A collective gasp flew through the chapel like birds startled from a hedge. Leticia’s mouth fell open. Even her aunt emitted a thoroughly inelegant sound. The guests exchanged stunned looks, and then, all at once, burst into delighted applause.
Leticia had just enough sense to turn her wide eyes toward Gabriel.
He lifted one brow in answer, as though the true surprise was yet to begin.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Leticia was notentirely convinced her heart still beat normally. It instead fluttered in place like a trapped bird, all sound and wing, as Lord Barrington calmly announced that he and Mrs. Bainbridge had married in London prior to this day. She had expected scandal, but not this scandal. Certainly not in front of a chapel full of nobility. All these people were there for their wedding. Mrs. Bainbridge had been planning this event for months. Gasps tumbled amongst the stained glass and vaulted ceiling, followed by laughter, whispered delight, and more than a few wide-eyed attempts at discretion.
Her own mouth had gone dry. Even her aunt emitted a strangled sound beside her.
The only thing that kept Leticia steady was her gaze locked on Gabriel’s.
He stood just behind Barrington, not arriving late as she had feared, but standing at attention, dusty and travel-worn, his gray eyes fixed upon her with unmistakable purpose. When Barrington finished receiving astonished congratulations, and the chapel had half-settled again, Gabriel stepped forward with the quiet certainty of a man who had just chosen his course and meant to see it through.
He did not approach her. Instead, he addressed the entire congregation.
“Your Graces, ladies, gentlemen. I beg your indulgence.” His voice was deep and sure. “Lord Barrington has surprised you with the announcement of his marriage. But since you are all here…and since I amfortunate enough to stand here with her…I wonder if I might ask your patience for one more surprise.”
He reached into his coat and produced a folded document upon heavy cream parchment. “This is a special license from the Archbishop of Canterbury, obtained on what I freely admit was little sleep and considerable determination. It permits me to marry here and now the woman I love.”
A storm of astonished chatter rolled down the pews. Several ladies fanned themselves harder.
Leticia’s breath rushed in and out. He looked only at her now.
“Leticia,” he said, softer so only she could hear, “Marry me today, in this chapel, so that nothing, ever again, delays our future?”
She opened her mouth, but no sound came. She swallowed, found her voice, and whispered, “Yes… yes.”
He offered his hand. In a daze, she placed hers into it.
“Yes, now?” she breathed, glancing down at her plain lavender dress. “Like this?”
Gabriel’s mouth curved, but before he could answer, Mrs. Bainbridge swept forward with silk in her arms. “I would be greatly offended if my gown went unused,” she declared. “And after all, I am already married. It would be criminal to waste a perfectly good wedding dress.”
Leticia laughed, half disbelieving, half joyous, and for a fleeting instant, she thought of another borrowed gown, worn on a night when she had not yet known where she belonged. Now, she allowed herself to be swept toward the small anteroom beside the chapel, where Mrs. Bainbridge, her aunt, and two maids descended upon her with pins and lace ties. The gown was not white, but a shade of blush silk that turned luminous in the candlelight, something warm, and utterly her. She slipped it over her head with surprisingly little fuss, and the silk settled around her waist.
Felicity darted in at the last moment, offering pins with a flourishshe had clearly pilfered from one of the maids. “Stand still, cousin, or I’ll be forced to improvise,” she teased, though her grin betrayed delight rather than mischief.
“Almost,” her aunt murmured, tugging gently at the fit.
“There,” Mrs. Bainbridge declared. “Now you may be seen.”
The door opened softly.
Gabriel turned. For a moment, he did not move at all. His gaze steady on Leticia.
“A borrowed gown,” he said, his voice low but certain. “But this time there is no mask, and if there were, it is you I would choose. It was always you.”
Leticia’s breath caught. The mask, the mistaken proposal, the borrowed life, all of it undone in that single vow.
“And a name,” he added, a flicker of heat and humor in his eyes. “One I offered without knowing to whom I gave it.”
A quiet smile bloomed on her lips.
“I know now,” he said simply. “And I’d give it again.”
He opened his palm. A ring of warm gold cradled a gleaming star ruby. Its heart was touched with light. “It belonged to my grandmother,” he said. “If you will permit me…it would please me to see you wear it now, and forever.”
