Eight Hunting Lyons (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

Chapter Six

F or the second time, Madeline found herself standing before a vicar as he asked if anyone present had cause why she might not be lawfully joined in matrimony to the man beside her. Of course, they were at St. George’s rather than St. Paul’s. She was wearing her second finest dress and only her parents were in attendance, along with a witness or two. It could not have been more different from the grandiose affair that had ended so horrifically a few weeks prior.

She was rather like a clockwork toy going through the motions. She parroted the words as instructed, knelt and bowed her head as directed. For all that she was aware of what was being said and done, she might well have been sleepwalking. It was only the heavy weight of a ring sliding on her finger which penetrated the haze that surrounded them. Glancing down at her hand, she noted the ornate gold band set with emeralds and diamonds that now rested there on her third finger. It fit perfectly, which was something of a marvel.

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the vicar intoned. It might have held weight and gravitas had his voice not been somewhat pinched with a nasal quality. Was that a requirement of clergymen? The man would sound forever as though he were battling a cold.

Her thoughts about the vicar and his decided lack of impressiveness were overshadowed by the heavy sigh of relief from her parents. Heavy enough that everyone else in attendance spared them a quelling glance. It might have been embarrassing had it not all been so utterly ridiculous. She had married a total stranger, a man she barely knew, in an arrangement brokered by a disreputable woman who operated a gaming hell. And her parents were relieved. Because that was preferable to her being jilted by a man who lacked any sort of honor or moral character at all. The absurdity of it all was simply baffling.

Registers were signed and all the details were recorded for posterity. When the task was completed, Oliver offered her his arm.

It shouldn’t have taken her aback. And in truth, it was the proper thing for him to do. It was rather that, in doing so, it cemented for her the position he now held in her life. Perhaps it would have been better to have considered it prior to marrying him. Still, the enormity of it was daunting as she considered that, for all intents and purposes, she had literally put her life in his hands.

Madeline swayed on her feet, suddenly overwhelmed with doubt. She hadn’t fainted when she’d been jilted. But she might very well swoon now that she was actually a bride.

“Are you unwell?” he asked, frowning at her in concern.

She wanted to say that she was fine. Her lips parted to form the words but no sound emerged. Nothing escaped her but a barely audible and utterly humiliating squeak. It wasn’t at all what she’d been led to believe. The room didn’t swim. The floor didn’t rush up to meet her. No heavy curtain of blackness descended upon her. Everything went a little hazy and murky, as if she were under water. And then there was nothing at all.

Church was no place to utter the word that just escaped him. Thankfully, everyone else had already left the building to wait for them outside except for the vicar who was now glowering at him. It was a small and very sad crowd to be throwing rice at any one. Four people in total. Of course, given that the prospect of being wedded to him had rendered her unconscious, having fewer people to bear witness no longer seemed like such a problem. In fact, given what had occurred and the fact that Madeline was already at the center of a scandal that centered on her alleged lack of virtue, fainting in front of a crowd would only add fuel to the fire.

Hoisting her into his arms, he moved to one of the pews nearby and settled her onto it. Gently, he patted her cheeks. “Madeline? I do not have a vinaigrette and I do not think asking your mother for one bodes well for our union.”

She was still and silent for a moment longer. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, her lashes fluttered and her eyes opened. She stared up into the painted ceiling of the church and frowned in confusion.

“Where are we?”

“Still in the church. You fainted,” he stated flatly. “Swooned like a deb at Almack’s.”

“I’ve never fainted in my life,” she protested.

“Well now you have,” he said, more than a bit miffed that she’d chosen that precise moment to suddenly join the ranks of the ton’s limp swans.

A blush stole over her cheeks as she sat up and placed her head in her hands. “I’m so terribly sorry.”

“We can have it annulled,” he offered. “If that is what you wish. This is—I know it’s all a rush and you’ve clearly had second thoughts.”

“I do not!” she decried immediately, clearly horrified at the notion. “It isn’t that at all… it’s just… the suddenness of everything overwhelmed me for a moment. But I am still quite firm in my resolve and in my decision, Oliver. I have not changed my mind. Have you?”

“I am equally firm in my resolve,” he answered, hating the hesitant and tremulous quality that crept into her voice, as if she were afraid he, too, would abandon her to the jackals. “Your parents are waiting outside, along with our witnesses. Is there some sort of celebration planned?”

“No,” she answered. “My parents pointed out that the expense of my previous wedding breakfast, which actually became Coraline’s wedding breakfast, had been quite great and given that it was such a small, discreet group, eschewing any of the fanfare seemed to be the more sensible thing to do.”

She parroted those words in a tone that he recognized as her father’s. The unfairness of that struck him. It fanned the flames of righteous indignation inside him. Did no one stand up for her? “Why do they give her everything?” he asked. “Why does she, when she is so clearly undeserving of their devotion, seem to have it unconditionally while they cannot even be bothered to be outwardly kind to you?”

“It isn’t devotion… it’s a habit from when we were small. Anything granted to me that looked like affection or praise resulted in terrible temper tantrums from Coraline. So eventually, to keep the peace, my parents simply stopped showing any outward sign of approval for me while lavishing it on her. It’s not really a reflection of their feelings. Or it wasn’t always. Perhaps their attempts to alter Coraline’s perception have actually altered their reality. I can no longer be certain.”

“It does them no credit.” They infuriated him. It wasn’t simply that he had chosen to wed her. It wasn’t even some sort of gentlemanly honor that demanded he defend a lady in the face of such an egregious wrong. It was the complete injustice of it. He’d never been one to tolerate such a thing. Being a younger son, perhaps he was more keenly aware of it than others of his current standing. For his part, he hoped that never changed. Growing blind to injustice, to his mind, was tantamount to permitting it or engaging in it oneself.

“Perhaps not,” she agreed softly. “But it does you a great deal of credit, in my book at any rate, to have seen it so clearly. For the longest time, I was made to feel as if I were imagining it all… as if I were somehow the source of the problem rather than the one wronged by it.”

He didn’t reply. The church doors opened and a group of people entered. No doubt there for a quick wedding service just as they had been. “We should go. The others will be waiting to wish us well… perhaps. Or simply wishing to see the backs of us for good.”

She rose, clutching the back of the pew before her to steady herself in the event she should falter. When it seemed she was on sure footing, she let go and smoothed her skirts in what appeared to be a nervous habit. “I am sad to say that I cannot be certain which is accurate.”

It simply didn’t matter, he realized. From that point forward, they would have as much or as little to do with her family as she chose. He would leave that to her. Having lost most of his own family, he certainly would not attempt to inhibit her relationship with them, even if he questioned the soundness of the choice.

Together, they exited the church, her hand on his arm. The witnesses, his man of affairs and the man’s wife, were all smiles and well wishes. Madeline’s parents, however, appeared impatient and bored with it all.

“Finally,” her father huffed out a breath. “I was beginning to wonder if this groom hadn’t abandoned you, too!”

Her mother smiled uncomfortably, clearly embarrassed by her husband’s words. But she didn’t reprove him for them. Instead, she added, “You did take an awfully long time. Was there a problem?”

“No problems,” Oliver answered for his bride. “We were simply savoring the moment. It isn’t every day that one gets to marry such a remarkable woman, now is it?”

His mother-in-law tittered somewhat nervously, as if realizing that they’d somehow been offensive though she couldn’t quite seem to understand why. “Our dear Madeline has been called many things. Remarkable has not typically been one of them.”

“Then it is a shame she has been in such undiscerning company,” Oliver replied flatly. “With the excitement of the day, I think we shall retreat to Easton House immediately. I certainly hate to put a damper on any festivities you might have planned to honor your daughter, but this has been very sudden and there is much yet to do.” The world did not need to know, after all, that her parents cared so little they hadn’t even bothered to host a small wedding breakfast.

“It’s just as well,” her father replied. “Coraline is at the house. Like two spitting cats.”

Oliver said nothing further. It was like talking to a wall, honestly. Her parents refused to see that their behavior was wrong, that anything they did was not entirely justified. It made his head spin just to have a conversation with them.

His coachman, having seen them exit the church, had already brought the vehicle around. The landau was old but well-maintained and polished to a high shine. Helping Madeline to step up into it, he followed suit and they drove away without any further exchange with her parents.

“I want to throttle them,” he muttered.

“It goes away in time,” she replied. “Eventually, you stop expecting them to behave or speak rationally and then it’s ever so much easier to deal with it all.”

“Is that meant to be cheering?” Oliver asked incredulously.

“Well, no… maybe. I’m not entirely certain.”