Page 58 of A Virgin for His Grace
Before Arabella could respond to this delicious threat, they were surrounded by well-wishers eager to congratulate the newly married couple. Livia reached them first, her face radiant with joy as she threw her arms around her new sister with uncharacteristic exuberance.
"I knew it!" she exclaimed, tears of happiness streaming down her cheeks. "I knew Devon could not possibly abandon you to such a fate. Though I confess the manner of his intervention exceeded even my most optimistic expectations."
"You knew?" Arabella asked with amazement, pulling back to study Livia's glowing features. "Truly? All along?"
"Not the details," Livia admitted with a laugh, "but I knew my brother well enough to recognise that his apparent surrender was entirely out of character. Devon has never yielded anything he truly wanted without a fight, and it was abundantly clear that he wanted you above all else."
"Was it indeed so obvious?" Devon asked with slight embarrassment, though his arm remained firmly around his wife's waist in a gesture of unmistakable possession.
"To anyone with eyes to see," Lady Worthington interjected as she approached with her characteristic regal bearing. "The way you looked at Miss Greystone—forgive me, Your Grace—was hardly that of a disinterested employer. I confess myself curious about the extent of your investigation into Mr. Whitmore'scharacter."
"Quite extensive," Devon replied with grim satisfaction. "Once I received confirmation of his debts, I employed the finest investigators in London to uncover every detail of his past conduct. Miss Fitzwilliam's testimony was particularly enlightening, though it required considerable persuasion to convince her to speak publicly of her ordeal."
"The poor creature," Arabella said with genuine sympathy, her gaze moving to where Catherine Fitzwilliam stood near the back of the church with obvious discomfort. "It must have taken enormous courage to face him again, particularly in such a public setting."
"Indeed," Devon agreed, his expression growing serious. "I have made arrangements for her and her family to travel abroad for an extended period, should they wish it. The scandal of Whitmore's exposure will inevitably reflect upon anyone associated with him, however innocently."
The thoughtful consideration for others affected by his scheme struck Arabella as entirely characteristic of the man she had married, and she felt her love for him deepen even further at this evidence of his essential goodness.
"Your Grace, Your Grace," Lord Richard approached with obvious emotion, his weathered face showing the strain of the morning's dramatic events. "I must confess myself quite overwhelmed by... by all of this. When I escorted my daughter to church this morning, I feared I was delivering her to a most unfortunate fate. Instead, I find her elevated to the highest rank in society and, more importantly, clearly beloved by a gentlemanof honor."
"You need never doubt my devotion to your daughter, Lord Richard," Devon replied with quiet intensity. "She is more precious to me than my own life, and I swear to you upon my honour that she shall never want for anything within my power to provide."
"I can see that she shall not," Lord Richard said with obvious relief, his gaze moving between the couple with growing satisfaction. "Indeed, I begin to think that what appeared to be the greatest disaster of our family's history may prove to be its greatest blessing."
Lady Greystone approached with tears streaming down her face, her earlier anxiety transformed into overwhelming joy at her daughter's unexpected elevation.
"My dearest child," she sobbed, embracing Arabella with desperate enthusiasm, "I confess I have spent weeks fearing for your future happiness. To see you so obviously adored by such a gentleman... it is more than I dared hope for."
"Oh, Mama," Arabella replied with matching emotion, "if you could but know how much I have longed for this moment, how desperately I have hoped that somehow love might triumph over all the obstacles placed in our path."
"Love has indeed triumphed," Cordelia declared as she appeared at her sister's side, her romantic heart clearly overflowing with delight at witnessing such a fairy tale ending. "I vow I have never seen anything half so romantic as His Grace's dramatic intervention. It was like something from the finestnovel!"
"Rather more nerve-wracking to live through than to read about, I assure you," Devon said with rueful humor. "There were several moments when I feared the entire scheme might collapse, leaving Arabella worse off than before."
"But it did not collapse," Arabella said firmly, reaching up to touch his face with gentle fingers. "Your faith in love proved stronger than every obstacle society placed in our path."
The tender exchange was interrupted by the approach of Lord Stanton, whose political acumen had proven so valuable in orchestrating Whitmore's downfall.
"Congratulations, Your Grace, Your Grace," he said with obvious satisfaction. "I must confess that your wedding gift to your bride was one of the most satisfying pieces of political theater I have ever been privileged to witness. Whitmore's exposure will serve as a salutary lesson to other fortune-hunters who might seek to prey upon vulnerable ladies."
"It was hardly theater," Devon replied with a slight frown. "The evidence against Whitmore was entirely genuine, as was the threat he posed to my wife's safety and happiness."
"Of course, of course," Lord Stanton agreed hastily. "I merely meant that the timing and presentation were masterfully orchestrated. The impact upon society's attitude toward such predatory behaviour will be considerable."
As more well-wishers approached to offer their congratulations, Arabella found herself marveling at thecomplete transformation of her circumstances. This morning she had awakened as a ruined woman about to be sacrificed to a fortune-hunter's greed; now she stood as the Duchess of Ravenshollow, beloved wife of one of England's most powerful men.
Yet it was not the elevation in rank that filled her with such overwhelming joy, but rather the knowledge that she was finally free to love and be loved without restraint or concealment. The man beside her had proven his devotion through actions rather than mere words, risking his own reputation and position to ensure her safety and happiness.
"My dear Duke and Duchess," Reverend Thornfield approached with the sort of benevolent satisfaction that marked him as a man well-pleased with his morning's work, "might I suggest that we adjourn to sign the register? The legal formalities must be completed before you can begin your new life together."
"An excellent suggestion," Devon agreed, though his arm tightened possessively around Arabella's waist. "Though I confess myself eager to have all such formalities behind us."
As they made their way to the small office room where the marriage register awaited their signatures, Arabella caught sight of her reflection in one of the church's ancient mirrors. The woman staring back at her bore little resemblance to the desperate creature who had stood at this same altar less than an hour before. Gone was the hollow desperation, replaced by a radiance that seemed to emanate from within.
"You are beautiful," Devon murmured as he followed hergaze, his voice rough with emotion. "So beautiful it takes my breath away."
"I am happy," she replied simply. "For the first time in months, I am truly, completely happy."
