Page 48 of Weave me a Rope
He didn’t wait for an answer, but opened the door and asked a footman to fetch Mr. Morris.
Mr. Morris, when he was told of the change, agreed it was fair, but pointed out Lord Spenhurst might, at some point in the future, wish to live apart from Lady Daphne. “I suggest, my lord, that Lady Daphne should be permitted, in that eventuality, to occupy the estate you settle on her, or another estate approved by her trustees, with suitable attendants and servants, also approved by the trustees.”
Yarverton insisted that Spen agree not to live apart from Lady Daphne until after their first son was born. Mr. Morris wrote that into the agreement with Spen’s goodwill, phrasing it that Lord Spenhurst agreed not to live apart from his wife. Spen,who had no intention of ever parting from Cordelia, was happy to agree.
The agreements had been the second hazard. A little more difficult, Spen reflected as each peer signed where indicated. There was food for thought in the unexpected challenges, but thinking was for later.
When they had signed the two agreements, Mr. Morris gave them the marriage agreement, saying he produced a new cover and signature page, as Spen had turned twenty-one since the two lords had attached their signatures.
“It will need Lord Spenhurst’s signature, too, my lords, and it will look better—if the agreement is ever challenged—for the signatures to all have the same dates.”
When it was Spen’s turn, he signed the agreement with each of the fathers and initialed Lord Yarverton’s proposed extra clause. He hesitated when Mr. Morris put the marriage agreement in front of him, with only the space for the three signatures showing. Mr. Morris gave him an encouraging nod. Did he trust the man, or did he open the document and check nothing had been added?
Did it matter? He had no intention of allowing the marriage to stand. He signed.
Now for the greatest hazard of all. Mr. Morris went to fetch the bride and the minister. Spen had no idea whether Cordelia and Miss Faversham had managed to bribe the minister—or, he supposed, to outdo whatever bribe the marquess had already offered.
In the next few minutes, he would be wed to either Cordelia or—at least by proxy and temporarily—to Lady Daphne. All he could do was his best.
Chapter Twenty
If Lord Yarvertonwas going to take a close look at her, Cordelia thought, it would be now. Surely any father would watch his daughter as she took her marriage vows? But Lord Yarverton did not even turn his head her way as she came into the room. It remained for Spen to cross from where he stood by the fireplace, offer her an arm, and conduct her back towards the hearth.
A table had been set there with a book on it. The marriage register, she assumed. Now, as everything she had hoped for was within her reach, it was hard to maintain the facade of Lady Daphne. She looked up into Spen’s eyes, and he gazed warmly down into hers.
“Well, man?” barked the marquess, “Make a start.”
The marquess and the earl were looking their way. That would never do. Cordelia giggled and was delighted when the two peers turned away.
“Witnesses, please,” the minister said. Miss Faversham moved up beside Cordelia and Marsh beside Spen. The other three guards also moved forward, partially blocking the view of the marquess and the earl, who thankfully didn’t comment.
The minister began the words of the marriage service. In the other parlor, he had stumbled over words and lost track of his thoughts as they presented their case for his support and tried to persuade him to their side. With a familiar script to deliver, he spoke smoothly and with feeling.
Cordelia could not help but be moved by the language, while part of her was alert to the actions of the two fathers. They had moved to the window and were holding a low-voiced discussion. Her heart lifted. The conspirators just might get away with this.
Then came the most crucial moment. The minister reached the question on which the whole masquerade depended, speaking their names—their true names—in a low voice.
Spen’s whole face lit with joy when the man said “…take Cordelia Elizabeth Milton to be your lawful…” His ‘I do’ was so fervent Cordelia was afraid their adversaries would call a halt to the proceedings to find out why he was so happy about the wedding he had fought for months.
But they were still absorbed in their own conversation, and it was time for the minister to say her name again, “Do you, Cordelia Elizabeth Milton, take Paul James…” Like Spen, she could barely wait for him to finish the sentence. They had done it!
Well. Not quite.A few more exchanges. And now the two men left the window to watch, beaming with satisfaction, as Spen placed his ring on her finger. No names now. They were wed, with witnesses, and just had to keep her identity secret for a short time more. Just until they were out of reach. Marsh had pointed out that the best way for two such arrogant puppet masters to remove an inconvenient bride was to kill her. Cordelia would not put it past them.
“My lords, Miss Faversham, gentlemen, I present to you Lord and Lady Spenhurst,” said the minister.
They turned to face the room. Miss Faversham embraced Cordelia, which was as well, for she was in danger of forgetting her part. She and Spen were married! But they were not yet through the woods.
“Who is Lady Spenhurst?” she asked, in Lady Daphne’s child-like trill.
“You are Lady Spenhurst, sweet child,” Miss Faversham assured her, and though it was part of the drama they were playing for the two peers, it was also the truth, and she could feel the thrill of it filling up her chest and shortening her breath.
To hide the emotion, she giggled, casting down her eyes, which would surely betray her, for they were glowing.
But perhaps she needn’t have bothered. Lord Deerhaven and Lord Yarverton had barely looked at her. “The chit needs to make her mark in the book,” Lord Deerhaven was reminding the minister.
Spen had been accepting the congratulations of his guard, but now returned to her side. “Come, Lady Spenhurst,” he said. “We need to sign the register.”
He escorted her to the table. Whoever had prepared the papers for Uncle Joshua had done a good job. If she hadn’t known the page she was signing as Lady Daphne was a fake, inserted in the register so it could be removed and burnt without leaving any evidence, she would not have realized. There were even several records higher up the page for verisimilitude. She, Spen, and the witnesses would sign the true page as soon as they could do so without the peers watching.
