“Your wife has saved a seat for you,” Fabian said, casting Estelle a covert grin. “But you’ve no need to go inside just yet.”
“Is the Reverend Sykes not ready?”
“He’s ready,” Fabian said, “but you cannot enter the church without the bride.”
Mr Erstwhile looked at Estelle, a little confused.
Estelle turned and hugged him. “My brother must give me away,” she said, “but I would like you to assist him.”
“Me?” Mr Erstwhile covered his heart with his hand. “Oh, but I could not intrude.”
“Sir, Estelle would like us both to escort her to Lord Trevane.”
Tears welled in the man’s eyes. “You would?”
“I would,” Estelle said, struggling to hold back her own tears.
A look of pride and joy brightened Mr Erstwhile’s countenance. “Then it would stand as one of the greatest honours of my life.”
A few tears did fall, and they all took a moment to compose themselves before heading into the church.
Ross looked immaculate in a dark blue coat and gold waistcoat. Their gazes locked, and he mouthed I love you. His eyes held a look of promise that warmed her core and left her anticipating what the night would bring. There was a glimpse of the younger man about him. The happy, carefree lord who’d chased her about the orchard and swore to love and protect her until his dying day.
Afterwards, they dined in the great hall in what proved to be rowdy celebration organised by Mackenzie. Fabian’s men joined them, as did Wickett.
“Look at Wickett,” Ross said, leaning in and whispering in Estelle’s ear as they sat at the long table on the dais. He took the opportunity to kiss her cheek, pressed another on her jaw. “Fabian’s men are plying him with drink. I might see if one of them can get him to sing or dance. It will give me ammunition when he attempts to tease me.”
“You have rather an unconventional relationship with your coachman,” Estelle said, sliding her hand under the table to grip his muscular thigh. She found she could not keep her hands off her husband.
Ross sucked in a breath as her hand edged higher. “The man has saved my life on more than one occasion though I would never tell him that.”
Estelle’s fingers settled on the fall of his breeches and caressed him in slow, sensual strokes. “Perhaps he’s not the only one with the ability to tease you.”
“Then you should know I’m a man with a hunger for revenge.” He met her gaze and whispered, “Would you like me to make you come in front of all these people?”
Had she been sipping her wine, she might have choked. “How would you do that?” She had to admit to being a little excited.
“Trust me. No one would know.”
“That is simply not possible.”
Ross raised a brow. “Is that a challenge, Lady Trevane?”
Estelle loved this playful side of him. He looked so different from the dangerous devil who had dragged her into a coaching inn and forced her to tell her tale. “I cannot see how you would have an opportunity.”
Ross gestured to the men setting up the music stands in the far corner. “In a minute, Mackenzie has arranged for Fabian to play his fiddle while everyone dances. We don’t have to join them on the floor straight away.”
“I highly doubt our guests will let us sit out.”
Ross placed his napkin on the table, stood and moved to speak to Fabian. Her brother looked at her and then nodded.
“What did you say?” she said when Ross returned to his seat.
“I said you were feeling a little hot, a little overwhelmed by the events of the day, and we would sit out for the first dance and join them for the second.”
Ross proceeded to tell her exactly what he wanted to do to her in bed that night. The precise details fired a heat between her thighs that was soon a blazing inferno. How was it she was panting with arousal and he’d not even touched her yet?
When Mackenzie stood, banged his gavel and instructed them the dancing was to commence, Ross placed his hand on her thigh.