A Matter of Duty (12 page)

T
he special license enabled Kit to arrange the wedding ceremony outside canonical hours, and so it was late evening when Louisa dressed in the beautiful gown once intended for despicable Lady Codrington. The August sun had almost set, and the lamplighter and his boy were attending to the work in the square.

The bead decorations on the underskirt of the oyster silk gown glittered like ice in the light of the candlestick on the dressing table as Pattie fixed a little knot of white rosebuds to the twist of dark-red curls at the back of Louisa’s head. A posy of the same rosebuds lay on the dressing table, its white satin ribbons spilling prettily over the edge. There was a drift of perfume in the air from the Yardley’s lavender water dabbed on her wrists and behind her ears. She wore no jewelry because she didn’t possess any, but the gown was rich enough on its own.

Pattie had already dressed for the occasion. Louisa had given her the clothes she’d brought from Lawrence Park, and tonight the maid chose to wear the pink-and-white-checkered dress Louisa had been wearing when Kit saw her for the first time in the library there.

Louisa felt strange. She was a bride, about to give her vows to one of London’s most handsome and eligible men, and yet she didn’t know what her feelings really were toward him. It shouldn’t upset her that he was so in love with his beloved T, but it did. And it shouldn’t matter to her that when he spoke lovingly to her in public, it would be a sham, but it did. She’d known him for such a short time that everything about him was still new to her, but when he smiled at her, she liked it very much. Yes, she liked it very much indeed.

‘It’s time to go down, madam,’ said the maid, glancing out of the window at the sound of a carriage drawing up at the curb. She picked up the gauze veil draped over the back of a chair, arranging it over Louisa’s carefully dressed hair.

Kit was waiting in the library with Reggie Carruthers, whose penchant for blue most definitely extended to wedding attire. He was clad in blue satin from head to toe, and looked very much the dandy. A quizzing glass swung between his elegant fingers, and he raised it immediately as Louisa entered.

‘’Pon me soul,’ he murmured, ‘the lady’s a veritable vision of loveliness. I’ve a mind to take your place, dear boy.’

Kit turned, his glance taking her from head to toe. He looked very distinguished in a high-colored dark-gray coat that fitted very tightly. It boasted gleaming silver buttons and ruffled cuffs, and its cut was quite superb. He wore white silk breeches with silver buckles, white stockings, and black shoes with buckles to match those on the breeches. his lace-filled shirt protruded through his partially buttoned white satin waistcoat, and a particularly fine diamond pin flashed in the intricate folds of his neckcloth. His eyes were very blue as they met hers through the veil. He smiled, taking her hand and drawing it to his lips. ‘You look very beautiful indeed, Louisa.’

‘It would be difficult to be ugly in such a gown,’ she replied, slowly taking her hand away. She was uneasily conscious of how contradictory her feelings were where he was concerned. She wanted to be indifferent, untouched by emotion, so that his love for someone else wouldn’t matter, but she wasn’t indifferent, and her emotions were stirring in a way she’d never experienced before. She couldn’t be falling in love with him, she couldn’t be. She was mistaking her feelings because of Tom’s death. Yes, that must be what was happening. Kit had been kind and gentle, and in her unhappiness she was confusing gratitude for something much more.

Reggie glanced at his fob watch. ‘
Eh bien, mes enfants
, it’s time to toddle along to church.’

Kit offered her his arm and the small wedding party left the library, the bride and groom in front, the bridesmaid and groomsman following. Miller and the rest of the servants were waiting in the entrance hall to wish them well, and the butler spoke for them all.

‘My lord, Miss Cherington, our warmest thoughts go with you.’

Kit smiled at him. ‘Thank you, Miller.’

They emerged into the darkness. The streetlamps cast their light over the waiting carriage, shining on the panels and on the team’s harness. The air felt fresh and cool.

The drive from Grosvenor Square to the chapel in South Audley Street was short, but to Louisa it seemed very long indeed. The chapel was a plain brown brick and stone structure, built less than a hundred years before. It had a classical façade and a spire that looked very elegant when viewed by the approach from Hyde Park, along Aldford Street, but looked less than impressive from South Audley Street.

There were few people about, but those who were, halted with interest on seeing the wedding party alight from Lord Highclare’s carriage. Kit took Louisa’s trembling hand and drew it over his arm. The light breeze lifted her veil, almost revealing her face as they stepped into the chapel.

Inside, it was candlelit, the soft glow falling warmly on austere white walls. The chapel was second only to St George’s as far as high society was concerned, and so the gold plate on the altar was appropriately grand. Above the sanctuary there was a beautiful domed ceiling of brilliant blue and gold. The rows of pews were deserted, as was the fine gallery, and the only person present, apart from the organist who played softly in the background, was the clergyman.

The smell of candles hung in the air as the wedding party moved slowly down the aisle. The ribbons on Louisa’s posy fluttered as she gave it to Pattie. Her heart was beating so loudly that she was sure they’d all hear it above the soft sound of the organ.

Suddenly all was quiet, and the clergyman began to speak. ‘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.…’

The time-honored words echoed over the chapel. As the moments passed, an air of unreality filled Louisa, and it was with a start that she realized Kit had already repeated his words and it was her turn. The clergyman addressed her. ‘Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy state 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.’

Everything was a dream. She was aware of Kit’s hand being placed over hers, and she heard him repeating his vows. Then it was her turn again.

‘I, Louisa Elizabeth Mary, take thee Christopher Matthew Charles, to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part.…’

Then Kit was slipping the ring on her finger. The gold felt so very cold. ‘With this ring I thee wed, he said quietly, ‘with my body I thee worship.…’

His words were somehow changed in her head: With this ring I thee wed, but with my body I someone else worship, someone whose name begins with T … Louisa was forced to remember that all this was a pretense, a matter of duty. His duty to his grandfather and to Tom. Hers to Tom.

The clergyman was speaking. ‘Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.’

And no woman put asunder either … Unbidden, the extra words sounded within her, and with sudden sharp clarity she knew that she wasn’t mistaken about her feelings for Kit; she wasn’t merely grateful to him, she was falling in love with him. The realization was unnerving, making her sway a little, and she barely heard the clergyman’s final words.

‘Forasmuch as Christopher Matthew Charles and Louisa Elizabeth Mary have consented together in holy wedlock … have given and pledged their troth … I pronounce that they be man and wife together.…’

Still shaken by her inner thoughts, Louisa turned hesitantly toward Kit. Would the deception now begin in earnest? Would he kiss her lovingly, to convince those around them that the story of a love match was the truth? She held her breath and there were tears shining in her large gray eyes. Slowly he raised her veil, draping it back over her dark-red hair, then he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her softly on the lips.

Her mouth trembled beneath his, and a weakening fire flamed through her veins. A wanton side of her nature suddenly surged to the surface, a side she’d never dreamed existed, and it prompted her to wish with all her heart that he’d sweep her into his arms with all the passion he felt for his secret love. There was no modesty in such feelings, no modesty at all, and she drew quickly back, flushing. Had he guessed? Had he been able to tell how she felt?

Then Reggie was stepping forward to congratulate them both, and Pattie was shyly offering her felicitations as well. Louisa smiled and tried to appear light and happy, but in reality she was in turmoil.

Kit’s hand rested gently over hers shortly afterward as they walked back toward the door of the chapel, but just as they were about to go out, he suddenly halted, turning to her. He wanted to tell her he felt more for her than he’d revealed hitherto. He hesitated.

Puzzled, she looked up into his eyes. ‘What is it?’ she asked, thinking for a breathless moment that he was about to kiss her again.

Suddenly he couldn’t say it. The time wasn’t right, they should be alone together for such a confession. He’d wait until tonight. Smiling a little, he drew her hand to his lips. ‘It will wait. Come, let’s brave the crowd that has undoubtedly gathered outside. Word travels like wildfire in Mayfair.’

Slowly they walked on. She wondered what he’d been on the point of saying. Whatever it was, it hadn’t been part of the pretense, for Reggie and Pattie had already gone outside, and the clergyman was otherwise engaged.

He was right about the crowd, for South Audley Street seemed to be suddenly filled with fashionable people, all eager to catch a glimpse of the most sensational bride and groom for several seasons. There was a hum of interest as they emerged from the chapel and entered the carriage, which soon pulled away in the direction of Grosvenor Square, where a small wedding breakfast awaited them.

At the house, Miller and the servants were still waiting, giving a cheer as their master and his new bride entered. The butler beamed. ‘Congratulations, my lord. My lady.’

My lady. How strange it sounded. She wasn’t Miss Cherington anymore, she was Lady Highclare. She was suddenly aware of the ring on her finger.

Miller went to the console table and picked up a tray on which lay a small package. ‘This was delivered a short while ago, my lady.’ He held it out to her.

She took the package a little curiously. It was indeed for her, Miss Louisa Cherington, care of this address, but she didn’t know whose hand had penned it. Slowly she undid it, finding inside a slender leather box of the sort used by the more exclusive jewelers. She opened it and her breath caught, for there, nestling on a lining of pure white silk, was a beautiful golden locket on a chain. Surely it was from Kit. Was this what he’d been about to say in the chapel? She turned inquiringly to him.

He shook his head. ‘I have to confess I know nothing about it, Louisa. I only wish I did.’

His reply took her a little aback, for who else would send her such a thing? She took the locket from its bed of silk, and as the light caught it, she suddenly saw it bore an inscription. She read it, stiffening with angry amazement. ‘To my beloved Louisa, Geoffrey.’ How dared he do such a thing!

Kit realized something was wrong, and he took the locket from her, seeing the inscription for himself. His face became very still and his glance suddenly cool. So he’d been mistaken about her, after all; behind her outer innocence lay a creature of deceit who’d managed to hoodwink him with her clever demureness. Just as he’d begun to feel so much for her, he was forced to see that she’d lied to him about her relationship with her former employer’s handsome son. When he spoke, his voice was measured and clipped. ‘Shall we proceed to our wedding
repas
, madam?’

She stared at him. Madam? He believed the inscription to signify her guilt! He believed there to be something between her and Geoffrey Lawrence! ‘Kit …’ she began hesitantly.

‘Shall we proceed, madam,’ he interrupted, ‘or would you prefer to linger here?’

A dull flush entered her cheeks and she was only too conscious of all eyes being upon them. Slowly she accepted the arm and they proceeded toward the dining room. As they passed the console table, Kit tossed the locket down.

Behind them the servants began to whisper together, and Pattie looked on in dismay. Reggie hesitated a moment, clearing his throat awkwardly, then he followed the bride and groom. The wedding meal suddenly promised to be a rather strained affair.

The moon had risen and the house was quiet. Louisa sat in the window of her darkened room. She’d extinguished the candles, preferring the shadows. Her hair was brushed loose, and she wore a flounced white nightgown tied at the throat with pink ribbons. The square was bathed with silver light. Reggie had long since departed, and the servants were in the kitchens enjoying their own wedding feast.

Kit hadn’t said very much to her, and when she’d come up to her room, he hadn’t indicated when he would join her, or even if he would at all. His whole manner toward her had changed. She’d told him the locket was simply spite on Geoffrey’s part, but he’d remained cool.

Her hands twisted nervously in her lap, and her wedding ring caught the moonlight. She heard his steps approaching at last. Her heartbeats quickened and she rose expectantly to her feet.

He knocked. ‘Louisa?’

‘Yes?’

He came in, his tall figure silhouetted from behind by the light in the passage. He still wore the clothes he’d had on for the wedding. For a moment he couldn’t say anything; he just looked at her, thinking that in spite of her deceit she was still very lovely indeed, still so very attractive to him. He wanted to spend the night with her, but pride wouldn’t permit him. He was glad now that he hadn’t confessed the truth to her in the chapel, for at least she’d never know how close he’d come to making a fool of himself. At last he spoke. ‘I came to wish you good night,’ he said quietly.