When the final details were settled and the ink had dried, Heathcliff offered his hand in a final agreement.
Ramsey shook his hand firmly. It was done.
Almost.
The ink was dried on the paper, but like so much in life, the most important things lived and breathed.
Ink meant nothing until the words were whispered: I do.
Chapter Thirty
“What have I missed?” Lady Liliah Heightfield asked the moment she came through Grace’s dressing room door. “Oh! You’re lovely! We need to just adjust—”
Grace didn’t have to offer a greeting before Lady Liliah was adjusting a seam in her bodice that her maid apparently hadn’t had quite perfected.
“Good morning, my lady,” Grace replied once Lady Liliah had stepped back to regard Grace’s gown.
“Good morning! Are you in a fit of nerves? I was quite distracted on my wedding morning—”
“That might have had something to do with us fleeing our home and you marrying the earl in secret . . .” Samantha said in a dry tone, even as she grinned and came to stand by her sister.
“That may have contributed to the tension of the morning. But it was a glorious wedding, even if it was rather secretive. I’ve not regretted it one moment. I rather loved the intimate affair rather than the scads of people who would have attended otherwise.”
Samantha nodded. “It was quite dashing.” She turned to Grace then. “That was the first day I met your Lord Sterling.”
Grace smiled, awaiting the rest of the story.
“Indeed. I was quite out of sorts, my big sister rushing us both off from our home, basically fleeing our father and her marrying the scandalous Lord Heightfield in secret, and there he was, attending the wedding and nothing but a picture of calm, or at least, feigned calm. I found out later he was just as tense as the rest of us.”
“I imagine that most of the men were on alert lest Father make a surprise appearance at the wedding.”
“I’m sure that was the general concern,” Samantha replied.
“But it was utterly romantic.”
Samantha smiled. “It was indeed. I’d only just met the earl, and it was clear to see he was a man violently in love.”
“It’s rather clear that both of us are blessed with a love match.” Lady Liliah gave her sister’s arm a squeeze, then she turned to Grace. “And you as well, that much is clear.” She gave her head a little shake. “Lucas and I were quite taken with the change that has come over Ramsey. Never would I have imagined I’d see him in fisticuffs. Well, I didn’t see him in fisticuffs, Lucas did, but you gather my meaning.”
Grace blushed slightly and nodded. “It is rather unlike him.”
“He finally found something stronger than his fear of scandal,” Samantha added.
“Yes. You,” Lady Liliah replied, then turned to Samantha. “That being said, we need to finish here and get you downstairs. What needs to be done next?”
Over the next quarter hour, the ladies assisted Grace in finishing the final touches for her attire. Grace had never had a sister, or a brother for that matter, but she imagined that the chattering, teasing, and advice from both Samantha and Lady Liliah was quite kindred to that of older sisters. The thought was a balm to her nerves all tight with anticipation. She had refused to evaluate her reflection in the mirror until everything was finished, and now that the time had come, she was hesitant to do so.
“Lovely,” Samantha whispered, stepping back and grasping her sister’s hand as they both smiled warmly at Grace.
Encouraged by their responses, Grace turned her gaze to the mirror and smiled at her reflection.
The gown was an amethyst purple, brighter than was the fashion, but the exact color of the irises she’d picked out. The bold color brought her creamy skin to life, accenting the darker highlights of her auburn hair, making it more coffee than the vibrant red tone it usually boasted. Her eyes were clear, highlighted by a hint of kohl, and her cheeks were tinted the faintest shade of pink. But what struck her most was the expression on her face.
Wonder.
Delight.
Expectation.
Love.
It was a combination she’d never seen on herself, and it became her quite beautifully.
She had started out the season convinced she’d fail, convinced that she wouldn’t fit in, and somehow would have to fake being the lady everyone thought she was trained to be. But studying her reflection, she realized that she was that lady: graceful, poised, loved. Well, graceful when not in motion, she amended. Just because she looked utterly ravishing didn’t mean she’d magically be able to waltz without stepping on toes.
It was a day of miracles.
Not a day of the impossible.
“Are you ready?” Samantha asked softly, almost reverently.
Grace gave her reflection one final glance as she memorized it, then turned to Samantha. “I can’t wait.”
Liliah giggled behind her gloved hand. “That’s the spirit.”
Samantha and Liliah advised Grace to wait a moment while they made sure it was the appropriate time for her arrival.
Grace’s hands grew damp under her gloves as she grew nervous. What if Ramsey didn’t arrive on time?
What if he didn’t arrive at all? What if he changed his mind, or what if—Her mind spun in a million different directions, and it was only by sheer force of will that she pulled her thoughts back into line. “No. It will be just fine,” she murmured to herself.
Just as her heartbeat slowed, Samantha and Liliah came down the hall, their lips pinched as if trying to hold back wide grins. It was at times like this that Grace could see the very distinct familial relationship between the sisters. Their expressions were nearly identical.
“Shall we?” Samantha asked, arching a playful brow.
“Let’s,” Grace replied, following the ladies down the hall, down the steps, and into the foyer.
They started toward the small chapel, but Samantha and Liliah didn’t open the doors, rather they kept walking.
“Samantha? I think—”
“Just follow me,” Samantha interrupted.
Grace twisted her lips, but obeyed.
As they traveled down the hall, Grace’s brow furrowed in confusion. They were passing the library, the study, and continuing back toward the end of the hall, but there was nothing there but a door that led to their small courtyard and garden area.
“I—”
“Shh.” Samantha didn’t even turn around, but issued the command efficiently.
Grace twisted her lips, and she increased her pace to walk just behind the ladies. As they reached the door, Samantha spun around with her finger on her lips. “Not a word. And don’t you dare peek till I tell you, are we understood?” Samantha had used her governess voice, and Grace felt obligated to obey, even as her curiosity was piqued severely.
“She must have been a rather strict governess,” Lady Liliah remarked, almost to herself.
“When she needed to be,” Grace replied.
“Which was often,” Samantha answered. “Now, close your eyes. I’m going to open the door and then, when I tell you, you may open your eyes and come out,” Samantha explained.
“Very well.” Grace sighed, her heartbeat picking its pace back up as she awaited the moment she could see what was going on. She closed her eyes. The sound of the door opening was punctuated by a spilling in of light. Samantha sighed, or maybe it was Lady Liliah, and then she heard the shuffling of feet followed by reverent silence.
“Now,” Samantha whispered.
Grace’s eyes flew open, and she blinked, allowing them to adjust to the bright light. As her eyes adjusted, she gasped with surprise at the transformation of the small area.
Brightly colored cloth hung in swags along the edge of the courtyard. The sun shone brightly from between two or three puffy clouds, and the colors, goodness, the colors!
Irises of every color lined the makeshift aisle that led t
oward a purple canopy where Ramsey waited, his eyes trained on her, cataloging every expression of wonder. Her heart pounded with an overwhelming sense of home, of belonging, and she was walking down the aisle toward him before she even gave her feet the command.
A vicar waited at the front, Heathcliff beside him, while Lucas stood just behind Ramsey, grinning at her with a knowing smile.
Heathcliff leaned over to Ramsey, speaking just loud enough for her to hear. “Aye, I think she likes it.”
Ramsey’s grin widened, and he reached out for her hand.
Grace nearly tripped on the small step, she wasn’t paying mind to her path, just the end of it, but she righted herself quickly and placed her hand in his.
The warmth seeped through her, warming her soul, her heart, everything. It was the strangest thing, she had come to London, never feeling more out of place and out of her element, only to find that home was a person rather than a place.
“Hello,” Ramsey greeted her, his grasp on her hand turning to a caress.
Grace’s face heated with a blush from the force of his regard. “Good morning.”
“If you’re ready?” the viscount asked, and upon Ramsey’s nod, the vicar stepped forward.
The older man was balding at the top of his head, and was about the same height as Grace, but much wider in stature. He cleared his throat, gave a somewhat toothless smile, and opened the Book of Common Prayer.
Grace turned to Ramsey, and noted a slightly relieved expression on his face. Fleetingly she wondered what it was about, but the vicar started reading:
DEARLY beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this Congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy Matrimony; which is an honourable estate, instituted of God in the time of man’s innocency, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church; which holy estate Christ adorned and beautified with his presence.
Grace tried to listen to the liturgy, but Ramsey’s slow caress of her hands was utterly distracting, and she wondered if it was a sin to ignore the vicar on one’s wedding day. Certainly God would excuse her inattention when her focus was on her soon-to-be husband.
Thinking the word made her heart do a flip. It had only been a few days, and those days had been so full of planning that she hadn’t had much time to really think about the reality of it. Well, now it was sinking in and it was a heady and delightful prospect.
“WILT thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?
Ramsey met her gaze, his expression severe with the depth of emotion in his eyes. “I will.” He said the words like a vow, an oath, a promise.
A shiver ran down Grace’s back, her flesh starting to goose bump with the gravity of it.
The vicar repeated the words to her.
Never taking her gaze from Ramsey, she slowly nodded and said, “I will.”
His answering grin was nearly blinding in its beauty, and she struggled to keep her emotions in check. She wanted to close the distance between them and kiss him soundly, feel the touch of his hands on her waist, be near him and know the strength of his arms around her.
But the vicar wasn’t finished yet. Soon they completed the rest of their promises and rings, and Grace was bubbling with anticipation for the final words that declared it finished.
FORASMUCH as you have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a ring, and by joining of hands; I pronounce that they be man and wife together, In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.
The vicar paused, and Grace turned to him, wondering why he was waiting. He gave her a grin, then a wink to Ramsey. “You may now kiss your bride.”
Ramsey wasted no time. He swept her into his arms, binding his hands around her waist as he seared his vows upon her lips.
Grace returned the enthusiasm, answering his with her own as she leaned into the kiss, knowing she should act more properly but not caring enough to actually do it, she melted into his arms, lingering in his kiss even as he gentled his attentions to her mouth. She didn’t want it to end.
Then she realized it wasn’t going to end.
They were merely going to take a break . . .
And then, heaven help her, she wouldn’t have to obey propriety any longer.
Ramsey slowly released her. Resting his forehead against hers, he whispered, “I love you.”
Grace bit her lip, soaking in the delight of the moment.
“It is my great honor to announce Lord and Lady Sterling.” The vicar spoke, and their small group erupted into applause. Ramsey released her from his embrace and grasped her hand. Lifting it to his lips he kissed it softly, then tucked it tenderly under his arm as they walked back down the aisle.
Grace trained her eyes on her husband, then back to the aisle, appreciating once again the hue of the irises, the lovely kaleidoscope of colors from the draped fabric, and then she noted the azure sky . . . so much of her biggest and best dreams all a reality.
Yet as she turned to her husband, all of it paled in comparison to the love he held in his eyes when looking at her.
Everything else faded, and all she could think of was having him alone, all to herself, exploring the delights of being in love.
Yet, there was the celebration of the wedding breakfast they still needed to attend.
If she thought she was impatient for the wedding, that was nothing compared to the impatience she felt now. It was going to be a long few hours, but she consoled herself with the idea that anticipation made things better.
Though, she blushed as she thought it, how things could be any better than what she’d already experienced, she had no clue, but she was more than happy to discover it all.
Every, last, part.
Chapter Thirty-one
Ramsey was quite certain of three things:
One: the wedding breakfast was another word for the Catholic’s purgatory.
Two: If he had to wait more than an hour, he was going to make a spectacle of himself as he hightailed it out of the house with his wife.
Three: simply a repetition of number one, purgatory. Or hell, it might be hell.
In fact, as he thought of it, hell was a much better description. Because heaven was near, but out of reach.
For the moment.
Bloody hell, how long did it take to eat breakfast anyway?
He glanced over to Heathcliff, who was watching him with a knowing grin.
Bastard, he knew the torment.
Ramsey cut his gaze over to Lucas, who was watching him as well. Only the idiot lifted his glass of champagne in salute.
He needed better friends.
No. That wasn’t true, but he did need to get out of the Kilpatrick House so that he might finally have some privacy with his wife.
Dear Lord, how he loved to say it. Never did he think he’d see the day, but here he was.
He turned to watch Grace. She was utterly beautiful, a siren if he ever saw one, and all his. Her eyes had been alight with wonder, delight, and emotion as she saw the garden all decorated with her “kaleidoscope of color,” as Samantha had said. And he loved the touch of the irises, it was duly appropriate. And her gown, he was utterly undone the moment he saw it. It was bold, vibrant, colorful, and full of life, just like her. It was Grace’s character, in color form and perfect.
The vicar wasn’t even half bad. He’d been utterly grateful when he noted it wasn’t the same as Lucas had used . . . thank the Lord for small favors.
All in all, the wedding was perfect. Now if he could just suffer through the wedding breakfast, the world would be damn near perfect as well.
<
br /> At least his world.
They were finishing the last course when Heathcliff stood, raising his glass.
“Never thought I’d see the day, and I can’t tell you how thankful I am to be wrong. I give you my sincerest blessing, and my greatest gift—” he winked, “—an early end to the wedding breakfast.”
Ramsey chuckled.
Lucas lifted his glass. “Hear, hear!”
The ladies giggled and Ramsey lost no time standing and giving his thanks. “Have I mentioned you’re my favorite friend, Heathcliff?” Ramsey teased, moving to pull out Grace’s seat.
“It was my idea,” Lucas replied dryly.
“It was a group effort,” Heathcliff amended.
“Then I thank you both and you both have the deepest appreciation from the bottom of my heart.” Ramsey gave a little bow as Grace waited beside him.
“Ach, be gone with you. Save your pretty words.”
“And your strength,” Lucas chimed in.
Ramsey was quite certain he heard Lady Liliah groan with embarrassment, but he didn’t turn to see if he was accurate in his assessment. He was already heading out the door with Grace.
His carriage was already out front, waiting, and Ramsey decided that his friends needed some fantastic French brandy for their thoughtfulness, a detail he’d see to much later.
Much, much later.
He finally had Grace all to himself, and had no intention of wasting any of these precious moments.
“Well, that was generous of them,” Grace said, giving him a shy smile from the other side of the carriage, which, Ramsey decided, was much too far away.
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