Page 43 of The Best Marquess

Her wedding ceremony. She was getting married.

To Finn.

In the cauldron of Lord Pinehurst’s room, with a dying man in front of her, a tearful woman behind her, and the Archbishop of Canterbury himself oh so gently interrogating their supposed love match…she’d hardly had a choice.

What nonsense. You had a choice. You just didn’t want to return to Kingsford House.

Pippa closed her eyes briefly as shame washed over her. Finn had been so wonderful; charging through a crowd to rescue her, holding her when she’d faltered after Amanda’s birth, sending her romance novels in disguise, and providing not only toe-curling kisses but mind-exploding orgasms. How was she repaying such heroic acts? Forcing him to turn their pretend betrothal into a real marriage for her own selfish ends.

She would beg forgiveness and make it up to him tenfold. Lilian had escaped Kingsford House and not only found true love, but her inner roar. Perhaps she could find her own paradise as Viscountess Knighton. Or, as it seemed she might well shortly be: Marchioness of Pinehurst.

A shudder passed through her, and Ruby paused in arranging Pippa’s hair into a loose chignon with emerald clips from the Pinehurst collection.

“Do you need a moment?” the maid asked sympathetically.

“No,” she replied, attempting a reassuring smile. “No moments to spare.”

“I wish you weren’t wedding like this.”

Pippa stilled as she considered the words. “Do you know, this is the one part I actually don’t mind. No crowds staring at me. No aisle to trip down. No flowers murdered for bouquets and arrangements. No time for foolish bedding talks, either.”

Ruby grinned as she expertly slid in another pin to secure the chignon. “If I thought you were entering this marriage ignorant, I would have stepped in. But between the textbooks, the romance novels, and the curricle outing, I’m quite confident you know what goes where. And that his lordship does as well. With admirable talent.”

“Precisely.”

Even as Pippa said the word, her stomach fluttered. Such an obvious thing, yet she hadn’t even thought about it until now. After a wedding came a wedding night. She and Finn sharing a bed. Being naked together. Pleasure.

A blush swept across her cheeks. Certain foundations might be shaky with their unexpectedly sudden wedding, but after that interlude in Hyde Park, at least she knew marital relations would be good. No, far better than good. Screamingly, writhingly wonderful.

“Pippa! Are you ready yet?” said Georgiana, as she burst into the chamber in a flutter of rose-pink skirts. “The men are starting to get restless and there is only so long I can tell them they are interesting and intelligent and special when they are as dull as an old farthing. Also, Lady Pinehurst is admirably trying to distract her, but Grandmother is threatening to come in and assist.”

Pippa and Ruby exchanged an appalled glance in the mirror.

“You are doing sterling work, Gigi,” said Pippa.

“Your sister is nearly ready,” said Ruby cheerfully. “Doesn’t she look beautiful?”

Georgiana paused and studied her. “You really do,” she replied thoughtfully. “I always thought blue was your best color, but that dark green looks splendid. Especially with those divine Pinehurst emeralds in your hair. Even your spectacles don’t look so bad.”

Pippa poked out her tongue. “As always, my spirits are uplifted by your kind words.”

“Why wouldn’t your spirits be high? Apart from the whole wedding in a bedchamber part, you are marrying the best friend who charged through a crowd to claim you and kissed you until you melted into a Pippa puddle. Now hurry up. Even the archbishop has glanced at the clock.”

And with that, her sister disappeared out the door.

“Well,” said Pippa uncertainly. “I guess all that is true.”

“It is. I’m going to miss our candid discussions.”

“What?” she squawked. “You will be accompanying me here and receiving a wage increase. Did I forget to say that?”

Ruby let out a slow breath. “Thank heavens. I didn’t want to find a new position. After all this time with you, I’m not sure I could bear a charge who actually likes shopping. Although, as a married woman, you will need an entire new wardrobe. Lord Knighton won’t want you wearing anything selected by your grandmother.”

“How dare you threaten me with shopping on my wedding day,” said Pippa, as she stood and smoothed the front of her elegant silk gown, which sported elbow-length sleeves, a gold sash under her breasts and delicate gold lace at the hem. For once, she did feel beautiful.

It seemed bridal magic occurred no matter what the location or circumstances.

A tentative knock sounded, and Lord Kingsford poked his head around the door. “Pippa m’dear, are you…oh my. Don’t you look fine as a Thoroughbred.”