Chapter Twenty
Bonham and Suzanna had married two days before them, and Berry had to admit to being envious. Suzanna could now share a bed with Bonham, and appeared to enjoy this very much. So did he. The two could not stop grinning at each other and whispering sweet nothings in each other’s ear.
This was what Berry ached to have with Gideon.
It was only another hour until the ceremony, and then she and Gideon would be husband and wife. They would belong to each other.
She had to stop being so sentimental about this, but it was overwhelming and wonderful. They had been two souls alone throughout their lives.
Now they would be two souls together.
Harriet assisted in styling her hair while her friends, the ladies of Duchess Square, looked on. They were going to ride over to St. Mary’s in a row of carriages. She was to ride with Miranda and Gwenys while Gwendolyn, Suzanna, and Bonham followed in Gwendolyn’s stylish barouche.
Gideon had wanted to pick her up in his carriage, but Lord and Lady Berwick needed a ride, so he agreed to be the one to bring them to the church.
After all, Lord Berwick was essential. He would perform the fatherly duties on Berry’s behalf, the ceremonial gesture of handing her over to the new husband who would now assume the role of protector and provider.
It was only right that he be given the honor after taking care of her for all these years.
Of course, she had more than enough to provide for herself. But protecting herself from all the predatory wolves like Hawthorne had come to be a problem. She still shuddered to think what might have happened had Gideon not found Lord Berwick in time.
She shook out of the thought. This was a happy day.
Her own driver was designated to bring Harriet, Melton, and Mrs. Bolton to the church in her carriage. Unfortunately, Mrs. Garland would not be joining them, for she was too weak to get out of bed.
Once ready, Berry took a moment to stop in Mrs. Garland’s bedchamber to show her the wedding outfit she had chosen.
The gown was silk, of course, and in the palest shade of rose, with a lace overlay at the bodice in the same hue.
“Berry, dear, you look beautiful. Thank you for showing me what you’ve chosen.
I am so sorry I must miss your wedding. But I am not important.
Enjoy your day, and I am sure I will hear all about it from Mrs. Bolton and Harriet when they return. ”
Berry kissed her and then joined her friends downstairs.
Miranda’s was an open carriage, and Berry inhaled the scent of the roses she’d had planted in the little park within their square of elegant townhomes.
The day was already warming, but the sky was a surprisingly vivid blue marked by soft tufts of white clouds floating by.
“And you’ll never guess who paid a call on us yesterday,” Gwenys was telling her, chattering away like a magpie.
Berry tried to follow the conversation even though she was completely distracted. “Um, you had a visitor? Who?”
“Those Scots who danced with Miranda and Gwendolyn at Lord Stanhope’s ball! Can you believe it? Oh, they are so handsome. I wish I had been at the ball. I would have danced with every last one of them. And their accents!”
“It is called a brogue,” Miranda corrected her niece.
Gwenys put a hand over her heart and let out a swooning breath. “Oh, couldn’t you just die to hear them talking? I did.”
Miranda rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Gwenys, you must not encourage those Highlanders. Do you wish to be carried off to the wilds of Scotland? You are not even out yet. Be patient, for your turn will soon come.”
“Maybe yours and Gwendolyn’s, too. Why not? Now that Suzanna and Berry have made love matches for themselves, maybe it is a sign that you shall both do the same. The love gods are shining down on Duchess Square.”
“Nonsense, we are quite content as we are,” Miranda insisted.
Berry said nothing, for she had to agree with Gwenys.
Having found her happiness, she silently wished for love matches for Miranda and Gwendolyn. Miranda had been left a young widow and Gwendolyn had never been married. Miranda’s marriage had not been a happy one. In truth, it had been more of a sad mistake.
Gwendolyn had been betrothed, but the fellow had died before the wedding and she had never truly recovered from the loss, for theirs had been a love match.
Berry now fully understood how devastating a loss it had been for her dear friend. But were not Fiona and Rob, the Duke of Durham, the perfect example of a second chance at love?
She silently wished this for her friends.
It was a short ride to the church, and Gideon was already pacing in front of the massive doors while waiting for her to arrive.
Her heart fluttered upon her seeing him, for he looked so very handsome. Truly, he could be mistaken for an elegant duke.
Or the perfect knight.
He strode over to help Gwenys and Miranda descend, and then wrapped his hands around Berry’s waist to lift her out of the carriage. He kissed her lightly on the lips as he set her down. “You look divine.”
She grinned. “So do you.”
He placed her hand on his arm, and then lovingly wrapped his hand over hers.
“Horace is waiting inside and cannot wait to see what you are wearing. He’s been driving me mad all morning, blathering on and on about your perfect sense of style and how I cannot stand at the altar beside you while looking like a mountain troll. ”
Berry laughed. “Horace and I shall become the best of friends. I suppose we will have to work out the finer details of our dressing arrangements. Much as I enjoy him, he cannot be strolling into our bedchamber while I am dressing, nor can Harriet be in there while you are dressing. But that’s a worry for later, I suppose. ”
“An easy fix to provide each of us a distinct dressing area. We’ll be mostly going our separate ways while attending to our daily duties. But at night, I want you in my arms.”
She nodded, feeling quite the same.
Miranda stuffed a handkerchief in her hand as the guests were about to take their seats in the pews. “I know you, Berry. You are going to cry throughout the ceremony.”
“Nonsense, I shall be fine,” she insisted, and was met by doubtful glances from all around her. “I am not a watering pot.”
Gideon grinned.
Miranda chuckled.
And Berry was glad she had taken her friend’s handkerchief, because her eyes now began to tear as Horace, Pudge, Joss, Henry, and Bonham took seats in the front pew. They were Gideon’s family.
She and Gideon took their positions in front of the altar. More tears welled in her eyes.
“I love you, kitten,” Gideon whispered, and took her hand in his, which was not at all the thing to do. But they had already broken so many ton rules, so who cared if one more was broken?
He did this for her benefit, wanting her to know he would always be there for her. She knew it, and loved having this warrior by her side.
The tears streamed down her cheeks as soon as the vicar uttered the first sentence of the wedding ceremony. They did not stop until she and Gideon exchanged their “I dos” and their friends began cheering upon the vicar’s last words. “I now pronounce you man and wife.”
The vicar may have said something more, but everyone was up and clapping, whistling, and stamping their feet, so no one heard his final remarks.
Indeed, the cheers were resounding. Completely shocking and disorderly. But even the staid Lord Berwick was whistling and clapping. Lady Berwick and their daughters tossed rose petals at Berry and Gideon as they marched down the aisle toward the front doors.
After more rounds of hearty congratulations, everyone rode over to the Denby Arms for the wedding breakfast. This time, Berry rode with Gideon in his carriage while Miranda took Lord and Lady Berwick in hers.
“Alone, at last,” Gideon said with obvious relief, and scooted her onto his lap as they made their way along the bustling London streets. He wrapped his arms around her. “I cannot believe this day has finally arrived. We are husband and wife, Berry.”
“Isn’t it wonderful?”
He nodded.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Care to do something naughty about it?”
He laughed. “Oh, yes.”
His mouth closed over hers with crushing need, and she realized he must have been holding back his ardor all this time. Not that his prior kisses lacked anything. They were all marvelous and had her swooning.
But this was more intimate, his hands roaming freely over her body, claiming possession of her while at the same time showing her that she had possession of his heart.
She probably had possession of his body, too.
For was this not the entire point of a marriage ceremony? To pledge heart and body to each other.
One of his big hands came to rest upon her breast, and he seemed to like its ampleness, because he was suddenly paying extraordinary attention to it.
The light squeeze and gentle flick of his thumb across the bud had her body suddenly in flames.
She arched into him, uncertain what was happening to her, although the way she responded to his touch was very much the way she had when watching him work on his ballroom while shirtless in the heat…
all that glistening skin and those coiled muscles.
Yes, so much heat was flowing through her right now.
She moaned.
“I love the way you fill my hand,” he whispered, then gave a husky, groaning laugh and removed his hand to rest it around her waist instead.
“Why did you stop?”
“We’re almost at our destination. I dared not start something I could not finish in time.” His smile held the promise of pleasures to come tonight.
He made certain their clothes were properly restored before they reached the Denby Arms, although Berry knew her face revealed that they had not been merely holding hands in the carriage.
Well, no matter. Being husband and wife excused their misbehavior.