Chapter Twelve
Love could do anything.
Mirabel’s declaration challenged Thea. It reverberated in her mind as she dressed and prepared to wed Neal.
The ceremony took place in an ancient chapel on the abbey’s estate as close to noon as possible. The Reverend Mr. Wells could not arrive sooner.
Thea had spent the night in her bed alone.
She had not known where Neal had been. After insisting that they marry with all haste, he’d disappeared up to his room.
Of course, Mirabel had kept Thea so busy with arrangements for the ceremony that she’d not had time to worry and had fallen asleep, exhausted—but at peace with the decision.
The chapel had been rebuilt centuries before with small windows, so that it could be dark and confining, especially on an overcast morning such as this one.
Mirabel had seen to it that lit candles lined the stone altar and filled the tables along the walls, so that the room glowed with warm, flickering light.
Theirs was a small gathering. Mirabel and her servants served as witnesses.
Neal looked inordinately handsome in black formal dress.
Thea wore a gown of the finest muslin in a pale shade of yellow that she had borrowed from Mirabel’s closet.
Her hair had been fashioned on top of her head instead of her customary knot at the base of her neck.
Mirabel had wanted to loan Thea her diamond pins.
Thea had politely refused and instead had fashioned a tiara of roses from the bush by the estate’s gardens.
Now, as she stood before Reverend Wells, a rather portly man with tufts of hair over his ears, spectacles on his nose, and a strong sense of how important this particular marriage would be in London, Thea pledged her troth to Neal.
She spoke the words of the Book of Common Prayer, repeating after Reverend Wells, but the whole time Neal did not look at her.
His stubbornness angered her. He made his vows but did so with the joy of a man facing the gallows. When Mr. Wells announced they were man and wife and could seal their vows with a kiss, Neal barely let his lips touch hers.
And then they were in the dining room, just the reverend, Mirabel, and themselves for the wedding meal.
Neal seemed to relax. He was charming, thoughtful, entertaining, but distant to Thea.
At last she could take his bewildering behavior no longer.
“Reverend Wells, does the church still perform exorcisms?” she asked.
Now she had Lyon’s attention.
The good reverend apparently dearly adored having his opinion requested on ecclesiastical matters.
He pushed up his spectacles in a scholarly fashion and launched into his esteemed opinion.
“The church has a rite, but it is not called upon often. I have not been a party to any, and I daresay the bishop hasn’t either, although the devil is amongst us. ”
For a second, the air in the room seemed to shift as if clouds had covered the sun, blocking its rays from the window before drifting away . . . except this day was not a sunny day.
Or was she being unusually fanciful? “How would one remove the devil?” Thea pressed on.
“Is this really a good conversation for a wedding feast?” Lyon said quietly.
“Of course it is, my lord,” Thea answered. Superstition aside, she had his attention now, and she was going to keep it. “Please, Reverend, continue.”
The clergyman removed his glasses and rubbed his nose before saying, “Historically church leaders have wanted us to believe the devil is a supernatural being. Something separate and apart from us. However, I hold to the more modern understanding that the devil is really the evil inside all of us. We make our own ‘devil.’ Take Bonaparte. He has been the mastermind behind a monstrous evil that has toppled governments and cost countless lives. Does that make him a devil? Only God knows. But in my humble opinion, I believe him to be one.”
Thea was not interested in Napoleon. “What of curses, Mr. Wells. Can the church remove curses?”
His response was to burst out in laughter.
“Curses? Why would we remove curses? The idea of a curse is an antiquated notion. It is the device of the uneducated mind. We now know someone can’t put an evil eye out on another person with just a few words of mumbo jumbo.
So there is no need of the church to provide protection.
Tell me, are you afraid of curses, Lady Lyon? ”
Thea shrugged. “I am merely curious.” Mirabel had a very pained expression on her face. She was not pleased with Thea’s line of questions. Thea dared not look to Neal, but she hoped she had made her point.
Mirabel cleared her throat and changed the topic. “Would you like more port, Reverend?”
“Oh, no, I must be on my way. Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Palmer.” He rose from the table, Neal rising with him. “And my heartiest congratulations to both you and your lady, Lord Lyon. It has been an honor.”
“Thank you,” Neal said. “Let me see you to the door.”
The second the men left the room, Mirabel waved the servants from the room before leaning across the table. “Are you mad?” she demanded of Thea.
“No, determined.”
“This is your wedding night, and if you want to spend it battling your husband, you are a fool.”
“I’m making a point.”
“A point that will make your husband look like a fool! Oh, that is so much better.”
“Mirabel—,” Thea started, ready to explain herself, but then Neal appeared at the doorway.
He did not look pleased.
“—that was a delicious meal,” Thea heard herself finish lamely. “The quail was quite succulent.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Mirabel responded, her jaw tight.
She was truly displeased with Thea. She rose.
“I believe the time has come for me to excuse myself. Many happinesses to you both.” She started for the door but paused in front of Neal.
“And, Lyon, please be good to my friend. She’s headstrong and foolish but a wonderful woman.
She’ll make you a good wife once you find your way past all the armor she wears to protect her emotions. ”
Mirabel directed that last comment to Thea, and with those words, she left the room.
Thea didn’t think she’d ever been so insulted. She sat, her gaze in front of her, waiting for Lyon to chime in with his unhappiness with her as well.
He walked into the room, his footsteps barely a sound on the carpet, but she could feel him draw close.
Lyon took the chair next to hers, turning it out so that he could sit seeing her face. He didn’t speak. Not immediately.
Osgood came by the door to check on the room, saw them, and beat a hasty retreat. Neither Thea nor Lyon moved.
She was determined to let him be the first to speak. Perhaps bringing up exorcisms and curses at the table had not been wifely, but Neal needed to hear someone else’s opinion besides her own.
The minutes stretched long between them, and then, finally, she could take it no longer.
“You are too intelligent to let your life be ruled by superstition,” she announced.
He regarded her with a solemn face. Even angry with him, she couldn’t help but marvel at how handsome he was. He had a sensual mouth, a lean, strong jaw. They were so close that she could see the line of his whiskers and smell the scent of sandalwood off his skin.
“I shouldn’t have broached the topic,” Thea said.
He shook his head, gave a small shrug.
“I was worried when you were gone all day.”
“I had to think.”
Here was the conversation she wanted, and yet she was afraid of it as well. “What did you decide? That you must marry me?” She heard bitterness in her voice.
He reached out and ran his fingers along the length of her arm. Where he touched, her skin tightened with expectation. “I thought that you may be right. Perhaps I shouldn’t live my life afraid of a curse.” He raised his gaze to meet hers.
Her heart leaped at his words. “I wasn’t mocking you with my questions of Reverend Wells,” she said. “I would never do that, Neal.” I love you.
“Don’t care deeply for me, Thea,” he said, as if she’d spoken aloud. “Protect yourself.”
“Does that mean you will walk out on me again?” she asked, a knot forming in her throat. “Or is this curse—?”
She stopped, struck by a sudden realization. “Wait,” she said before adding thoughtfully, “the curse no longer matters. Not to me.” She met his eye, her mind so clear that it startled her. “All I want to do is love you.”
There, she’d said it.
A second ago, such a declaration had been impossible to make, and yet here she’d spoken straight from her heart. No armor; just love.
Her words hovered in the air between them. She could picture them, bright and shining and true. A joy, a freedom she’d not known existed, filled her.
“I love you,” she repeated. “I think I’ve always loved you, even when I didn’t realize I loved you.
You caution me against feeling deeply for you, but it is too late, Neal.
I believe you are the finest man of my acquaintance.
While others are wrapped in their petty concerns of status and self-importance, you have tried to do what is right. ”
“I’m as petty as the next man.”
She shook her head, almost overcome with this insight, this depth, this honesty of her feelings.
“No, you truly are special, and if it is a curse that has caused you to think of your legacy, well, so be it. All I want to do is love you. I want a life with you and with my sons. I am all for building a fortress around us to keep away evil spirits and witches and trolls, whatever threatens us. But the one thing I don’t want to avoid is love.
I tried that, Neal. For the last five years of my life, I’ve run from love, but not any longer. I love you.”
“Thea—,” he started as if to defend himself once again, but she stopped his words by placing her fingers over his lips.