Page 96 of Marry in Scarlet
“He tried,” Cal agreed. “But you weren’t forced. You agreed of your own free will.”
She had. And truth to tell she was ridiculously nervous. The closer to the church they got, the more her courage seemed likely to drain away. But she was determined to start as she meant to go on.
The carriage pulled up in Hanover Square at the foot of the steps leading up to St. George’s church. George took a deep breath and shrugged the domino off. With a whisper of silk, it pooled softly around her.
Cal, who had exited first to help her down, turned to assist her and froze. “Good God, George, what the hell do you think you’re wearing?”
She tossed her head. “It’s a new fashion.”
He snorted in patent disbelief and shook his head. “Everingham has no idea what he’s taken on, does he?”
He assisted her from the carriage. A small hopeful crowd had gathered; a society wedding was always of interest to thehoi polloi, and grooms were known to share the largesse on happy occasions. People stared at George and made audible comments: “Red for a wedding?” “Never heard of such a thing.” “Looks a right jezebel, she does.”
Rose and Lily hurried forward, looking shocked and dismayed. “George, what on earth—”
Too late now. George hurried up the steps. “Now I know why you refused our help dressing,” Rose muttered as she and Lily arranged the skirt into graceful folds. “You look gorgeous—but you have to know what a stir it’s going to cause. What on earth were you thinking, George?” Rose was thinking about the duke’s last wedding, which had ended in disaster. She probably still felt a bit guilty about that. Well, that wasn’t George’s problem.
Lily just looked at her and shook her head. “I hope the duke won’t be too angry.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” George said. “Come on, Cal, let’s get this over with.”
“Says the blushing bride,” Cal said sardonically.
“Oh, she’s not blushing,” Rose pointed out dryly. “It’s just the reflection of that dress.”
***
The church was cold. High summer and yet the chill sank into Hart’s bones. His cravat was too tight. He ran his finger around it, hoping to loosen it. It didn’t help.
His stomach felt hollow. Had he eaten? He couldn’t remember.
The bishop, in his magnificently embroidered crimson and gold robes, moved around the altar. It was the same fellow who’d presided over the debacle that had been Hart’s last wedding. The man’s frequent darting glances at Hart showed he remembered.
Hart was just as restless. He took a deep breath and eased a finger once more between his throat and his collar.
“For goodness’ sake, if you fiddle with that one more time, you’ll ruin the so beautiful arrangement of your cravat,” Sinc said. “Stop worrying. She’ll be here soon enough.”
“I know that. I’m not the least bit worried,” Hart said stiffly. He’d pushed her into this marriage. Would she panic at the last minute and bolt? “She’ll be here,” he said, as much to reassure himself as Sinc.
Sinc laughed softly. “Can’t fool me. You’re as nervous as a cat on a sinking ship. Understandable, given what happened last t—”
“I. Am. Not. Nervous,” Hart said in a low, vehement voice.
“Of course you’re not,” his friend said in a tone that was intended to be soothing but instead made Hart want to throttle him. “If it helps, I made another bet on her.”
Hart turned wrathfully toward him. “Youwhat?”
Sinc held up his hands peaceably. “Don’t look at me likethat—I only bet that she’d turn up on time. Just thought that you’d want to know how much faith I have in her.”
It was not done to strangle your best man before the wedding, Hart reminded himself. He took a few deep breaths, forcing himself back to an appearance of calm before saying coldly, “If you ever—I meanever!—make a public bet on my wife again, so help me, Sinc, friend or not, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
“No, no, of course, not. Don’t know what got into me. Sorry, Hart. Meant no disrespect, just can’t seem to help m—”
The organ sounded an emphatic chord. The congregation hushed. Slowly Hart turned toward the entrance...
She stepped through the doorway and paused at the head of the aisle. There was an audible gasp, followed by a ripple of murmurs and whispers.
Hart’s mother gave a loud moan and swooned dramatically over the nearest man. Only he and her companion reacted, the companion fluttering forward with smelling salts.
