The Daring Miss Darcy (Lost Ladies of London 4) - Page 98

While Ross had done everything to eradicate the past, she was as much a product of her mistakes as her successes. Being true to herself was what mattered now. “Fabian suggested we might marry here. It’s a small church but rather quaint. Would you be terribly disappointed?”

Ross grinned. “I’d marry you on the beach if it were possible, and so Raven Island it is. Though I wonder if you know the full extent of what you’re committing to.”

She was to marry a man who made her heart soar, her pulse race. “Oh, I’m committing to a man who is the epitome of sexual prowess.” Not that she had any complaint.

Ross raised a brow. “I wasn’t speaking about me. Mackenzie will want to host the wedding breakfast, and I hear he excels when it comes to picking the entertainment.”

“It is not the entertainment of the day that I shall concern myself with,” she said, returning to straddle his lap once again, “but more how you plan to please me on our wedding night.”

“You want your pleasure to come in slow, rippling waves, I seem to recall.”

Estelle fought to suppress a grin. “Do I? How strange that my memory seems to have failed me.”

Ross’ hands settled on her hips. “Then perhaps another demonstration is in order.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Three weeks later

“Come,” Lillian said, grabbing Estelle’s hand and pulling her towards the bailey. “Mrs Brown spent the whole day yesterday preparing the cart.”

Estelle needed a distraction to calm her nerves. In an hour, she would be the Marchioness of Trevane. More importantly, she would be married to the man she loved for the rest of her days. “I’m sure I shall love it no matter what she has done.”

When Estelle entered the bailey, it wasn’t the sight of the pretty rose garlands or the reams of pink ribbons that stole her breath. It was the sight of Mr Erstwhile sitting on the seat gripping the reins in his hand, a beaming smile illuminating his face.

“Are you ready, my dear? We do not want to keep his lordship waiting.”

She had Ross to thank for making the day special before it had even begun. He had arranged for someone to tend the Erstwhiles’ apothecary shop in their absence. He’d arranged their transport to Branscombe, and Fabian had found them a room in the castle.

“I wouldn’t want to be late,” she said. Mackenzie appeared and offered his hand so she could climb up onto the seat. “His lordship might think I’ve left on the mail coach.”

Mr Erstwhile smiled. “I believe his lordship would chase you to the ends of the earth.”

“Aye,” Mackenzie said, helping Lillian up to the seat, too. “And he’d swim there in just his breeches if he had to. Now give me a moment to scoot into the back, and we can be on our way.”

Mr Erstwhile looked proud seated at the helm. Mrs Erstwhile had gone ahead to the church, the maid in her needing to make certain everything was clean and in order.

“I cannot tell you what it means to be here,” Mr Erstwhile said, “to see you so happy and about to wed the one you love.”

Estelle touched him lightly on the arm. “It would not have been the same without you here.”

“And I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

The wedding party consisted of a small gathering of close friends. Ross invited Lord Farleigh, Rose and the children. He’d also extended an invitation to the Earl of Stanton, Lord Farleigh’s brother-in-law, and his wife, Nicole. When one made a stand against the sticklers in society, it was best to do so with an army of peers guarding your back.

They rattled along the narrow road towards the church on the hill. Estelle’s stomach flipped. She couldn’t wait to see Ross. But another surprise had her buzzing with excitement, too.

Fabian was waiting for them outside the church. He strode towards them looking so smart in his cravat and waistcoat, though she preferred seeing him in the more relaxed garb of a would-be pi

rate.

Mackenzie came to help them down from the cart. Fabian kissed Lillian on the cheek and whispered something in her ear that brought a blush to her cheeks.

“You look beautiful,” Fabian said, taking Estelle’s hand and bringing it to his lips. “Trevane arrived an hour early. The man is eager to claim you as his wife. Indeed, I feared he might sleep in a pew last night.”

In that moment, Estelle did not know if it was possible to be any happier.

“Well,” Mr Erstwhile began. “I had best go inside and find a seat.”

Tags: Adele Clee Lost Ladies of London Romance
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