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When he finished the kiss, Henry handed the letter to her father despite her sound of protest. Trumbull opened it, his gaze tracking slowly over the words, his expression unchanged when he refolded the parchment and tucked it into his coat pocket. “You toffs spend more time than any of the rest of us concerned with where you come from. Better to pay attention to where you’re goin’, eh?”
Before he could answer, the guard Alfie had sent to get the vicar returned with the man in tow. “Right!” Alfie clapped his hands, approaching Jack and Helene and the altar. “I’d like to note that this halfwit agreed to two dozen fights, and he still owes me. I expect to be paid. I’ll consider it my dowry.”
Adelaide cut him a look. “Dowries typically work in the opposite direction, Alfie.”
Alfie’s eyes went wide. “Wot?I’mto payhimto take you off me hands?”
“Well, it’s not as though I’ve beenonyour hands for several years, but yes.”
“Cor!” he said. “I ain’t doin’ that.”
“Imagine my surprise,” she said dryly, as those assembled joined them at the front of the church, creating a small half circle around the vicar.
“I do love a wedding,” Sesily said.
Duchess sighed. “Another man added to the mix, I suppose. Such a great deal of work. So emotional.”
“Best to have a husband on an island in the sea, is it?” Adelaide tossed over her shoulder at the Duchess.
“Best to have no husband at all,” Duchess said. “Butneeds must, and if you must have one, this duke appears to be not the worst of the options.”
Henry inclined his head in the Duchess’s direction. “High praise, Your Grace.”
“Congratulations on your nuptials, Your Grace,” came her reply.
Henry grabbed his bride’s hand, turning her to him, putting his hands to her face and tilting her up to look at him. “I love you. My South London nipper. My North London darling.”
Something fresh flashed in her eyes, something new and perfect. What he’d been aching for from the start. Something honest and clear and full of hope of a future. And she reached up to wrap a hand around his neck and pull him down for a kiss.
When it was through, she opened her eyes and smiled, spreading warmth through him until all he wanted was to get her married and get her home. To their bed.
Behind him, the door to the church opened, loud and ominous, and her gaze flickered past his shoulder, and everything changed.
“Is it too early for me to speak now, else forever hold my peace?”
The entire assembly turned to the back of the church, where Danny stood, looking as though he’d just won at the races. And by his side, pistol in hand, was the Marquess of Havistock.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The last time she’d been in this church, Adelaide had been wearing a too-small stolen frock, and she’d been without a weapon. This time, she was prepared, joined by the women who had stood by her side from the moment she’d left the South Bank.
And the man who had vowed to love her forever. To share a future with her.
Except now, just as she had Henry in her grasp, Danny and the Marquess of Havistock had arrived to ruin another one of her weddings.
Adelaide had had quite enough of that, and she was not alone. In the wake of Havistock’s words, those assembled turned and shifted, each one reaching for the closest weapon. Hands slid into hidden skirt pockets, inside coats, and—in Adelaide’s case—to the blade strapped to her thigh. She gripped the ivory handle of her blade and waited as her father palmed his club and stared Danny down.
Henry spoke first. “I should’ve taken your head when I had the chance, Danny.”
“Double crossed by a damn traitor,” Alfie added. “And after I treated you like a son.”
Danny spread his arms wide and smiled at the assembly. “It ain’t personal, Alfie. I got with the man most worth my time. Just like you did.” He paused. “Exceptyou made a mistake, because this story don’t end with your precious girl gettin’ married to a duke.”
“That’s quite enough, Daniel,” the Marquess of Havistock said, obviously annoyed that Danny was receiving more attention than he was. “I shall handle it from here.”
He raised his voice to be heard throughout the church. “It is true what they say, is it not? That if you want something done, you’ve got to do it yourself.”
“Father!” The horror and disdain in Lady Helene’s voice were undeniable.
