Gillian looked up at him and recognized the firm resolve in his clear green eyes. He means it, she realized. With the exception of promising to love her, Colin McElreath meant every word he’d just repeated.
Gillian smiled. Theirs was a hastily thrown together wedding, but Colin repeated his vows as if it had been planned for months or even years. He may not have wanted to marry her, but he made certain that everyone within earshot thought otherwise. He was saving her from her own romantic foolishness, offering himself up as husband to replace the one who had played her false and then abandoned her, but no one listening to him promise to love, honor, and cherish her would ever have reason to doubt him.
She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. Lord Grantham was giving himself over to her, and Gillian vowed that he wouldn’t regret his decision. She didn’t know how or when, but she promised herself that one day, she would earn his respect and his admiration—if not his heart.
“Gillian Davies, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”
“I will.”
The rector had them repeat more vows and make more promises until at last, he paused and asked for the ring.
“Here.” Griff handed Colin a gold wedding band.
Colin stared at the gold band as he waited for Alyssa, Griff’s duchess, to help Gillian unbutton and remove her gloves. He and Griff had purchased the wedding band and the betrothal ring at Dalrymple’s Jewelers earlier that morning.
Colin had still been reeling from the discovery that his father had gambled away the Grantham titular jewels when he made his way to Griff’s Park Lane mansion shortly after dawn.
He hadn’t worried about waking Griff or Alyssa. Griff rarely slept through the night since his return from the Peninsula, and his duchess was known to be an early riser.
They were having coffee in the morning room when Colin rang the front doorbell. Griff and Alyssa invited him to join them, and then listened as Colin relayed the details of his interview with his mother and the fact that the jewelry he’d intended to give to his bride was a collection of paste made from cut glass and base metal.
The revelation came as no surprise. But what was done couldn’t be undone. And no amount of recrimination could change that. Colin needed help. Alyssa and Griff had looked at one another and spoken one word in unison. “Dalrymple’s.”
“Dalrymple’s?” Colin echoed.
“Dalrymple’s Jewelers on Bond Street,” Griff answered as Alyssa held out her left hand so Colin could admire the jeweler’s work.
The Duchess of Avon’s betrothal ring was a delicate confection comprised of a large purple center stone surrounded by a circle of smaller green stones, accented by several diamonds, and set in a gold setting. It looked like a purple flower blooming in the midst of a group of bright green leaves sparkling with droplets of rain or dew.
“It’s lovely,” Colin said. “But I doubt I’ll be able to marshal the finances needed to purchase anything quite as lovely.”
“But the girl you’re marrying is a very wealthy young lady,” Alyssa said.
Colin nodded. “She is. But I’m not. And I refuse to use any portion of her dowry to purchase her betrothal ring. She shouldn’t have to buy her own ring—in whatever fashion. Unfortunately, a betrothal ring equal in value to the one my father gambled away is beyond my current means.” Colin raked his fingers through his hair in a show of frustration. “Where am I going to find a betrothal ring I can afford at this late date?”
“We’d give you the bird’s egg if we could,” Alyssa offered, describing the betrothal ring with the huge canary yellow diamond that Griff had refused to present to her. “But it’s an Abernathy family heirloom, and it’s so horribly big and gaudy no one with taste wants to wear it.” She looked at Colin. “I’m the second or third Abernathy bride to prefer something smaller. The only person we know who loves it is the Prince Regent.”
“And your mother,” Griff added. “And not because it’s beautiful but because it’s worth a bloody fortune.” He paused for a moment, then turned to Colin. “Don’t worry. Everything is going to be fine.”
“How can I help but worry?” Colin asked. “I’m getting married at ten, and the jewelers on Bond Street—including your favorite, Dalrymple’s—don’t open until nine, and I’ve no betrothal or wedding ring to offer.”
Griff laughed. “It’s times like these when it pays to be a very good customer.”
“I’m not a good customer,” Colin replied. “I’m not any kind of customer.”
“I am.”
“Are you planning to write me a letter of introduction?” Colin asked.
“No.” Griff shook his head. “I intend to do better than that. I’m your best man, and since you’ve no experience in the purchase of fine jewelry, I intend to go with you and see that you purchase a ring worthy of your viscountess.”
“What do I use as capital?” Colin asked. “I don’t have a king’s ransom to spend on a betrothal ring.”
“You won’t need it. Not with Dalrymple. His work is original and quite beyond the pale. He uses the highest quality stones and settings, and he’ll create companion pieces to match anything you choose as a betrothal ring.” Griff looked at Colin. “He’s the best, and it just so happens that he’s been itching to get a close look at the bird’s egg to see if there is any way to tastefully reset it without cutting the diamond. I’ll wager we can work out an arrangement to make your purchases more affordable.”
“Griff...” Colin started to protest, but Griff wouldn’t hear of it.
“I’ll stand good for any pieces you choose until you’re able to pay for them.”