Page 66 of To Break the Rules

Silas watched as Fred squared his shoulders and stood tall, his eyes suspiciously shiny.

“It would be a great honour, my lord.”

Silas beamed and let out a breath of relief. “Right, then. Come along, what are we all waiting for? I have a beautiful woman who wants to marry me, and I want it done before she comes to her senses.”

“It’s a fair point,” St Clair said, hurrying away to greet the ladies before Silas could retaliate.

Chapter 19

Kitty!

The most extraordinary thing has happened. Lucia is marrying Lord Cavendish by special licence at his home this afternoon!

Naturally, in the circumstances, I think the two of them will be unwilling to go to Green Park for the fireworks tonight. I depend on you in that case to bolster my courage enough to face Montagu.

Oh, how I wish we’d found a way to get out of it!

Come to stay with me for a few days, there’s a dear. The house will be dreadfully quiet without Lucia.

―Excerpt of a letter from Miss Matilda Hunt to Miss Kitty Connolly.

1st August 1814. Cavendish House, The Strand, London

“Here.”

Matilda looked around to see St Clair holding out a handkerchief. Just as well, as the one she’d brought was sodden.

“Thank you,” she murmured, hoping she didn’t look too much of a fright. “I always cry at weddings,” she added, sniffing.

“So does my mother,” St Clair said, with the weighty sigh of a man well used to carrying extra handkerchiefs for such occasions.

Matilda turned her attention back to the couple at the front of the room and sighed. The way they were staring at each other made a lump rise in her throat. It was rather wonderful, and yet somehow too intimate. She didn’t doubt Lord Cavendish would have the house cleared bare moments after they’d served wedding breakfast. He looked like a man eager to be alone with his wife.

Not that she could blame him. Aashini looked stunning. Dressed in a vibrant green dress, she was young and fresh and lovely, her golden skin glowing with health and vibrancy. There was a pretty flush at her cheeks and a sparkle in her dark eyes that Matilda had never seen before. She looked happy. Radiantly happy.

As did her grandmother.

Matilda had not yet been introduced to the old lady who was sitting and watching proceedings with as much emotion as her, but she was eager to be. She was fascinated by her, by the glorious colour of her yellow gown, which seemed to be one lengthy swathe of fabric, and by the red mark painted on her forehead. Questions crowded her mind as she realised how ignorant she was about the country of Aashini’s birth, and she hoped she’d be able to answer some of them after the ceremony.

She turned her attention back to the happy couple as the minister spoke the final lines of the service.

“For, as much as Silas and Aashini have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a ring, and by joining of hands; I pronounce that they be man and wife together, In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

Matilda found need of St Clair’s handkerchief once again and was relieved that the minister carried on through another prayer and a sermon before bringing the ceremony to a close, so she could get herself under control.

***

The wedding breakfast was an intimate affair, for which Aashini was grateful. She was feeling thoroughly overwhelmed.

Just Matilda, St Clair, Dharani, and Mr Davis were in attendance, though Silas’s valet insisted he ought not be eating with the quality.

“Stop objecting and sit down,” Dharani scolded the man, making Aashini bite her lip, wondering if the fellow would take offence. “What?” her grandmother demanded, catching her anxious look. “I’m hungry, if no one else is. Aren’t you hungry?” she demanded of Mr Davis, who looked at the impressive spread in front of him and shrugged.

“I could eat,” he admitted.

“Excellent,” Dharani said, waving at him to sit down at the place beside her. “You sit there,” she instructed, as Mr Davis looked as though he dare not do anything less. “Now, I understand valets know everything about their masters, is that true?”

“Well, of course,” Mr Davis replied, looking very much on his dignity.