Reverend Appleton gave a tolerant nod. “It is not officially part of the ceremony, but… yes, you may.”
Without delay, Evander cupped Olivia’s cheek and pressed his lips to hers. It was not a passionate kiss, but one full of promise—warm and reverent, like a seal upon a vow spoken from the heart.
As he pulled back from the kiss, he whispered, “Thank you… for marrying me.”
“Well, I had nothing else to do today,” she replied with a mischievous look in her eyes.
He chuckled, the sound echoing faintly in the quiet chapel. There was something so Olivia in her irreverent reply, and heloved her all the more for it. In that moment, joy surged through him, deeper than anything he had ever known.
He had no idea what the coming days would bring—the whispers from Society, the strain of adjusting to married life, or the weight of trying to win her heart fully—but none of it seemed daunting. Not with her by his side.
8
Olivia sat across from Evander in the softly rocking coach, her gloved hands tightly clasped in her lap. Though she tried to keep her expression serene, a quiet storm of nerves churned within her. There was no reason to feel this unsettled, since Evander was her dearest friend, a man she trusted above all others. He had rescued her from disgrace and offered her protection under his name. She ought to feel nothing but gratitude.
And yet, beneath the surface of that gratitude lay an uncomfortable truth: she had ensnared him in a marriage born not of love, but necessity. Would he come to regret it? Would he, in time, come to resent her?
Evander’s voice broke the quiet. “You are unusually quiet,” he observed.
“I am,” she admitted, without lifting her gaze from her lap.
Rather than press her, he shifted from his seat across from her and settled beside her on the padded bench. His nearness offered unexpected comfort.
“You need not fear for the future,” he said. “I am here. And I always will be.”
The words, simple as they were, provided her with immense comfort. She turned her head to meet his gaze, her lips lifting into a faint smile. “And your father? How do you think he’ll respond to the news of our marriage?”
Evander winced. “With thunder, no doubt. But I will not allow him to be cruel to you.”
She arched a brow. “You forget I know your father well. He blusters, yes, but his bark is far worse than his bite. I can handle him.”
“Perhaps,” he said, his jaw tightening. “But now you are my wife, and no one—least of all him—shall speak to you with anything less than respect.”
She drew in a breath, startled anew by the sound of the word.Wife.“I am your wife,” she echoed, more to herself than to him.
“That you are,” he said with a crooked grin. “Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten?”
She laughed. “No. I remember the ceremony well enough. But it feels… strange. As if I have stepped into someone else’s life.”
“Not just anyone,” he teased. “You are now the wife of the handsomest man in London.”
She nudged him playfully with her shoulder. “You are certainly the cockiest.”
He gave a theatrical sigh. “But can you blame me? Handsomeness of this caliber is a burden few can bear.”
His banter worked its magic, as it always had. The tension in her shoulders eased, and for the first time since leaving the chapel, Olivia felt herself begin to breathe again.
“I will need to acquire some mourning clothes to grieve Bryon’s passing properly,” she remarked.
Evander shook his head. “We are newlyweds. That is cause for celebration, not a time for mourning. I would prefer if you wouldn’t wear black.”
“Are you quite sure?”
“I am.”
The coach slowed, wheels crunching on gravel. Outside the window loomed a grand stone townhouse, its columns proud and stately in the pale afternoon light. Evander opened the door and stepped out, turning to offer his hand.
Once her boots touched the ground, he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm with familiar ease, guiding her towards the front steps. But with each step closer to the door, Olivia’s breath quickened. The weight of what lay ahead settled on her chest. This was no longer a visit—it was her home now. Her future.
