“No, he doesn’t, does he?”
Bishop Burghley, a very old friend of Lady Lucia’s, presided over the very private wedding. A bluff, florid-faced man, he carried out his part with superb theatrics, his booming baritone overshadowing the vows of the handsome Captain Carstairs and his lovely young bride.
Victoria was at once excited, scared, and filled with anticipation. She gazed up at Rafael when he quietly repeated his vows. He was kind, gentle, and he would be a good husband. He was also stubborn and occasionally autocratic. He would come to care for her, she would try very hard to make it so. And he didn’t want a marriage of convenience. Surely that meant that he wanted to make it a true commitment to her, to their marriage, to their future.
She heard a slight movement behind her, but didn’t turn around. Only the Hawksburys, the Marquess of Chandos, Lucia, and her servants were in attendance. Perhaps, she thought whimsically, Lucia was dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief.
“Your vows, my dear.”
Victoria started. The bishop was looking benignly at her and Rafael was grinning. “Say you’ll have me, Victoria.”
“I will . . . I do,” she said. “Oh, yes, I do.”
When Bishop Burghley completed his exhortations on the sanctity of marriage, he said in his most genial voice, “You may kiss your bride, Captain.”
“I will do my best,” said Rafael as he lifted the gauzy veil.
Victoria raised her face to his and felt his lips lightly touch her closed mouth.
“Hello, wife,” he said.
His words were drowned out by the applause of their friends and the servants and the rounds of congratulations. They both turned as one, and in that instant Rafael met his brother’s eyes. Damien was standing at the back of the drawing room, his arms folded over his chest. He was wearing morning garb and Hessians. It was an insult.
Rafael felt Victoria stiffen beside him and gave her a quick hug. “There is nothing he can do, Victoria. You remain here and I will get him on his way.”
Hawk found himself staring from Damien to Rafael and back again. “Good Lord,” he said to Frances, “they are like two peas in a pod.”
“And one a dangerous pea,” she said.
“Rafael will rout the bounder,” said the marquess.
“Well, brother, I see that you have indeed bound yourself to her. A pity, for you, that is.”
“What the devil are you doing here, Damien?”
“It occurred to me, brother, that you didn’t know the truth of things. I wanted to speak to you before you made the mistake of your life, but you weren’t here last evening.” Damien didn’t add that he’d looked everywhere for his twin and had been furious at his failure to find him. And he hadn’t been in time this morning. They were already married. He continued, “Being your loving twin, I was seeking only to spare you disappointment and humiliation.”
“Get out, Damien.”
“Afraid of the truth, Rafael? Perhaps you already know the truth. Of course, it isn’t the first time, is it, that we have shared the same girl?”
Rafael stiffened, his eyes narrowed, and his hands fisted at his sides. “No more filthy references to Patricia. That is over and done with. Now, come with me to the library. I wish to get this over with once and for all.”
Damien followed him willingly enough, casting one final glance at Victoria, who was staring at him, her face as white as the Valenciennes lace at the throat of her wedding gown. He smiled at her and gave her a small, mocking salute. It was both a threat and a promise, and Victoria knew fear.
Rafael closed the library door. “Now, Damien, the only reason I didn’t kick you out is that I want to know if you have returned the fifteen thousand pounds.”
Damien ran a negligent finger over his coat of pale brown superfine. “Oh, yes, indeed I did. I wouldn’t want my own dear brother not to have all that is his due upon his marriage to that little slut. To palliate your disappointment, perhaps.”
“Do you want me to kill you?”
The Rafael of today wasn’t the Rafael of five years before. Damien wasn’t fooled by those softly spoken words. He believed him, believed that Rafael would kill, believed that his life had led him to know death and fighting. “Not at all. What I want is for you to know the truth.”
“What truth is that, damn you?”
Damien walked away from his brother, saying over his shoulder in a calm, nearly disinterested voice, “I assume that Victoria told you what a blackguard I am?”
“Yes, I managed to pry it out of her. It wasn’t difficult. When I rescued her, she thought I was you.”