“I’m almost ready,” Alyssa told her.
“Griffin asked me to give you these.” Lady Miranda set her bouquet aside before untying a soft white leather pouch from around Alyssa’s bouquet. Smiling, she handed the pouch to Alyssa. “A present from the groom. Could it be the famous Abernathy family jewels?”
Alyssa frowned. “I hope not,” she admitted, “because everyone will expect me to wear them, and Lady Weymouth says they are hideously large and gaudy.”
“Then, don’t keep us in suspense,” Miranda urged. “Open it.”
Alyssa untied the strings and opened the pouch. “Oh! Miranda, look!” She pulled out a strand of perfectly matched pearls crowned with a brilliant pendant of amethysts and peridots. Along with the necklace was a matching bracelet and a matching pair of earrings.
Alyssa held the jewelry so Miranda could see it.
“They’re beautiful,” Miranda breathed.
“The gems match the stones in my betrothal ring.” She smiled. “And the pearls match those sewn onto my wedding dress.”
“Then you’ll want to wear these.”
“Of course.” Reaching up, Alyssa began fumbling with the clasp of the cameo locket she’d worn to complement her dress.
“Let me help you,” Miranda said. “Turn around.”
Alyssa did as she asked, and Miranda quickly unhooked the cameo locket and replaced it with the strand of pearls.
When she finished fastening the pearl necklace around Alyssa’s neck, Miranda clasped the bracelet over Alyssa’s gloved right wrist and replaced Alyssa’s tiny cameo earrings with Griffin’s gift.
“You look beautiful,” Miranda murmured, handing Alyssa her bouquet of flowers. “Just the way a bride should look.”
“Thank you,” Alyssa replied. “So do you.”
Lady Miranda glanced at her reflection in the mirror. The mint green color of her dress was most becoming. It complemented her light auburn hair, the green of her eyes, and her flawless ivory complexion. In it, Miranda felt almost beautiful. Or as close to beautiful as one could feel when one stood a hair under six feet tall in one’s stocking feet and would never possess the small rounded bosom, the slim hips, or twenty-inch waist currently in vogue.
Miranda shook her head. “I’ll never be anyone’s idea of the beautiful bride. I’m too big and tomboyish for that.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m destined to be everyone’s favorite bridesmaid and nobody’s chosen bride.”
Alyssa’s mouth dropped open. Was it possible that Miranda didn’t know how truly lovely she was? “I think that one day soon, you’ll make someone a beautiful bride.”
Miranda gave Alyssa an affectionate hug. “Let’s make you a beautiful bride first,” she teased. “We’ll work on making me one after you’re married.”
“Agreed,” Alyssa said.
“Good,” Miranda answered, reaching for her own bouquet. “Now, let’s go. Your groom is waiting.”
Miranda led the way out of the antechamber and into the church sanctuary.
Alyssa followed, grasping her father’s elbow and taking her place at the back of the line as the choir began to sing Alyssa’s favorite wedding chorale by Handel.
Griffin turned and looked down the aisle as the final note of the chorus faded away. His first glimpse of Alyssa took his breath away. She radiated beauty and serenity. Griffin waited until her father stepped aside, then moved into place at Alyssa’s side and took her hand in his. Smiling down at Alyssa, unable to take his gaze away from her face, Griff nodded to the bishop.
The bishop cleared his throat and began the service. As he listened to the bishop, Griff’s thoughts turned to his bride. Although he’d despaired at relinquishing his Free Fellows status and being forced to marry when his father forced the issue, Griff decided that he had chosen well. In addition to being lovely, Alyssa had proven herself to be an extraordinary woman. She’d managed to create a miracle wedding, and he had yet to hear her utter a single word of complaint. Griff glanced heavenward and said a silent prayer of thanks for the spark of attraction that had flared the first time he’d seen her and for his good judgment in recognizing it.
“Griffin Abernathy, seventeenth Viscount Abernathy and twenty-second Baron Maitland, 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.” Griff’s answer was strong and firm.
He smiled at her, and Alyssa recognized the steady
light of confidence that seemed to glow in the depths of his blue eyes. Griffin had just promised to love her. The fact that he did so in such a strong and firm tone of voice took her by surprise. She knew he didn’t love her. She knew he didn’t want to marry her or anyone else. She had heard him say so. She had heard him affirm his loyalty to the Free Fellows League. Whatever that was. But his manner and his certain answer said something else entirely.
He had been the perfect companion for the past few days, escorting her to myriad parties and socials and enduring the company of countless grand dames of the ton. He had listened to hours of endless conversation about the wedding and had tolerated a thousand interruptions to his daily routine in order to accommodate her requests and offer assistance. He had trusted her judgment and allowed her to make the decisions, patiently staying out of the way until he was called upon to help smooth the way with his name and his reputation, enlisting his staff and his friend’s staff to help without uttering a single word of complaint in her hearing.