Page 109 of Girl Anonymous

“Perhaps you’re glowing for more than one reason.” Clearly Octavia was in no doubt.

“Maybe,” Maarja said again. She did have to go, and unwillingly she took the bag into the bathroom, opened the box, and read the instructions.

It only took a few moments, and she sighed in relief.

Octavia and Alex were right. She was glad to know the truth. Now to figure out how to tell Dante.

CHAPTER 53

From an everybody’s-looking-at-me standpoint, taking her first steps down the aisle was nerve-wracking.

Taking her first steps down the aisle aware of the virtual target on her chest and her back was worse. Maarja’s bouquet of orange blossoms did not tremble. She kept her chin up, her spine straight, and she smiled. Smiled as if she had not a worry in the world.

Dante used the same posture, but wore a stern expression meant to scare someone.

It was working. Maarja was scared. Just not of him, the most dangerous man in Octavia’s backyard. A backyard that had had its grass mowed, its trees trimmed, and bountiful vases and planters of flowers placed in fragrant abundance. New shrubs, tall and short, had been planted in the wide strip of dirt in front of the newly repaired and surrounding wall. The sun had banished the fog, and light glinted through the willow branches and tickled the climbing roses until they emitted their old-­fashioned fragrance.

As she walked, a suspicious murmur swept over the Arundels. The vast assortment of family members watched with possible amazement. Maybe horror? Definitely disbelief. After all, she was a Daire, and the only other reason they could imaginefor the ceremony was not true; no way she had captured Dante with her beauty.

Dante’s forbidding gaze swept the assemblage, and it was as if he had commanded them aloud. With various poses, sneers, and some clear reluctance, the Arundels rose to their feet.

Her unbeauteous lips twitched in amusement.

For all that they were incredulous, on Dante’s command, they were by God here for the event.

On the bride’s side of the aisle, she saw Mr. Nyugen, the neighbors who weren’t hostile to Octavia and the ones who were (but showed up for the free food), the Saint Rees movers who doubled as security, and friends scattered here and there. Maarja’s friends gaped in disbelief to see her marrying a guy who had a reputation as a crime boss.

Yep. Lots of disbelief going on here. She understood that.

As the groom, Dante should have been watching Maarja, admiring her beauty, but his gaze skipped across the crowd, watching for any hint of an attack.

Saint Rees, who was to give her away, kept them marching steadily forward, but he, too, observed the gathering.

Maarja had to admit, so did she. She should have her gaze fixed to the dais where Octavia stood under the arch, waiting to marry them. There, Connor stood beside Dante and on the other side Alex waited in her amber velvet gown supporting herself with her wizard’s staff.

Owen sat in the front row, next to Nate. Nate’s skin looked like parchment, his head was bandaged, and his face was a mass of cuts and bruises. He shouldn’t have been out of the hospital. Maarja was almost certain he’d walked out to be here. To protect…who? To face…what?

An elderly couple, married by the way they stood shoulder to shoulder, stood against the wall where they could advantageously view the ceremony. The woman leaned on a walker and worean old-fashioned hat with a cheek-sweeping pink veil, and the man wore a fedora low over his face.

Because the last weeks and days and night had taught Maarja to view everything and everybody with suspicion, that couple made Maarja suffer a pang of concern. Why weren’t they sitting with the rest of the families and friends? Were they deliberately hiding their faces? Were they a danger to her, to Dante, to the others? They might be elderly, but she would never make the mistake of confusing age with weakness and she knew not to underestimate the Arundels.

Another glance made her want to stare at them more closely. Something about them seemed familiar…

She saw Tabitha, her petulant mouth drooping as she watched Maarja walk down the aisle. Petty, yes, but Maarja knew she would always recall and enjoy that incredulous disbelief that Maarja rather than Tabitha had won the prize.

Who from the inner cadre of Arundel administration was missing?

Béatrice was on an Alaskan cruise. At least…Maarja believed she was. She certainly wasn’t here.

Maarja didn’t see Fedelma. Three days should have given her time to cease thanking God for Dante’s survival, get up off her knees, and hie her butt down here to witness the wedding.

Both women were tall. If they were here, she’d spot them.

She didn’t see Andere, and he matched Dante in height. He, too, should be clearly visible.

Too many prime suspects were nowhere in sight, and this morning someone had escaped from Octavia’s home and somewhere they were lying in wait for their chance. Had they somehow managed to conceal themselves and a weapon among the decorations? Had they forced their way into a neighbor’s house and even now watched from an upstairs window?

She glanced up and around.

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