mouth, resisting when he tried to claim her lips again. “I like Father Christophe, and he did say the chapel brought one luck.”
“All very valid points. Let’s tell Father Christophe he can marry us.” He jumped off the bed. “Musson!” Phinn shouted. “Lady Augusta and I require baths.”
Peals of laughter came from the chamber bordering hers. Damn. He’d forgotten all about her family.
“The tubs are being filled in the bathing rooms, my lord.”
He pulled her into his arms again and kissed her. “We’ll continue this later.”
It wasn’t until he was dressed and ready to find the chapel that he remembered the ring. “Musson, I need my jewel box.”
“I have the wedding ring here.” Boman held up the ring composed of platinum and sapphires. Phinn had had it made in Paris.
“Then all I need is a bride.” He started toward Augusta’s bedchamber.
“You may not see her before you arrive at the church step,” Prue called from beyond the closed door. “That is the castle custom. There will also be broken glass for her to step over.”
He’d heard of the church steps. That dated back centuries in various places. But broken glass was new. Still, there was no way he would allow her to stroll through the castle without him guarding her. Not with Celje about. “She needs to be protected.”
Prue laughed again. “No more than you do.”
At first Phinn didn’t understand, but then it dawned on him, if he was missing there couldn’t be a ceremony. How the devil were they going to do this? “Give me a moment.”
Despite what Lady Celje said, he couldn’t bring himself to trust anyone who was not in their party. Even her ladyship’s guards had not been able to keep that idiot from gaining access to Augusta’s chamber. He lowered his voice. “Musson, I want all of our people armed and up here immediately.”
“Yes, my lord.” He dashed out of the room.
“I know that look,” Boman said. “You have a scheme.”
Phinn nodded. “We shall go first. Augusta will follow, but we’ll go as a group.”
“I’ll tell the others.”
The dowager countess said she’d send a footman to guide them to the castle’s chapel. Phinn would follow behind the servant, accompanied by Boman. Both had their pistols. According to the plan Phinn had drawn up, they’d be followed by Jane and Prue. Augusta and Addison would be last, but they’d have the rest of their servants grouped around them. Two of the grooms remained with the coaches and the outriders who’d refused to go against Celje’s men in the castle proper.
A knock sounded on the door between Augusta’s chamber and his bedroom. Addison walked in carrying a letter bag. “There are some details we must discuss before the ceremony.” He placed the satchel on the desk, and took out a thick stack of papers. “I received these from Worthington when we were in Vienna. In the event Augusta married.”
“A settlement agreement?” Phinn took them from the older man and began to read documents. “He made sure she is well protected financially.”
“It is my understanding that her sisters and Lady Merton had essentially the same agreement. I know Jane does.”
He continued to read until he reached the part that concerned his finances. How the hell had Worthington found out . . . Dorchester. That devil. The assistance he’d given Phinn, and the letter, made a great deal more sense. His brother had always intended for him to marry Augusta.
He sharpened a pen, dipped it in the inkwell, signed the document, and handed it back to Addison. What did one say now?
Thankfully, Addison slapped Phinn on the back. “Welcome to the family.”
He wished his family could be here too. “Speaking of family, is Augusta ready?”
“If not quite yet, then soon. The ladies are taking care of some English traditions.”
Once their servants had been assembled, Phinn gave them their positions, then he and Boman went into the corridor to find a footman standing against the wall. “Her ladyship sent me to escort you to the chapel.”
Boman knocked on Augusta’s door. “Are you ready for us to start down?”
“Yes,” Jane replied.
/> Durant stepped out from Addison’s room. “As soon as you pass me, her ladyship shall step into the corridor.”
“Let’s go.” There was indeed a small pile of broken glass at the entrance to the ladies’ chamber.
A few moments later, high-pitched laughter echoed from behind him. Phinn grinned to himself. The day would not be horrible after all. The footman led them down the grand stone staircase to the hall. He’d expected the chapel to be in the back of the castle somewhere; instead his senses pricked as the butler opened the front door. Once he passed through, he saw the small church positioned across the courtyard. He glanced up, almost expecting to see archers high on the crenellated roof, but there were none. This was the nineteenth century. Jane’s talk of gothic novels must be affecting his thinking.
Phinn and his secretary took their places on the church steps, to the right of Father Christophe. Even though he knew a marriage performed under the laws of the country was legal in England, when they arrived in Venice, he’d make sure the marriage was registered with the British Consul.
Boman nudged Phinn with his elbow. Augusta’s escorts had dispersed to form a half circle around them, as she climbed the shallow steps. She was exquisite, and all of her would soon be his. His gaze dropped to her hands. Instead of flowers, she held her pistol. He wished she could have a proper wedding with all of her family and friends, and a posy instead of a gun.
Chapter Thirty-Five
As soon as Phinn left the room, Jane, Prue, and Gobert flew into action.
“My lady,” Gobert said. “You must choose a gown. I recommend the blue you had made in Paris, with the embroidery traveling up from the hem.”
The dress looked as if a flower garden was growing up the skirts. The same pattern was on the puffed sleeves. It was the most beautiful gown Augusta owned, and the most sophisticated. “I agree. I shall wear my pearls.”
She bathed in the dressing room, and afterward Prue took out the basket of food they had packed for yesterday’s travel, and they broke their fast. Earlier a maid had come, asking if the ladies would like breakfast, but after the abduction attempt, no one trusted the castle fare.
Her cousins exchanged looks with each other. Then Jane blushed and took a breath. “I suppose we should explain what to expect when you and Phinn consummate the marriage.”
Augusta decided to confess that she was not ignorant of the details. “Dotty already told me what, when, where, and how it happened.”
“Wonderful!” Jane smiled, looking relieved.
“Did she explain what happened before the actual act?” Prue asked.
That was something Augusta had not asked about. “No, I did not think it mattered.”
“Ah. As it is about to happen, you might want a bit more information.”
Once again, Jane’s cheeks were painted red. “That is actually the part that makes a lady want to have the rest.”
Augusta’s breast tingled with the memory of Phinn touching it. “Oh! Such as kissing and the like?”
“Mm-hm.” Prue nodded and began to explain all the ways a man could kiss a woman to make her want him, and other things he’d do to make relations easier for her. “It will still hurt, but, if he is careful, it won’t be as painful as it could be otherwise.”
During the explanation, Augusta had grown warm thinking of Phinn’s mouth on her body and his hands touching her. She pressed her palms to her cheeks. “I’m not sure I will be able to look him in the eyes, knowing what will occur.”
Her cousin laughed. “You’ll be fine. And if you blush as prettily when you do look at him, he will love you all the more.”
“Well, now that that is over”—Jane rose—“we have a few things for you.” She took out a velvet pouch from her valise she had brought in with her, handing it to Augusta. “Something old from the Vivers side.”
Augusta opened the bag and drew out a long strand of matched pearls. “These are beautiful! But how—?”
“Grace. She did not know if you would decide to marry, but she wanted me to be prepared.”
Tears pricked Augusta’s eyes and she blinked them away. “She must be the wisest person I know.”
“Something borrowed,” Prue said, handing Augusta a coin. “It’s a Roman coin I found in Spain. It has brought me good luck.”
“Something blue and new.” Jane held out a ring. “This is from Hector and me. We bought it in Paris after he decided that Phinn was falling in love with you.”
Augusta put it on the index finger of her right hand. “Why did he not tell me?”
Her cousin smiled indulgently. “It is always better for a man and a woman to hear it from the other person.”
“Unless they are being complete idiots.” Prue’s tone was as dry as dust, but her eyes twinkled. “In your case, you had goals that were making marriage more complicated.”
Prue’s maid came into the chamber carrying a sack. “I brought the extra pistol as you asked.”
“Thank you. I hope we’ll not need it.” She removed the weapon from the bag. “It’s loaded?”
“Indeed it is.” The maid looked affronted. “It’s no use if it’s not.”
“Gobert, I’d like you to carry it.”
“It would be my honor, my lady.”
Augusta would take hers as well. It was a shame they could not depart directly after the ceremony.
Less than an hour later, they were all dressed and waiting on the signal to make their way to the church.
A knock came on the door. “His lordship has passed, my lady.”
Prue opened the door and started to laugh. “Apparently, the dowager countess wished to give you some luck. You must step over the broken glasses.”
Augusta started to laugh as well. “I hope it works.”
There were so many of their servants between her and Phinn, the first sight of him she had was on the church steps. He had dressed in a Prussian-blue jacket, over a lighter blue waistcoat with gold stripes. His linen, as always, was snowy white, and a gold pin nestled in the folds of his cravat.
His eyes locked with hers as she climbed the steps. She truly had been blind. How had she not seen before how much he loved her?
“Good morning.” Father Christophe glanced at their pistols. “I do not like weapons in the church, but my nephew has gone mad, therefore I shall allow it. I promise you he will be punished. Shall we begin?”
Hector gave her hand into the priest’s, who then took Phinn’s hand, turning it so it held hers. “In times past, I would have tied a ribbon around your hands. It is enough that you hold each other’s hands as we walk into the church.” He led them into the chuch, and, after their party was settled in the pews, began the ceremony.
Phinn was in the process of saying his vows when the church door slammed against the wall, and Viscount Celje stood in the entrance, his arm in a sling and his hand bandaged. The priest glared, and Augusta pointed her pistol at the intruder. Prue and the others quickly followed suit.
“Pavle.” Father Christophe’s hard tone echoed in the chapel. “Remain there. If you do not, I will not blame our visitors for shooting you again.” Inclining his head, he continued with the service.
“The ring.” Boman handed it to Father Christophe, who blessed it before glancing at the pistols she and Phinn held.
She glanced down. “Oh, Prue, I need both hands. Will you take this for a moment?”
“Of course.” Augusta handed her cousin her pistol.
Phinn gave his to Boman. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He grinned. “This has to be the most interesting wedding I’ve ever attended.”
Turning back to the priest, Phinn nodded. “Please continue.”
A few minutes later, Father Christophe pronounced them man and wife, then whispered, “I would waste no time getting her to bed.”
“Don’t worry, Father.” Phinn grinned as Augusta’s cheeks heated. “I won’t.”
They regained their pistols, and she took a deep breath. She’d h
ate to have to shoot someone on the way to her wedding bed. “Are you ready?”
“I am.” Phinn sounded confident. “Be prepared to run.”
“That is the reason I wore half-boots instead of slippers.”
They made it to the hall before he whispered, “Now.”
Pelting up the stairs, they made it to her bedchamber, closed the door, locked it, and moved a chest in front of it. From the chambers next to them, it was clear their family, friends, and servants were doing the same thing.
Suddenly a fiddler started to play.
Augusta stared at the door. “What in Heaven’s name is that for?”
“It’s to mask our sounds.” Phinn took off his shoes and started on his cravat.
“What sounds?”
The cravat dropped to the floor. “You’ll see.” His lips fluttered across hers and she opened her mouth. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am that we are not able to take all night for this.”
She pushed his jacket over his arms. “We’ll have time later.”
“Should I call your maid to take your hair down?” He went to work on her buttons.
Once her bodice sagged, she removed her arms from the sleeves. “I can do it.”
“Oh, God.” Having removed her petticoat and stays, he cupped her breasts. “I’ve never seen anything so perfect.”
Dipping his head, he took one nipple in his mouth, and Augusta’s back arched, pressing into him. Moaning, she finally understood the fiddler’s purpose. “You are still dressed.”
In a trice, the rest of his clothing lay on the floor. “Come, my lady wife. Let’s to bed.”
Swooping her into his arms as he had earlier, he placed her gently on the bed, then followed. Their lips met again, but this time she could feel his hot skin and muscular chest. Thick light brown hair covered his chest, and she wanted to run her fingers through it.
She protested when his kisses moved from her mouth to her neck and lower, licking her breasts and stomach. Fire flowed through her veins, and her hips, knowing what they were about, lifted.
“I hope I’m not going to shock you, but this is the fastest way.” His mouth covered her mons, and all the heat, all the need that had been growing, coalesced there.