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“Faith, you’re my right hand,” Selina said. “If you’re not in the front row, I’ll positively revolt.”
Faith smiled. “Can’t have that, then, My Lady.” She followed Lady Quinton out. Selina had known, of course, and had given Faith a soft-blue muslin for the occasion. It brought out the maid’s pale golden hair and blue eyes.
She smiled up at her father, who had tears in his eyes.
“Oh, Papa,” she said, “don’t you cry.”
“Oh, my dear,” he said sniffling. “No lesser gentleman could deserve you.”
She patted him on the arm. “I’m getting married, Papa. Not dying.”
“Quite right, my dear. Quite right.” He dabbed at his eyes with his handkerchief.
Selina beamed at him.
* * *
The gardens at Gillingham Manor had been transformed. White chairs had been set up in rows down the center, leading up to the small lake. They were filled with the guests.
Jasper stood, alone, at the front of all those gathered. His best man, Stephen, sat next to the Dowager Duchess. Weakened after the shooting, he had made it out of the house for the special occasion but had been told by the physician that he shouldn’t be doing anything strenuous. So, he was seated beside his mother, keeping her company.
Jasper smiled as Lady Quinton and Faith came out. Lady Quinton beamed at him, waving. He smiled and waved back at her. Selina’s family had arrived a few days ago. He was not disappointed. Lord and Lady Quinton had welcomed him to the family, clearly not holding it against him that he hadn’t asked for their daughter’s hand in person.
“If you’re in love, then you’re in love,” Lady Quinton had said.
“Who are we to stand in the way?” Lord Quinton had added.
His heart beat in his chest. Jasper had not been this excited for anything since he was a child, at Christmastime. Over the past month, he had pictured this day, so many times. Here it was. It was going to happen.
The violins began to play, and then Selina, her hand tucked into the bend in her father’s arm, was walking toward him.
She was dressed in a pure-white silk gown, with an elegant lace overlay. Her hair was pulled into a low bun, and curls framed her face. She beamed at him, her eyes sparkling with tears of joy.
He heard and saw no one else. His world seemed to shrink all the way down to just the two of them. She seemed to float toward him.
Then, Lord Quinton was leaning in toward him, “Take care of her, Your Grace,” he said, winking. Lord Quinton, Jasper noted, had tears in his eyes.
Jasper shook his hand. Lord Quinton placed Selina’s hand in his.
She beamed at him, wiping away a stray tear that had slipped down her cheek. He took her hand, and then, together, they walked up the steps of the dais, toward where the priest awaited them.
At long last, he stood, holding her hands in his, as they faced each other. He took her in, wanting to remember this moment for as long as he lived. His face was beginning to hurt from how long he’d been smiling.
“We are gathered here, as family and friends, to witness the marriage of these two bright souls,” the priest began. “Jasper Henry Munro and Selina Elisabet Drake. We are here to celebrate their union and their love for each other. And,” the priest said, “I’ve been assured by both that there is absolutely no reason for me to ask if anyone objects to this union.”
There was laughter. Selina grinned at Jasper. This had been her idea.
“Thus, I will skip that bit, as per their request, since I believe this marriage will occur whether or not anyone disagrees.”
“That’s for certain,” Selina said.
“Agreed,” Jasper added.
“Well, since there will be no objections, let us begin,” the priest said.
“Do you, Jasper Henry Munro, Duke of Gillingham, take Selina Elisabet Drake to have and to hold, to love, honor, and cherish, from this day until your last?”
“I do,” he said, looking into those bright hazel eyes, which were so green, with that golden touch of honey. She smiled at him, her face lighting up.
