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She hoped Dom would think so.
Constancia and Charles walked in, startling her out of her reverie. ‘Your new dress is pretty, Miss Theo!’ Charles said. ‘Why did I have to get new nankeens? They’re scratchy, and I like my old ones better.’
‘A special occasion calls for festive clothes, and the trousers will soften,’ Theo said. ‘I will only be married once.’ Dear Lord, may this not be a mistake!
While Charles wandered to the window, eager to inspect the horses traversing the lane, Constancia took her hand. ‘Senhor Ransleigh is a good man, Miss Theo. He will take care of you and the boy. This have I prayed for since we left Mary Santo das Montanhas.’
Dom was a good man. It made loving him harder to resist, but at the same time quelled that part of her nervousness which stemmed from putting herself in the hands of a man not her father.
A husband held so many rights over a wife, including ownership of all her wealth. Sensitive to that, the day after she accepted his proposal, Dom insisted they consult her father’s solicitor and have papers prepared before the wedding that would place in trust for Charles all the properties she wanted him to have and set aside a good portion of her inheritance in separate funds for Charles, the school, and her own personal use—all of it untouchable by a husband.
When she protested that made it sound like she didn’t trust him, he reminded her that once married, the law gave her no further control over her property—and if anything happened to him, those assets would go to his heirs, administered by a solicitor who would look to their interests—not those of her or Charles.
Though there wouldn’t be time to complete the complicated process before the wedding, he’d also insisted the solicitor begin setting up the jointure and settlement agreements she would receive out of his own funds in the event he predeceased her.
‘Not that I have any plans of shuffling off this mortal coil,’ he assured her. ‘I didn’t live through all that pain and suffering to trade this for a halo yet—not when the best part of surviving is about to begin.’
Waggling his eyebrow roguishly, he placed tickling little kisses on her hand that made her laugh and relax, for the moment, the tension within her that coiled tighter and tighter as the wedding approached.
No, she had no qualms about the character of man she was marrying. Just the institution itself—and the difficulties of keeping her emotions in check when living so close to the mesmerising Dominic Ransleigh.
One problem at a time, she told herself. First, she needed to formally settle her arrangement with the Hazletts.
Though too anxious about the school to want to delay their return to Suffolk by taking a wedding journey, she had agreed to remain in London a few days by themselves to settle into their new relationship. The best way not to worry about the ramifications of that relationship, she figured, was to spend that time enjoying the sensual freedom marriage would give them.
Now, that prospect she could view with enthusiasm.
After another knock, a beaming Aunt Amelia swept in. ‘It’s time, Theo, dear. How lovely you look!’
‘I’ll never be the beauteous daughter of a duke, but I hope I’ll do,’ she replied ruefully.
‘You’ll be yourself, and that’s what Dominic Ransleigh wanted,’ Aunt Amelia assured her.
I hope so, she thought as the small group descended the stairs.
As she entered the parlour, her eyes went immediately to Dom, who stood next to the priest and a gentleman in a Dragoon’s uniform she didn’t recognise. Dom, too, had the erect bearing of a soldier. But instead of colourful regimentals, he wore a black jacket over a cream waistcoat and black trousers, the jacket perfectly fitted, the sheen of the fabric elegant, and all of it looking spanking new, as if he’d just returned from his tailor. ‘Dandy Dom’ indeed, she thought, awe and attraction rippling through her.
Then he saw her. A smile lighting his face, he murmured something to the priest, his gaze never leaving hers as he walked over to take her hand and kiss it. ‘How lovely you look! Is that a new gown? I like it.’
‘You’re looking rather fine yourself. Did you fit in a visit to Bond Street?’
Dom laughed. ‘I’m not sure whether my tailor was more gratified to receive a new order or horrified at trying to make a garment for a man with one arm that still fit to his standards of perfection.’
‘He succeeded. Though you look equally splendid in an old hunting jacket.’
‘You didn’t seem so impressed when you met me that first day in the lane.’
‘You were thinner then, and tired. Now you’re...not.’
‘I can’t wait to show you how much I’m...not,’ he murmured, before turning her towards the soldier who’d followed him. ‘Who’d have thought I’d come to such an important day with all my cousins scattered who knows where? Even my uncle, who practically lives at the Lords, is out of town. I had to scour the clubs to find a friend to stand up with me. Miss Branwell, may I present Lieutenant Tom Wetherby, another stout member of the Royals.’
‘Delighted, ma’am,’ the Dragoon said, bowing. ‘I’d kiss your hand, but Dom would skewer me with my sabre.’
Before she could reply, the priest waved to them. ‘Time to take our places,’ the lieutenant said, and ushered them back to the prelate.
Dom squeezed her suddenly trembling hand in his warm one. ‘Trust me, Theo?’ he murmured as he led her over.
‘Y-yes.’
‘Smile, then. You’re supposed to be the happy bride—not a prisoner on the way to the guillotine. You’ll have our guests think you don’t really want to marry me.’
‘I must smile, then. I can’t have them thinking you anything but the most compassionate, understanding, helpful gentleman I’ve ever known,’ she added, annoyingly close to tears.
‘And wise. You could add wise. Witty, well read, liberal-minded.’ He lowered his voice to a mock-seductive range and bent to whisper at her ear, ‘And devastatingly attractive.’
‘Modest, too,’ she added with a chuckle, her nerves settling, as surely he’d meant them to. ‘And altogether wonderful.’
And he was. She must do all she could to see he never regretted taking up the cudgels in defence of his too-tall, too-opinionated, problem-encumbered spinster tenant.
Over the next few moments, they intoned the ancient words of the wedding service, Dom placed a plain band on her finger, and the priest pronounced them man and wife. When her perplexed expression afterward protested the kiss of the new bride that was practically chaste, he murmured, ‘Wait until later.’
Then it was off to sign the parish register and into the dining room, where Aunt Amelia had assembled a bountiful repast for a small group of family and a few of her closest friends.
One of those turned out to be the formidable Lady Jersey, who cut her from the crowd and drew her away with the expertise of a Lake country sheepdog managing his herd. Leaning close, she murmured, ‘I shall congratulate you, even though you cheated me of the amusement of watching you lead the suitors Amelia and I had chosen a merry dance! But I can’t complain; you’ve pulled off a coup. Only a man as high in the instep as the Duke of Dunham would think his daughter could do better than a Ransleigh. No matter; I’ve invited the duke and the daughter to dine next week. I can’t wait to share the details of your nuptials.’
She swept away to attach herself to the Dragoon, leaving Theo immensely relieved she’d got herself married before she was pulled into that lady’s web of intrigue.
* * *
Still, as the afternoon wore on, she became increasingly anxious for the party to end. Her cheeks ached from smiling, her head ached from giving polite replies to congratulations and turning evasive answers to those brash enough to enquire about the brevity of their courtship. Dom had abandoned her to play the perfect bridegroom, circulating among the society ladies Aunt Amelia had invited, parcelling out attention equally, keeping them all nodding and laughing with his wit. It was the first time Theo had seen him work his charm in public, and his skill was impressive.
When he finally came back to claim her arm, she said, ‘Now I’m sure the wedding was a mistake.’
His smile faded instantly. ‘What do you mean?’
‘The way you’ve bedazzled all Aunt Amelia’s friends, you should have been a politician. I can see you now on the hustings, charming the masses.’
‘All the Ransleigh men are bedazzling,’ he tossed back. ‘And I think we’ve been sociable long enough. Shall we leave? The staff at Alastair’s town house has a cold supper ready for us whenever we like. If we get to it. I anticipate the meal we share first may last a very long time. I’m ravenous, and I’ve been waiting for it for ever.’
Desire spiralled though her. ‘No more ravenous than I.’ As he clasped her hand and led her over to Aunt Amelia to say their farewells, Theo hid a secret smile.
