Chapter Seventeen
“Oh, m’lady.” Miranda’s maid sighed while taking a step back to admire her in her wedding gown. “Ye look a vision in that blue silk. His Grace will not be able to take his eyes off ye.”
Miranda smiled. “It is a pretty gown, isn’t it, Lottie?”
“Ye are the one who is pretty,” the maid insisted. “A gown is just bits of fabric. Here, sit down and let me put the finishing touches to yer hair.”
Miranda sat quietly while Lottie fussed over her with expert care.
Her thoughts drifted back in time to when she was a mere lass of eighteen and about to marry the then Earl of Lowery.
She had never thought of her late husband as spineless, but he probably had been.
How else could an unpleasant woman like Lady Trowbridge get such a hold on him?
Well, it was over fifteen years in the past and all of that awful woman’s plans had blown up in her face because he’d died in their tawdry love nest before they could get their hands on Miranda’s money.
She quietly counted her blessings that he’d made her a widow at the tender age of twenty. Had she been one and twenty, he would have been able to grab her trust funds and then leave her penniless.
But now, she was about to marry a real man. One of honor. One who would be a true husband to her and protect her instead of subjecting her to ridicule.
Gwenys barged in, breathless and excited. “I’m ready. Are you? Oh, don’t you look beautiful!”
“So do you,” Miranda said, approving of the pale-rose silk that brought out the delicate blush of Gwenys’s cheeks. Douglas’s smile would be bright enough to light up the night sky when he caught sight of her.
Yes, that big Scot loved her niece.
They rode to the church, a charming stone structure with beautiful stained glass windows and ivy growing along its walls. Berry and Gideon’s carriage led a procession of three holding them and their Duchess Square neighbors.
Bram and Douglas were waiting by the church’s open doors.
“We’re here,” Gwenys squealed, “and our bridegrooms haven’t run away. They look so handsome, the pair of them. I hope we haven’t kept them waiting too long.”
Douglas’s eyes lit up the moment he spotted Gwenys. He rushed over to assist her down.
What surprised Miranda was the smile on Bram’s face and the tender light in his eyes when his gaze settled on her.
No one had ever looked at her this way before. Was this what was meant when describing the eyes of love?
He marched forward to help her down. “Och, ye’re such a pretty thing.”
Gad, she blushed like a schoolgirl. “Thank you.”
Hugh motioned them all in. “Come on, we’ve got a schedule to keep.”
They had just walked into the church when Gwenys suddenly tore across the pews. “Papa!”
She lunged into Lord Lowery’s open arms, and the two of them hugged with genuine warmth.
Miranda nodded at Bram. “I was not sure about this, but you were right. Having him here is a good idea. He loves Gwenys and she loves him. However, I cannot forgive him for allowing her stepmother to make his daughter’s life a misery.”
“Gwenys seems to have forgiven him,” Bram said. “Let them have their moment, for he isn’t likely to ever have this chance again.”
“You are awfully generous for a kidnapper,” she remarked, gently teasing him.
But this father-and-daughter reunion needed to be, for Gwenys was a sentimental girl and would always treasure this moment.
As the small crowd of guests took their seats, the four of them approached the altar.
The vicar conducting the ceremony married Gwenys and Douglas first, which did not surprise Miranda, since she knew Bram wanted them safely wed the soonest. He wanted that done and out of the way because it would leave him free to worry about their wedding vows.
She noticed the discreet glances he cast her way and knew he was worried she would panic and run off when it came their turn.
But she wasn’t going to run from him, not ever. Yes, she had been stubborn, cowardly, and scared until the Parliament incident. But that had been her sign from above.
He was her salvation.
Then it was their turn to exchange vows.
Bram took hold of her trembling hand, his touch warm and reassuring.
She heard the vicar say her name and begin the recitation of her promises. To love, honor, and obey her husband.
Bram arched an eyebrow and grinned at her.
She smiled back. “I do.”
Then Bram said a solemn “I do” upon recital of his vows.
“Under the eyes of the Lord, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the vicar intoned.
Bram kissed her with tenderness and heat, that heat ensuring everyone understood she was his to love.
Perhaps he only meant to make her understand this.
Her friends and his kinsmen cheered and whistled, completely ignoring the solemnity of the moment. But was this not the best reason to cheer?
She had done it, she realized with pounding heart. All her doubts shed, and she was now free to move forward with confidence because she had gone through with the wedding!
She was Bram’s wife now. His duchess.
The realization lifted her spirits, and she was happier than she had ever been in her life.
But a little scared, too.
Perhaps not every doubt had been overcome, but not about him. She was worried about herself. Would she disappoint him?
No, no! This was a joyful day, and Bram was the right man for her.
He sensed her mounting nerves and drew her aside while everyone circled Douglas and Gwenys to congratulate them. “I have something for ye.” He withdrew a small box tied in a pink silk ribbon and handed it to her. “Open it, love.”
She did, and all her fears melted away.
He’d bought her a silver heart necklace like the one that bounder had torn from her neck. This one was engraved.
I’m glad they brought me the wrong girl. Love, Bram.
She laughed. “Help me put it on.”
This was him. No flowery words. No references to stars or moons or rosebud lips.
The wrong girl.
It was perfect. It was Bram.
“There, love.” He finished clasping it and then gave her a light kiss on the neck that shot flames through her.
Dear heaven. She would be a wild, hot, passionate mess tonight.
“I did not get anything for you.” She silently berated herself for not giving this a single thought.
He shook his head. “Ye gave me yerself, Miranda. It is all I’ll ever want or need. I love ye, lass. Ye’re the best gift I could ever receive.”
Miranda burst into tears. “Oh, now look what you’ve done. You’ve turned me into a watering pot.”
“So long as those ye shed are always happy ones.”
She nodded and laughed as she hurriedly wiped them off her cheeks. “Yes, they are. They always will be.”
It felt as though hardly a minute had passed before the others came out of the church, led by Gwenys and Douglas, who were eager to ride off to their newlywed life in Scotland.
Miranda quickly dried the last of her tears as farewells were said, but found herself crying again as she hugged Gwenys. “I shall miss you, my dearest girl.”
“You had better come up to visit us in the summer,” Gwenys responded, hugging her fiercely.
Miranda suppressed a wince. Although her ribs were fairly well mended, they still had a little more healing to do before they were fully restored.
“Aye, we’ll be up as soon as this session of Parliament has ended,” Bram replied in her stead, no doubt noticing her discomfort that she’d tried to keep well hidden.
Hugh and James stepped forward to address Bram. “Ye chose a fine lass,” Hugh said, giving him a solid pat on the back. “I’ll be a happy man if I find myself a bride half as perfect as yer Miranda.”
“We had better be off now, too.” James took a turn patting Bram on the back.
“We need to get Lord Lowery back home before his wife and her evil colleague are released from the constabulary cell. Montrose will be the one escorting Lowery to his door, since we dare no’ be seen anywhere near their home. ”
Hugh winked at Miranda. “Make sure ye read this morning’s gossip rag.”
She cast him a beaming smile, not a bit remorseful in the knowledge that their headline would be a humiliation for those two spiteful crones. It was the best wedding present these Lanarks could give her. “I will have that edition framed and mounted in a place of honor on my wall.”
The Lanarks rode off with Gwenys’s father. Gwenys was bubbling with happiness, but also making no secret of her remorse in parting from Miranda.
However, Miranda was not going to allow this moment to be sad. Gwenys was about to embark on her new life with Douglas. Miranda knew those two would be happy as larks.
“Oh, I am going to miss you so much, Aunt Miranda,” Gwenys declared.
Miranda gave her another fierce hug before nudging her into Douglas’s waiting carriage. “Off with you now. I’ll see you this summer.”
She and Bram were left with her Duchess Square friends, who were to join them for the wedding breakfast arranged by Berry and Gideon at the Denby Arms. This establishment happened to be one of London’s best hotels and was owned by Gideon and Bonham.
Their dining room was exceptional and renowned for its quality.
Miranda could not wait to taste their wedding meal.
What awaited them was a groaning table replete with silver salvers containing everything from eggs and kippers, to mutton and leeks, roast goose in a plum sauce, and their specialty, a duck cassoulet.
When the meal was over and they had all imbibed too much champagne and inhaled everything on those salvers—including the delicious duck cassoulet, which Miranda decided was the best thing she had ever tasted—they all returned to their respective homes.
She and Bram had agreed her townhouse on Duchess Square would become their London residence, because this charming enclave of beautiful homes was filled with good friends that meant so much to her. And Bram did not wish to take her away from this important source of her happiness.
He presently maintained a London residence larger than her own, only because he wished to accommodate himself and any visiting kinsmen.
Miranda knew he felt a responsibility as duke toward his family, his good friends, and any soldier who had served in his Highlands regiment during the Napoleonic Wars and needed a place of shelter for the night.
But then, this was Bram. Fierce, yet always ready to protect those in need. How could she not love him all the more?
In due course, they would figure out what to do with his townhouse, which he’d let from a friend and was of no particular consequence to him. Perhaps this was why the decision to spend their first night as husband and wife at her home came easily for him.
A first night and forever afterward, for hers would become his home, too.
Miranda’s butler greeted them with a big smile at the door. “Welcome home, Your Graces.”
Miranda turned to stare up at Bram. He winked at her.
Yes, she was now his duchess. It was all beginning to sink in.
“How does it feel?” he asked.
“To be your duchess?”
He nodded. “Aye, lass.”
“So far, so good.” She took his hand and cast him a saucy look as she drew him into the parlor for privacy. “But I’ll let you know for certain tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow?” He quirked an eyebrow, at first confused.
Then he laughed as he understood her meaning.
“Blessed saints! Ye’re going to reserve judgment until after our wedding night?
Och, I’m no gentleman. And be assured, ye dinna want a gentleman in yer bed.
I’ll have ye clutching the headboard and howling with pleasure, lass. Ye needn’t worry about that.”
She looked up at him in playful challenge, her smile broad and full of affection for him. “Oh, really? Do you think you are that good?”
In truth, she knew he was. His body was sinfully appealing, well formed and muscular, especially his arms, which made her melt each time he wrapped her in his embrace.
He regarded her thoughtfully, taking her words seriously when he knew she only meant to tease him. “Aye, if love is a measure, then it will always be good between us. I love ye an awful lot, Miranda.”
She sighed. “I love you too. So very much.”
“I know, lass. And I appreciate how hard it was for ye to ever admit it. In truth, I wasn’t certain ye’d go through with the wedding,” he said, taking her into his arms.
“I’m sorry I gave you cause to doubt,” she said in earnest, wishing she could have been as effervescent and happy-brained as Gwenys. “I’m sorry I handled everything so badly.”
“Dinna apologize to me, love. Ye were suffering. We’ve discussed this already and ye know I was never resentful.
How could I be when ye were in so much pain?
And I dinna mean the physical pain of yer bruised ribs.
” He dipped his head toward hers. “Close yer eyes, for I wish to give ye a sample of what’s to be between us. ”
“Here and now?”
“Why not? Ye’re my wife. Are we no’ entitled to intimate moments?”
She nodded.
He lowered his mouth to hers, claiming her heart that was already his as he kissed her with every inch of his soul.
Oh, dear heaven.
She was never going to let this man out of her bed.