It's Beginning to Look a lot Like Scandal

“We won’t, but nothing will ever force me away from you. No scandal and certainly not my father’s disapproval. He grew me to know my own mind and heart and I will most certainly remind him of that.”

“Be certain, for I shall not allow you to break your promises!”

He touched the corner of her mouth tenderly. “I’ll not break them. Trust me with your heart, your friendship, and your love, please.”

“Yes!” Callie cried. “I’ll allow you to woo me, Graham.”

“And marry you?”

“Maybe,” she said in a low, sensual voice. “Who knows if I’ll like your courtship?”

With a soft chuckle, he said, “Challenge accepted.”

Then he held out his arms, and they strolled together toward the main house.

Epilogue

London St James’s Church, Hanover Square

It was to be the wedding of the Season, and everyone who was anyone in the ton had been invited. The church was packed to the rafters, and everyone was agog to see what the bride would wear. Miss Callisto Middleton had been the acknowledged diamond of the Season, despite being older than the debutantes who had expected that plaudit to have been awarded them.

Callie had found the experience very strange. Since her mother, the Countess of Deerwood, had launched her anew into Society, and despite the obvious way Viscount Sherbrooke courted her in earnest, she had many suitors who were apparently enamored of her delicate charms. However, Callie suspected few would have shown so much determination to woo her without the dowry of ten thousand pounds her step-father had settled on her.

Callie and Letty had lapped up the attention, the flowers, the balls where neither of them had the chance to sit out a single dance and all the other excitement from their stay in Town at the earl’s magnificent townhouse.

But in her heart, there had only been Graham. Since that one time they had made love in the cottage, he hadn’t attempted to seduce her again. It had been a lesson in restraint. One night as they had scandalously danced every dance together at a midnight ball he had whispered, “I am dying to taste you and love you again…but upon my honor I will wait until our wedding night.”

That had been over four months ago.

The gossips of the ton took pleasure in discussing the courtship of Miss Middleton and Viscount Sherbrooke. Some commented with shock and distaste, while others did so with open admiration and gentle encouragement of their union. Each day she had fallen in love with him on a deeper level, and Callie felt such happiness that today she would finally be his wife. Earlier the townhouse had been pandemonium as servants rushed to make sure everything was perfect for the wedding breakfast of Lady Callisto Sherbrooke and her beloved Graham, Viscount Sherbrooke.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she entered the church. All the whispers died down, and an air of anticipation throbbed through all the family and guests. Graham waited for her, resplendent in navy-blue trousers and matching jacket, an expertly tied cravat, and a green silken waistcoat. The look of awe and love on his face pierced Callie with the sweetest feelings. They had caught her hair in the most elegant of chignons with becoming wisps framing her face, and a coronet of flowers woven between the strands. She wore the most beautiful high-waisted ivory silk gown seeded with pearls.

You are beautiful, he mouthed, the love in his eyes on display for the world to see. I love you.

With a trembling laugh, she walked towards him, never taking her eyes from his. I love you so, she mouthed. She reached his side, and he reached out and took her gloved hand between his. Her whole being filled with wonder and reflected in his eyes she saw the same emotions whispering through his heart.

The earl grunted that he was giving her away before taking his seat.

The bishop began the ceremony. “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 honorable estate…”

Callie could not prevent the wide smile that curved her lips when Graham winked. She had to restrain the urge to fling herself in his arms and hug him.

The bishop turned to him, “Graham George Winter, Viscount Sherbrooke, 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, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

“I will,” he vowed, the curve of a smile tipping his mouth.

The bishop shifted to Callie.

“Miss Callisto Georgiana Middleton, 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, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

“I will,” she said with a voice that trembled, then she smiled.

A few seconds later, they were declared man and wife. Callie laughed, the sound light and joyous. And as if he could not help himself, Graham drew her to him and pressed a kiss to her forehead, then over her nose, and then softly on her lips, ignoring the tittering of the guests in the pews. Powerful emotions darkened his eyes. “I love you, Callisto, most ardently.”

“And I love you,” she uttered her voice fragile and shaky.

“Now, let’s go home,” he murmured. “Then we’ll honeymoon in Italy and Paris.”