Chapter 19
Nineteen
K it felt a deep sense of dread from the moment he stepped down from Lord Russell’s carriage and approached the church door.
There were too many people in the church.
Too many people had stayed in London and filed into the stuffy pews to witness his and Dev’s marriage.
It could only mean that word of something aberrant had made its way around London and people were attending what should have been a blessed event for the sole purpose of watching his humiliation.
That sense of dread expanded to fill every part of Kit as he walked up the aisle to stand by Dev’s side, conscious of the fading bruises on his face that were concealed with powder.
It did not matter how lovely his gown was, how excited and supportive Georgiana and Alice were, or how Lady Everly had swooped in like a protective falcon to guard him.
It did not even matter that Dev’s family, whom he suspected knew the truth, had stood by his side every step of the way so far.
Doubt about what he was doing and who he was still had Kit in its grip, and the vicious look on the vicar’s face as Kit came to stand by Dev’s side and to take his hand was as good as a signature on a death warrant.
And then came the moment Kit had been waiting for with macabre anticipation for weeks.
“I cannot perform this marriage because it is an abomination. It has been brought to my attention that Miss Kitty Dryden is, in fact, a man.”
As expected, the congregants watching the ceremony as if it were a theatrical event gasped and broke into murmuring.
Kit squeezed his eyes shut and willed the entire world to go away, or for him to sink through the floor into the grave he knew he was waiting for him to put him out of his misery.
He knew he should never have dreamed, never have hoped that he could live the life he felt meant for.
It would have been better if his father had succeeded in his attempts to eliminate him.
Kit was shaken out of his misery by Lord Russell booming, “I beg your pardon?”
Kit opened his eyes to the unimaginable sight of Dev’s father stepping forward to glare at the vicar.
The vicar seemed surprised that Lord Russell would speak up at all.
“I believe you heard me, my lord,” the man said, bobbing slightly, as if caught between his deference to a nobleman and his assumed superiority as a man of the cloth.
“To perform this union would be an abomination. Miss Kitty Dryden is a man.”
“How dare you?” Lord Russell boomed even as another round of gasps and whispers rose up from the congregation, as if they hadn’t believed their ears the first time they’d heard the accusation. “How dare you insult this fine and gentle lady with such slander?”
For the first time, the vicar looked uncertain. “I…I was given to understand, by a reliable source, mind you, that this pe rson purporting to be Miss Kitty Dryden is, in fact, a certain gentleman.”
Kit’s stomach twisted and fluttered all over again. His father. It had to be. His father must have met with the vicar and accused him of being the Earl of Castleton. That was why he had not approached Kit sooner. His father had planned this very moment as a means of humiliation and revenge.
“She is no such thing,” Lord Russell said.
He glanced briefly to Kit with a look of such fierce protectiveness that Kit burst into tears.
Tears had become his unfortunate lot in life, and every time, they made him feel wretched.
They would likely wash away the cosmetics concealing the remains of his father’s abuse.
It was shameful, but there was also a chance his show of emotion would go farther to convince the vicar he was wrong.
“Miss Dryden is the loveliest, sweetest woman that I have ever had the pleasure of welcoming into my household.” He stared hard at the vicar as he spoke.
The vicar shuffled and wrung his hands and looked even more confused.
“I was told by the father of the gentleman in question himself,” the vicar said, lowering his voice as if he did not want the congregation to hear.
Although with the acoustics of the church the way they were, even a whisper could be heard.
“He came to me last night and explained all. His son was not beset by thieves, murdered, and disposed of. He is an abomination who is masquerading as a woman.”
“Would you care to say those words to my face?” Lady Russell said, standing up and joining Kit, Dev, and the rest of them on the chancel.
The vicar blanched at Lady Russell’s approach. “My lady,” he said, executing another awkward, bobbing bow. “I would not sully your ears by discussing such things in your presence. ”
“I believe you mean that you would not betray your position as a man of the cloth by lying to my face and slandering a woman who will soon be my daughter-in-law,” Lady Russell said, holding her head high.
“Your ladyship,” the vicar began.
“I have assisted Miss Dryden with her wardrobe, sir,” Lady Russell snapped. “I would know if this horrific accusation you are making were true.”
Kit’s tears increased, and he had to fight with everything he had not to sob out loud or allow his knees to give way and sink to the floor.
Never in his entire life had he known such kindness from a family.
The Ogilvy family put his own to shame with their show of loyalty and love.
Feeling that love in such a way was as if Kit had finally, after five-and-twenty years, learned what love was.
“I…I cannot solely take your word in this matter, my lady,” the vicar stammered, looking anxiously at Lord Russell as well. “The man who revealed all to me is a highly regarded personage.”
“A duke, I would wager,” Dev spoke up, sliding an arm around Kit’s waist to support him. “A duke who has reason to wish to ruin me due to a personal matter.”
Kit let out a heavy breath, glancing up at Dev. If ever there were a way to counteract the word of a duke it was by bringing the man’s motivations into question.
The vicar must have felt it as well. “I cannot risk the desecration of my office and this church by even entertaining the idea of going against God’s will,” he said.
“God’s will is love,” Lady Russell insisted. “There is nothing abominable in uniting two people in love.”
Kit’s tears continued to flow, but he worried Lady Russell’s comment was too much.
The vicar sighed and sagged, pressing his fingertips to his forehead .
A moment later, he jerked straight again, as if inspired. “I will consent to performing this marriage if Miss Dryden is examined by a physician to ascertain the truth of her person.”
The congregation hummed at the unusual declaration. Kit turned his face toward Dev and sank against his shoulder. A doctor would discover the truth. Everything would be over. He would likely be sent to Bedlam or worse.
Everything seemed decided against him when a gentleman in one of the front pews stood and turned to the congregation, asking, “Is there, by any chance, a physician present who might examine the bride?”
The question itself was enough to spark more gasps and a few looks of outrage from other ladies in the pews.
“That is an outrageous request,” Lady Everly said, standing with her fists clenched at her sides. “What kind of churchman would subject a terrified bride to an examination by a physician on her wedding day?”
No sooner had she finished her protest when a man stood near the back of the church, hand raised, and said, “I am a physician.”
Kit squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then glanced up at Dev. “I am sorry,” he whispered. “It was never my intention to bring ruin on you this way.”
“My darling,” Dev said, shifting to face him and take Kit’s face in his hands. “You could never ruin me. I love you too much.” He wiped Kit’s tears with his thumbs.
That only caused Kit to cry more. He was certain he looked a fright, between his tears and fading bruises, which, again, might have helped his cause as society widely regarded women as the only ones who wept out their emotions, as he turned to face the approaching physician.
“If you will come with me to the vestry, Miss Dryden,” the physician said, bowing to Kit and Dev. He was a youngish sort of man and handsome with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“I will not allow her to be violated,” Dev said, holding Kit close.
“I will not allow you to manhandle my friend and charge,” Lady Everly said, stepping up onto the chancel.
“I…I suppose it would be wise to have witnesses,” the physician said, glancing to the vicar and raising his eyebrows in question.
“Yes,” the vicar said. “Witnesses.”
Kit did not think his humiliation could be greater. But then the physician turned to the congregation and asked, “Is there a disinterested gentleman who could serve as a witness as well?”
The first sign Kit had that all was not as it seemed was when Mr. Wilkes spoke up from the back of the church with lightning speed and said, “I will serve as a witness.” He started forward to the front of the church before the physician could even call upon him or thank him.
More than that, when Wilkes reached the chancel with the rest of them, he sent Kit a reassuring look.
Something was definitely afoot. As their too-large party moved from the chancel into the vestry, Kit did not know whether to dread what was about to happen or to welcome it.
The vestry was a tight fit for all the people who filled it.
Dev stayed close to Kit’s side, eyeing the physician suspiciously.
Lady Everly rushed forward to take Kit’s hand and to help lead her to a chair in the corner where she could sit.
Wilkes stayed near the door, and when the vicar tried to join them in the room, he blocked the way.
“Reverend, I am certain you can understand the fear and embarrassment of Miss Dryden at having so many men present in such a delicate circumstance,” he said .