Page 94 of One Wicked Secret
His eyes locked with hers as his fingers curled around the coins. “I shall cherish them always. I would die to protect you. Never forget that.”
She wanted to kiss him, to pour every ounce of love she felt for him into one intimate moment. Although they sat apart, her heart leaned into him, her eyes caressing his lips in a kiss they could not share in church.
The shuffle of footsteps and a man’s mumble saw the vicar return. Daniel rushed to help him carry a heavy tome.
“As luck would have it, I found an entry in the marriage register on the date mentioned. This is the ledger pertaining to that union, which includes names of those who married and any witnesses.”
Although too excited to sit still, Elsa gave the vicar her full attention. “Which of the two dates relates to a marriage?”
“The day in February.”
Daniel laid the tome on the pew and opened the book. It took the minister some time to find the relevant page.
“Ah, here it is. Miss Cynthia Jane Wright married Clarence Alaric Montague Denby on 9th February 1778.”
“Denby?” Elsa clasped her chest as her heart galloped. “Any relation to the current Lord Denby? Is there mention of an address in Mayfair?” This was more than she had hoped to discover.
The vicar peered at the elegant script. “They were married by special licence, though the groom was from the Parish of St George, Hanover Square. So, yes. He must have lived in Mayfair.”
She contemplated the information. While she had met with Lady Denby and her son at Edenberry on many occasions, she knew very little about their family history. In her heart, she wanted to marry Daniel. What did Lord Denby’s background matter?
“I’m afraid the names of the witnesses shed little light on the groom’s relationship to a member of the aristocracy. Present at the ceremony were Miss Josephine Stenson and Mr Terence Parkes.”
Elsa shivered like ghostly fingers had traced her spine. “I beg your pardon? Are you certain? May I see the entry?”
The vicar gestured for her to come closer. “Of course.”
Feeling somewhat apprehensive, she examined the entries in the register. The names of her grandparents were unmistakable, forever marked in ink. “Josephine married Terence months later. Though she was already with child when they made their vows.”
Daniel turned to her. “You know those people.”
She smiled. “Yes, they’re my maternal grandparents.”
While Daniel’s brow furrowed, the vicar asked, “Was your mother baptised here in St Mary’s?”
“I’m not quite sure. She was raised in Oxford, so it’s unlikely.”
“There is no record of any ceremony occurring here on the day your mother was born. I can search for her baptism record, though it would take half an hour to scan the ledgers.”
“There’s no need. We’ve troubled you enough.”
“Nonsense. Come back in half an hour. I’ll see what I can find. Most babes are baptised within the first week of birth.”
They left the vicar to his work and returned to the carriage.
“I’m not sure what to make of the information,” she said,settling into the coach seat. “We’re still no closer to understanding what my mother was trying to tell me.”
Daniel stroked his jaw while in thought. “Your grandparents must have known something about the Denby family. A secret Clarence mentioned. The couples must have been close friends.”
“My mother never mentioned them. Not once.” She had painted an idyllic picture of her life in Oxford. Sadly, Elsa’s grandparents were blessed with only one child. There was no other family to ask.
“Rothley is a walking edition of Debrett’s. He will know who Clarence Denby is. We’ll invite him to dine with us tomorrow. We should have received news about Charmers’ confession by then.”
“What shall we do while we wait for the vicar?” She let her gaze wander over her husband’s physique. He sat with his legs spread wide, the fabric of his trousers clinging to his strong thighs.
A twinkle of mischief lit his eyes. “I know what you’re thinking, but we have an hour’s ride to Harrow. Let’s save our energy for a more thorough exploration of what it means to be married.”
“What a shame we’re not travelling to Geneva.”
