Bronwyn Scott's Sexy Regency Bundle (212 page)

Scott

Sophie slipped the gun inside. "Are we expecting trouble?" She took St. Just's

"One can never tell with Julian. I've found it best to always be prepared," the handsome viscount counseled.

Outside, a white, open carriage-a

with four matched grays. The

viscount handed her up and followed her into the seat. He gave a shout to the driver and they were off.

Emma didn't have a white gown

for you. I know it's all the rage these days. But you look lovely," he offered in the way of small talk.

"I hardly set store by such things." Sophie Everything felt

She was on her

way to her wedding, sitting beside a viscount in a white carriage, dressed in a

but

borrowed gown, her gauzy veil fluttering in the light breeze. It would have been ideal weather for a real wedding.

Julian hadn't been joking when he'd said the church was right around the corner. Karlskirche was a handsome Baroque building, its dome dominating the neighborhood. St. Just handed her out and then reached under the seat. "I did manage these for you." He passed her a bouquet of white

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Libertine Lord, Pickpocket Miss

roses. "I grow them myself when I'm here in town."

"Thank you," Sophie offered humbly. The touched her and it spoke volumes about this young man's

friendship with Julian.

Relationships of such quality were rare.

Sophie stepped inside the church, giving her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim interior and her nerves a moment to steady themselves. St. Just was beside her. "Julian is waiting at the high altar.

Shall we?"

Sophie began the long walk to the high altar and its trappings. Vaguely, she was aware of walking in Baroque splendor; columns and gold gilt surrounded her. But she was only intent on the of Julian Burke, his dark hair smooth and combed, patiently, calmly waiting for her. He must have raided St. Just's wardrobe for the occasion. He was turned out in a dark blue morning coat and gray trousers, a cravat neatly tied at his throat, an emerald stickpin twinkling in its folds. He'd gone to great efforts to provide the trappings of a proper ceremony.

Two other men stood with Julian. St. Just nodded in their direction, familiar with them.

Then the priest began the rituals that would make

Scott

Sophie and Julian man and wife. Julian kissed her soundly at the end. The two men came

to

congratulate them and introduce themselves; and

Mathison. There

were papers to sign. Sophie signed her name in tight, neat letters. Julian's signature was done in a great flourish. Lord Julian Burke. An official seal was put on the document and it was done. They were bound together in the eyes of the law. In the eyes of the law, Sophie

was no more.

Sophie caught Julian's gaze across the parchment.

He gave her a reassuring smile. "Everything will be all right, Lady Burke."

The door to the church opened. Sophie realized she hadn't noticed St. Just had until

he reentered the building.

He strode up the aisle, reaching their side.

"It's done, then?" He glanced at Julian. "Then congratulations are in order, Julian." He shook Julian's hand.

"Thank you, Val, for all

efforts. Perhaps

someday I can

the favor."

For a moment Sophie thought she saw a look of longing deep in St. Just's eyes. Intuitively she understood the bouquet of roses better. The viscount was a romantic for all that his dashing

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Libertine Lord, Pickpocket Miss

ways proclaimed

and unless she missed

her guess, he was a romantic with a broken heart.

However he was so terse when he spoke, Sophie thought she might have imagined the look all.

"We need to go, Julian. The police are stopping everyone at the city exits."

Sophie looked nervously at Julian. "Perhaps a hat to hide my hair?

Brazzo's men will

recognize me."

Julian shook his head. "No. We have nothing to be guilty of. If we act guilty, we give them reason to be suspicious. We've made it so far."

Sophie took up her seat in the carriage, now miraculously decorated with white satin ribbon and posies of white flowers. She saw St. Just pass Julian a packet of papers and murmur the words, don't smear the ink. I sanded them heavily but the ink's still

Julian gave a curt nod. "Pistols at the ready, St. Just. Tell the others."

Only then did Sophie note that

and

had mounted horses next to the carriage.

They were joined by

other men wearing the

uniform of the British cavalry. "A mounted escort, Julian?" she asked skeptically. This boded ill.