The Historical Collection. Stephanie Laurens
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She turned and walked in the other direction, not wanting to watch them leave. Gabriel walked alongside her.
“Are they gone?” she asked, a few minutes later.
He looked over his shoulder. “Yes.”
“Good.”
She promptly crumpled to the ground. Her knees buckled beneath her and she leaned forward, bracing her palms on the turf for strength. She watched the damp earth seep under her fingernails. She felt cold droplets of dew wetting her stockings. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears. But none of it felt real. She floated above herself, an observer.
Then Gabriel’s arms went around her, tethering her to the earth. Air flooded her lungs, then rushed out as a tearless sob. She turned and buried her face in his chest, clinging to his coat.
He rocked her gently, murmuring words of love in her ear and stroking her hair. “That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I want to go home,” she whispered. “I want to cry, and sleep for days, and possibly break things.”
“That can be arranged. Mrs. Burns has Bathsheba Wendleby’s old china stashed in the cellar. Service for eighteen.”
“Perfect.” She closed her eyes. “I’m also going to find a new litter of kittens, and I don’t want to hear anything about it.”
“You won’t hear a word from me. Even if you have a hundred kittens.” His hand stilled on her back, and he added, “That was hyperbole, you understand.”
She lifted her head. “And in a few weeks, or maybe months, I want to start planning a wedding. The biggest, grandest wedding Mayfair has ever seen. The guest list will fill the society column for weeks.”
“I hope I’m invited.”
She gave him a teasing pinch. “You will not be invited. You’ll be the groom. And it’s going to be the best wedding in the world.”
On the morning of the wedding, a dozen things went wrong.
Bixby snagged and ripped her veil.
George ate her flowers.
Chase and Ash wouldn’t cease arguing over which of them was the “real” best man.
And now Aunt Caroline was nowhere to be found. They couldn’t begin the ceremony without her. She’d agreed to walk Penny down the aisle.
Penny tapped her toes beneath the hem of her gown, trying not to betray her growing concern.
“There, I’ve done my best.” Emma held up the hastily mended veil. “The damage shouldn’t show too terribly.”
“You’re a miracle worker. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Emma.” Penny hugged her friend. For good measure, she hugged Alexandra and Nicola, too. “I don’t know what I’d do without any of you. My three graces.”
“Only two graces,” Alex countered. “You know I’m not a duchess. Yet.”
“Only one grace,” Nicola said, subtracting herself from the total. “No matter what title I carry, I could never lay any claim to grace.”
“I daresay you are the most gracious among us, Penny.” Emma packed away her needle and thread. “Who could have guessed you’d be the last of us to make it to the altar?”
“However, if my aunt doesn’t appear soon, I may never make it to the altar.”
“She’s still not here?” Gabriel stood at the vestry entrance, looking as impatient as he did handsome.
Penny took a moment to simply admire him. He cut a splendid figure in his morning suit, his broad shoulders stretching the slate-gray wool of his coat. His freshly clipped hair was a swoop of tamed black, and his clean-shaven face looked smooth as a baby’s. Despite his civilized appearance this morning, however, she knew that come evening his jaw would be scratchy with dark whiskers, his hair would be thick, untamed waves—and that elegant morning coat? By then, she would have stripped it from those broad shoulders, revealing the beast beneath.
Everything about their wedding could go wrong, as long as this one thing went right. When they left this church, this magnificent man would be hers. All hers. That was all that mattered, really.
“I hate to interrupt,” he said, “but there are flower girls and a ring bearer currently running footraces between the nave and back of the church.”
“Oh, dear.” Alexandra leaped into action. “Most of those are mine.”
Emma followed. “Not all of them, unfortunately.”
“None are my responsibility yet,” Nicola said. “But I suppose I might need practice.”
Once they were alone, Penny turned to Gabriel. “I can’t imagine what’s delaying Aunt Caroline. I’m worried about her.”
“Whoever or whatever is delaying her, I’m worried for it.”
Uneasiness knotted in her belly. “Do you think she’s changed her mind?”
With her parents and Timothy overseas, and Bradford at a great distance in more ways than one, Aunt Caroline was her only close relation in Town. If even she didn’t appear, Penny would feel rather abandoned.
“Your aunt has not changed her mind,” Gabriel said stoutly. “Why would she? The woman adores me.”
Penny arched an eyebrow in doubt.
“Very well. She doesn’t adore me, but that’s only because she isn’t the adoring sort. Don’t worry. She’ll be here.”
“Penny?”
She wheeled toward the familiar voice. “Bradford?”
Penny hadn’t seen her eldest brother in a year. Not since that misty morning in St. James Park when she’d put the choice to him. He was her brother, and she loved him dearly—but as long as he maintained a relationship with his father-in-law, they couldn’t be a part of each other’s lives.
In the months since, they’d corresponded in stilted, impersonal fashion when necessary, and naturally she’d sent him notice of the wedding. When friends asked, it wasn’t difficult to explain his absence. The excuses wrote themselves: too long a journey from Cumberland, another child on the way, and so forth.
And now … here he was, without warning.
She swallowed a lump in her throat. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“To be fair, I wasn’t certain, either. In the end, Aunt Caroline gave me a kick in the arse.”
Gabriel