“Elizabeth invited us to the wedding ceremony,” Lady Merton said as the party strolled into the room. “She is on her way.” She turned her attention to Bentley. “Your betrothed will be her witness.”
“Oriana here?” The man beamed. “Had breakfast with her but she didn’t mention it. At least I don’t think she did.” The next second he was frowning. “Should I have escorted her?”
“Not at all.” Lady Merton smiled reassuringly. “She is supposed to come with the bride.”
“Well,” Uncle Richard said. “It is time for us to take our places in the garden.”
Several footmen carried more chairs out to the area to set up for the wedding. As soon as they were put in place, the housekeeper tied ribbons on them. Tables dotted the terrace and garden, all decorated with flowers and ribbons. The ballroom was full of tables as well. How many people had his mother invited?
Soon everyone was seated. Uncle Richard stood in front, and Geoff and Bentley took their places in front of Uncle Richard.
“Ah, just in time.” He smiled with satisfaction. “Harrington, your bride has arrived. Perfect timing on her part, I would say.”
Geoff swiveled his head so quickly, he thought he’d cracked his neck. Elizabeth was a vision in a pale pink gown that seemed to float around her. Her neck was adorned with a long necklace of pink pearls the likes of which he had never seen before. Her blond hair sparkled as the sun shined on it. “She is exquisite.”
“Yes, she is,” Bentley said, but he was gazing at the small dark-haired lady following Elizabeth.
It was only then that Geoff noticed her father as well.
The elusive Lord Turley. The man seemed shrunken. Although tall and broad shouldered, his jacket was loose as if he had not been eating properly. Geoff gave himself a shake. Now was not the time to attend to anything but his wedding, and his uncle was already speaking.
Elizabeth’s father stood next to Geoff, Elizabeth on his other side. Uncle Richard asked, “Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?”
“I do,” Lord Turley said.
After taking her hand from her father’s, his uncle gave it to Geoff. He tightened his fingers around hers, trying not to clutch them like a man drowning.
When he gazed into her upturned face and searched her eyes, he saw no hesitation or doubt. Instead her gaze held a warmth he had never seen before in any woman. It was very like the way his friend looked at his betrothed and his mother looked at his father, and—
“Repeat after me,” his uncle prompted.
“. . . to love and to cherish ’til death do us part.” Geoff struggled not to let his jaw drop.
He knew he cherished Elizabeth. Yet, for some reason he had never realized that he was supposed to promise to love her.
If he’d thought about it at all, he would have supposed there were vows for arranged matches and different vows for love matches. He and Elizabeth didn’t have an arranged marriage, but it was not a love match either. Perhaps he should have spoken to Uncle Richard about using the correct ceremony. Geoff would have if he’d had any idea it was necessary.
Yet, it was too late now. He had given his word to her and, as a gentleman, he must find a way to keep it. If only he knew where to begin.
Could he love her? What was love for a woman? He had never experienced the emotion. He’d never wanted to fall in love, and did not know if he would recognize it if he did.
Elizabeth’s fingers tightened around his as she said her vows. She had promised to love him as well. Did she already love him or did she find it a strange requirement?
Soon he slipped the ring on her finger, promising to worship her body—Geoff was sure he already had done that, and would be more than pleased to continue to do so. A few moments later his uncle pronounced them man and wife.
There were several prayers afterward. But he hardly heard them. For some reason the scent of the roses mingling with Elizabeth’s lavender and lemon aroma captured his whole attention. He found himself stroking the palm of her hand, and she leaned against him.
Geoff wanted nothing more than to carry her up to his room and sink into her. That is what should occur after a wedding. Not standing at doors and greeting people, then waiting for a cake to be cut. His cock strained against his breeches. Damn, if he didn’t start thinking about something else, he would embarrass himself.
Elizabeth nudged him, pointing her chin at the neighbor’s black and white cat who had found a place in the sun amongst the roses.
Would she like a pet? If so, what kind? A dog or a cat? Not one of those pug dogs. He’d rather she had a proper dog. Perhaps he, or better she, could ask for one of the Worthington puppies. After they arrived in Paris, there would be time to properly train the animal.
Uncle Richard stopped talking at the same time that Geoff glanced down and met Elizabeth’s gaze. They were married. He finally had his wife. And that was all that mattered.
* * *
Elizabeth had never seen Geoffrey look so handsome. When he took her hand from her father’s, he had smiled. Was he as happy about marryingher—as opposed to any other lady—as she was about marrying him?
