Page 77 of The Dangerous Love of a Rogue
‘Have you a ring, Lord Framlington?’ the reverend asked.
Lifting his right hand to his mouth, Drew gripped the signet ring on his smallest finger between his teeth, pulled it off, then he took it from his mouth and polished it on his coat.
His mother had given him the ring. His father, whoever he was, left it on her bedside as a thank-you gift for a night’s entertainment, and later, an unwanted son. The gift had become his compensation for his undesired life.Fitting, he thought as he slid it on Mary’s finger.
She did not even lift her gaze then.
Yesterday, this was not how he had pictured their wedding. He’d thought her feelings for him would hold. He’d thought she would be glad. Happy, despite her parents’ fury.
He sighed as her hand trembled in his, love lodging like a spear, not an arrow, through his heart.
Then, finally, she looked up.
He smiled, emotion rising from his heart, offering reassurance.
The vicar said words for Drew to repeat. She held his gaze as he spoke, her pale eyes shining with intensity. The hours which had passed since her father had entered the room at the inn slipped away. It was just the two of them again.
She repeated words too, her fingers holding his hand firmly, as she spoke with clear, true emotion.
Then the vicar said, ‘I now pronounce you man and wife. What God has united, let no man set asunder.’ His book snapped shut.
Drew leaned to kiss Mary. She turned and the kiss fell on her cheek as her fingers slid from his.
He turned and faced her family. He could have heard a bloody pin drop in the silence of their acclamations. ‘Is no one going to wish us happy?’ he asked.
Her father grunted, Pembroke jeered and her mother bit her lip.
Lifting his fingers to his forelock, Drew tugged it and briefly bowed his head at her mother. ‘Ma’am.’
‘You are not amusing, Lord Framlington,’ she said, her eyes flashing.
It was a look he had seen in Mary’s eyes.
‘You need to sign the register.’ The vicar’s voice cut the hostile air. ‘Come this way.’
Marlow offered his arm to Mary before Drew could. Drew reached out and held her elbow, making her the rope in their tug of war again.
He followed the vicar with his hat and gloves in one hand and Mary in the other.
‘Why are you deliberately upsetting them?’ she whispered.
He leaned to her ear. ‘They are insulting me.’Stop siding with them.No one ever cared abouthisfeelings.
She did not speak again, and her arm was taut.
They watched the vicar enter their names in the large record book on an old chest in the vestry. When he asked for Drew’s father’s details, Drew looked to the ceiling and mumbled the Marquis’s name, the man who’d been forced to claim him but had never been a father to him. Then they signed their names.
Her name was now Lady Andrew Framlington. Mary Rose Framlington – that sounded good.
Pembroke signed as a witness, along with Mary’s father, then the deed was done.
They donned hats and gloves, and a few moments later climbed back into the carriage.
The next stop was Pembroke’s offices, where Drew was surprised to discover Pembroke’s businessman, Mister Philip Spencer, was also his brother-in-law. Drew’s eyebrows lifted; he’d not realised Pembroke had married a commoner.
Within a quarter hour the cheques from her father and brother were signed and in Drew’s pocket. Cheques that meant safety, happiness and hope. No more hardship, no more threats of debtors’ jail, and he could help Caro now.
A smile held Drew’s lips as he walked back to the carriage. But then he saw her face. It was her money. He did not care what her father thought. But…Devil take it. He must remember it was hers. No matter how much he hated the men in her family, he loved her. He needed her money, and he needed her. Love, it turned out, could be a warm emotion, but also a solid, cold lump of heavy stone in his chest.
