Page 73 of Christmas Comes to Little Valentine

“Now, none of that,” George said in alarm. “I am armed with several handkerchiefs, but I am bound to need one myself, so don’t start any waterworks yet.”

Meg laughed, deciding she very much liked her cousin. “I promise I won’t,” she said, taking his arm.

“You can’t go before us!” the girls cried, hurrying past them as they ran to put on their cloaks.

“Thanks for doing this,” Nat said to Hawkney, who stood beside him in the chilly church. His cousin had agreed to stand up as best man for him and so far, had been remarkably good-natured.

“Who else would you have asked?” Hawkney replied with a snort.

“I could have asked Aubrey,” Nat said, frowning.

“You said you wanted a best man,” Hawkney drawled, his blue eyes glinting.

“Pillock,” Nat muttered.

“Oh, no. You cannot recant now,” the duke told him, amused. “You needed a best man, you chose me. It was inevitable, but I am relieved you have finally admitted the truth.”

Nat gazed at him thoughtfully. “I wonder if there’s time to hit you before the ceremony.”

Hawkney laughed, rather to Nat’s surprise. He realised it had been a long time since he had heard his cousin laugh.

“You ought to get married!” he exclaimed, as surprised as Hawkney at his sudden outburst.

“Well, obviously. I have the succession to think about,” Hawk replied, shaking his head as if Nat were mad for only having just considered it.

“Not for that reason, you dolt. I mean, you ought to fall in love, find a girl who likes you, who adores you. There’s nothing like it,” Nat confided. “All those years I wasted on meaningless affairs. It’s not at all the same, Hawk.”

Hawkney rolled his eyes. “Love has nothing to do with finding a duchess, Nat. You ought to realise that much. I am happy that you and Meg are so well suited, but I cannot deny I am happier now I know she’s respectable.”

Nat shook his head sadly. “You just don’t understand. None of that matters a damn, Hawk.”

“I beg to differ,” the duke replied coolly. “But I have no desire to quarrel with you. Not today.”

Nat sighed. “You’re a clever fellow. You’ll figure it out one day. I just hope you don’t do it too late.”

Hawkney made a sound of irritation but said nothing more.

Nat paced up and down. “What’s the time?”

Hawk took out his pocketwatch. “You’ve another ten minutes yet.”

“What the devil did we get here so early for? We might have had another drink at the pub.”

“My duty is to ensure you are in church on time.”

“It’s a ten minute walk!” Nat protested, before giving up and pacing some more. “How long now?”

“Eight minutes. Shall I give you a countdown?” Hawkney suggested, quirking one eyebrow.

“You know your other job is to give the bridegroom moral support,” Nat grumbled, but the guests were filling the church now and the Reverend Honeywell appeared, as jovial as ever.

He beamed at Nat and opened his mouth to greet him, but his daughter hurried up.

“Papa!” She dipped a quick curtsey to the duke, pressed a prayer book into her father’s hand, and darted off again.

“Ah! Yes, I’ll be needing that,” Honeywell said with a laugh. “Well, the happy day is upon us at last.”

Nat thought it had seemed an interminable day so far, but finally the music began, and he turned to see Meg framed in the doorway's arch.