Page 12 of The Beastly Duke's Christmas Bride
“Did they have to marry?”
“No. Yes. Not really. But yes.”
It was Tony who let out a sigh now. “You never change. How are you always so cryptic? You have a tongue. Use it.”
“I also have two fists,” Sebastian volunteered. He could probably lift Tony with one hand. The lad hardly met his shoulder and was so slightly built that sometimes Sebastian worried his valet might blow over in a gust of wind.
Not that different to his bride, he recalled faintly, remembering his repeated shock in discovering her willow figure in her dress the morning of the proposal. That had been two days ago. He had found her in a fine dress but without gloves again. There was that stubborn look in her eye. A weathered expression, too, that told him something more was going on.
I suppose I’ll found it eventually once we marry. If we marry.
Unable to resist the urge, he pulled out his pocket watch for the third time to find that only another ninety seconds had passed. Now she would be five minutes late to her wedding.
“I am here.” He fumbled with the watch, making three attempts to tuck it away by the time it worked. Possibly because he was busy looking at her.
Lady Isabel Ravenshaw.
There was that yellow dress again. Maybe it was her favorite. She was hastily brushing out any wrinkles with her maid fluttering around to offer further help. Both of them tugged off their cloaks and had snow in their hair with bright, pink cheeks.
“Terribly sorry about that,” Isabel called with a forced smile as she hastily started to make her way down the aisle. She must have said something to her maid as the young woman hesitated and then hastily followed after.
“Is anything amiss?” Sebastian asked her.
She shook her head. “Not at all. No, we only…” There was a moment of hesitation. It was only when he nodded that she reluctantly finished speaking. “We couldn’t find a hackney.”
Ever observant, his valet said, “You walked here?”
Certainly not. A lady wouldn’t do that. It’s not close enough to walk, not in this weather.
“It wasn’t that far,” Isabel reassured them.
A stone landed heavy in his stomach. Of course she had. She had taken a hackney the other night instead of her own carriage. Even now, she wasn’t wearing gloves and a dress he had just seen her wear recently. There had been the prior concern over the empty kitchens he had found and the chill of the house that night he brought Isabel home. He should have considered this as well.
I shouldn’t have even left her alone. How can a lady be living like that? Surely she should have said something. Stubborn lass.
That night had been like any other for all the life he had endured thus far. It felt like he had been carrying a broken bird, waking her as gently as possible for her home’s location. And then no one had even been there to assist her. He didn’t see any other choice but to step in, warm her up, and keep watch through the night to keep her safe.
And I needed the night to reconcile to what had to happen next.
Being caught holding her unattended meant only one thing. He had seen it happen to one of his oldest friends, Tristan, and now it had happened to him.
Now he wished his friends were here.
“Wake up!” Everyone turned––the ladies jumped––to see Tony shaking the vicar who mumbled but opened his eyes. “Come join the fun, won’t you?”
Sebastian sent him a look but brushed it off so they could indeed begin the inevitable union. It had ruined his plans for the holiday. His friends, the four of them dukes, should have met at Julian’s southern estate for a cozy holiday. He had delayed the trip and now… Well, it was rather late.
A trip to Eastwynd was due anyhow, and I can perhaps join the gentlemen later for a few days. It wasn’t as though they were going to actually come back to London at this time with my abrupt announcement. Rather glad they couldn’t make it in time. I wonder if the letter even arrived yet.
The vicar made it to his position and then frowned deeply at the lot of them. “Is this everyone?” he asked like it was an affront not to have full pews here.
Isabel and Sebastian locked eyes. “Yes.”
Harrumphing, the vicar opened his book and muttered under his breath something about ‘disgrace’ before moving on. He did better when Sebastian gave him a warning look.
With that, the vicar sped along in the Common Book of Prayer with a cheery sort of voice and a forced smile.
The scripts were read, and no vows were necessary. Sebastian accepted Isabel and Isabel accepted Sebastian. Rings were exchanged. Then the vicar announced them husband and wife.
