It's Beginning to Look a lot Like Scandal

Her laugh made him happy, just seeing her filled his heart with joy. And the memory of the way she had taken him into her body had him biting back a groan. She was the most incredible lover he’d ever had, but it was more than that. Graham wanted to fulfill every need and hunger he had spied in her eyes as they had talked in the cabin. He wanted to lay all her dreams at her feet and provide his shoulders to rest upon whenever she needed them.

He had never been a man given to flights of fancy or over-sentimentality, and that was how he had known the feelings rushing through his heart and tormenting his mind were the deepest of tendre.

Graham glanced at his father. He was already waiting by the altar, walking up and down agitated and trying not to fiddle with the neat arrangement of his cravat. The earl had worn a golden silk waistcoat with a pale gray suit of clothes for his special day. He looked dashing despite his impatience for his bride to arrive.

Despite their argument, Graham had agreed to be his best man, so he waited with him, somewhat amused by his father’s nerves. They had greeted the tenants and neighbors who had appeared at the church and shaken many hands. The chapel was far enough from the house in this inclement weather to necessitate them driving along the lanes in a stream of carriages, which had deposited them at the chapel door before parking as best they could. For the coachmen, it would be a cold wait.

Among the guests, there were undercurrents of excitement, surprise, and some chagrin by Miss Penelope Barrows over the unexpected marriage of so sought-after a groom. They were still gossiping together as they filed into the chapel to find their seats. As the last guest seated, a hush settled over the small gathering as they waited for the bride. They were listening for one last carriage to appear, and then in the distance, they heard the clip-clop of the earl’s high-stepping matched grays, as he had decided his best team should honor the bride on their wedding day.

The carriage pulled up outside the old ivy-clad chapel, and a footman raced to let the step down. The three bridesmaids gracefully descended, all dressed in white, although their dresses did not match; they had chosen to be warmly wrapped in festive shawls of scarlet, crimson, and green. His sister, Emma, who would become their stepsister had joined Callie and Letty.

Christ. As he would become their stepbrother.

Graham did his best not to stare at Callie’s loveliness. This morning she wore a low-cut white gown, with her hair caught in a loose chignon. She met his eyes, and her cheeks blushed apple red. Then she hurriedly looked away. He tore his gaze from her and concentrated on the carriage, hating the heaviness forming in his heart.

They waited while the bride was handed out. Lady Danby wore a pale blue gown she had covered with her dark gray cloak to travel the scant distance to the chapel. She shrugged off its warmth to enter the church, and Callie handed it to the footman. Sometime overnight they had located a long cream veil in priceless Chantilly lace upon which was set a small diamond tiara, which was part of the Wynter family jewels. Bouquets of ivy and white roses had been made, and each of the girls carried a smaller version of the one the viscountess carried herself. The bride had chosen not to be given away as she was a widow, an orphan, and of age. So she would walk down the short aisle alone, followed by her daughters and soon to be stepdaughter.

The chapel was not provided with an organ or piano to accompany the congregation, but a string quartet who had been employed for the house party entertainment had been installed in the choir stalls and struck up a pretty piece of music by Purcell for Lady Danby to process to.

Evidently trying to ease her nerves, she waited until the first phrases had floated through the chapel, and then she plant a joyful smile on her face. As the sweet music floated through her, she relaxed, and the smile became genuine. She straightened her back and set a dignified slow march down the aisle, followed by the three lovely girls in white. When she reached the front of the chapel, she handed her bouquet to Callie and smiled at her groom. The bridesmaids took the seats reserved for them and waited while their parents were led in their vows.

Throughout the ceremony, Graham only had eyes for Callie, and she did her best to not look in his direction. Was she genuinely indifferent to him, and yesterday in the cottage had simply been a once only experience for her?

The idea that she might feel nothing for him gnawed at his gut. The rest of the ceremony and wedding breakfast passed in a blur.

“I’ve always wanted a Christmas wedding,” he heard the new countess say at one point. “But I thought that delight would be reserved for one of my daughters.”

“Oh Mama,” Callie said, laughing. “I am glad it was you! I am certain I will remain a spinster.”

“Oh, pish! That lovely Dr. Harcourt couldn’t stop staring at you today. I daresay he will come calling soon.”

As if caressed by his stare, Callie glanced up at him. She didn’t reject her mother’s claim; she only stared back at him. When the countess saw him, she beamed. “Here comes your new brother!”

Sweet Christ, it was torturous. He wanted to roar he was not her bloody brother but gravely kept his lips sealed. The cravat seemed to tighten around his throat when a mocking smile tipped Callisto’s lips, and she greeted,

“Hello, Brother.”

Ice filled his veins as he glanced at her with utter disbelief. “Ah…sister Callisto,” he quipped.

Graham wasn’t sure what she saw in his face, but the sarcastic smile slipped from her mouth, and she laced her fingers together.

“We must make the best of the situation,” she said with quiet emphasis, casting a careful glance at her mother, to ensure the countess did not overhear. But she was busy receiving congratulations from her guests. “Our parents are very happy.”

“And what does their happiness have to do with us?”

She peered up at him and he could see the wild fluttering of her pulse at her throat. “Will there b

e an us?”

Instead of paying attention to his new bride, his father was busy staring at them and looking worried. His countess frowned and leaned in close to whisper in his ears. That still did not detract the earl’s attention from his son and new daughter.

Callie seemed to notice and flushed in evident discomfort. “Your father…he cannot stop watching us.”

And in that moment Graham knew he could not stay for the rest of the house party. He sketched a deep bow to Callisto. “I suppose we must make the best of the situation. I am leaving Holliwell Manor today.”

Her eyes widened, and she reached out and gripped his gloved hand. “What…why?”

When she realized what she had done, she released him as if seared by fire.