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“Stop looking in that mirror, my lord,” Sherborne said as he walked past him. “It will not change. You’ll look just the same as you always do.”
“I can’t help it!” Marcus said hurriedly. “I do not want to stand at that altar looking like a fool.”
“Your shirt’s tucked in, and your cravat is aligned. You’re good to go,” Sherborne said, clapping him on the shoulder again as he walked around to tidy up the room. “You’re just missing one thing.”
“What is that?”
“The lady on your arm,” Sherborne said, pulling a laugh from Marcus.
“Not for long, though,” he said, looking away from the mirror at last and turning to face Walter.
“You ready, brother?” Walter asked, pointing back to the door.
“More ready than I ever thought I could be,” Marcus confirmed as he walked toward the door. On the landing, he strained his ears, for further down the corridor was Violette’s room. Her lady’s maid and her mother were clearly with her from the laughter coming from the room.
He longed to be with them and be privy to enjoying that laughter with Violette, but he didn’t have long to wait now. Very soon, he and Violette would be married, and they could be alone together again. At last!
***
Violette was only too happy to ignore the stiffness in her father’s arm. She had only seen him once since the day she and her mother had walked out of Snowspring manor. This was their second meeting, and though it was cordial, her father was also cold. Violette didn’t doubt the relationship was fraught enough now, torn forever, that any real affection between them was lost, but she was thankful to him, deep down, for two reasons.
Firstly, if he had never been the overbearing man he was, she never would have fled and tripped over Marcus’ feet that day in Hyde Park. Secondly, her father had agreed to give her away on her wedding day.
As the church doors opened, her father led her down the aisle. She forgot about the stiffness of their interlocked arms and turned her focus to the end of the aisle instead. On one side, her mother sat crying tears of happiness already.
Victor had not been able to make it back for the wedding, though he had sent so many gifts that Marcus had remarked more than once on the great love there had to be between the two of them. Behind Rowena was another face that warmed Violette to see, Sherborne. He was a huge part of their lives now, and with a firm job as Marcus’ valet, he was here to stay.
Violette turned her eyes to the other side of the church to see Marcus’ brothers, all lined up at the front. Unable to pick just one best man between them, Marcus had insisted that all three of them could stand beside him, though Peter and Laurie looked a little uncomfortable in their excessively formal clothes. Behind them in the pews, the Marquess was sat.
Since the day Violette had met the Marquess, there had been a lightness brought to her life. Having heard of the Marquess’ initial reluctance to have her as a daughter-in-law, she had been very nervous over meeting him, yet their meeting had gone surprisingly well. He appeared to like her instantly, and by the time she was making jests, he was laughing at them as freely as Marcus did.
He was a kind man beneath his gruff manner, and he most certainly had a lovingness to him that her father didn’t have. She just rather expected his kindness had been muffled by grief for a long time now.
Finally, Violette lifted her eyes to the most important person in the room.
Marcus was waiting for her in front of the altar, with a smile so large on his cheeks that she was certain his face had to ache from it. The mere thought tempted her to laugh. He was dressed in a midnight blue waistcoat, with a navy-blue jacket over the top. The sight of him reminded her of a stolen moment they’d had together just a few nights ago.
They had escaped the chaperone his father had insisted on them having and hid in one of the spare rooms in the house. There, cuddled up on a divan together, they had laid in each other’s arms, with her head resting on his chest. She longed to return to such a moment, where they would never need a chaperone again.
At the end of the aisle, Lord Brunlow passed Violette’s hand into Lord Northrive’s. Nothing was said between them, though Lord Brunlow stepped back into the pews, consciously putting a little space between himself and his wife.
Violette turned her focus back to Marcus as he clung to her hand.
“Ready for this?” he said in a whisper.
“I could not be more ready.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” She only just managed to finish whispering the words as the organ music came to a close, and the vicar stepped forward, ready to begin the ceremony.
“Dearly beloved,” the vicar said with a booming voice that echoed back at the two of them off the stone walls of the church. “We are gathered here today in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this woman. The Earl of Northrive, Lord Marcus Catling, and Lady Violette Blay.”
Violette felt Marcus squeeze her hand ever so softly, urging her to look back at him. The firmness of his hold on her was all that she needed in that moment.
Behind them, there was a busy congregation looking on, a congregation that fortunately lacked the presence of Lady Helen, for when Violette had revealed Lady Helen’s actions to Marcus, he had quickly decided he had no wish to continue the friendship between the families. Yet even with all those people turned to watch them make their vows to each other, Violette felt it was one of the most private moments of her life.
She had been with Marcus for many weeks pretending to be a man, and then many weeks since where they had been betrothed under the watchful eyes of chaperones. Now had come the time to declare how she truly felt for everyone to hear, and she was only too happy to do it.
“Lady Violette Blay,” the vicar called her attention, though she kept her eyes on Marcus. “Wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as you both shall live?”
There was not a doubt in Violette’s mind. She clung a little tighter onto Marcus’ hand, watching as he smiled down at her.
“I will.”
