Chapter Thirty-Two
Seth swore he would never see anything more beautiful than Cassandra walking down the aisle.
Her curls flowed like water over a white lace and cream silk dress, tied at the waist by a blue satin sash.
Love shone in her eyes, and a sureness had sung in her voice when she vowed herself to him.
And then, he thought nothing would ever compare to her beauty in her wedding gown with his ring on her left hand, an oval-cut sapphire on a gold band.
Compliments rolled off his tongue before they finished forming in his mind, and his chest tightened whenever she smiled.
Seth’s idea of a ‘small wedding brunch’ differed from Lady Dorchester’s by two hundred people.
In a strategic move, Lord Bolderwood invited the upper echelons of military leadership and influential society members to their wedding.
Attendees were brave enough to not fear scandal, curiously anticipated it, or were too afraid of Lady Dorchester to decline her invitation.
Preening through the ballroom, Seth exchanged pleasantries with each of them and thanked them for their attendance.
All the while, he kept Cassandra on his arm and introduced her as Mrs. Cassandra Reeves.
His wife.
Diplomatic and proud, born for this world, she expertly navigated small talk.
Trained for society and politics, but unaccustomed to its strain, her smile took more effort as the afternoon waned.
The wedding had transpired without incident.
Adrian favored deterrence over discretion and stationed the entire police force outside of the cathedral.
For once, Seth found himself grateful for the Hollingsworth iron-fist and the umbrella of safety it now held over Cassandra.
Even knowing that all was well, Seth maintained vigilance. Hyper-focused on those around him, he scanned the room, searching stranger’s eyes for any hint of a threat. Through the French doors that led from the ballroom, he caught sight of Mr. Nott in the backyard, smoking a cigar.
“I’ll be right back,” Seth whispered into his wife’s ear. “I need to speak to someone.”
“Right now?” She gave a pout of protest as he transferred her to Lady Dorchester’s arm and into a circle with Lady Penrose, Mrs. Davenport, Lady Samantha, and Miss Georgiana.
Cassandra glared at him for his betrayal, and he gave her a sheepish grin.
She would forgive him when he found the owner of the pistol that shot him.
Seth politely nodded to guests as he weaved through them, exiting to the backyard at the same time Mr. Nott finished his cigar. The cloying smell of burnt tobacco lingered in the air.
“Congratulations on your marriage, Mr. Reeves,” Mr. Nott greeted him.
“Congratulations to you as well, for winning the contest.”
“It came as a complete surprise,” Mr. Nott said.
“During that last competition I could have sworn that I hit one less target than Colonel Bishop. He had been sure of it too.” He gave a hearty chuckle.
“Once the points were tallied each judge voted in my favor by one point. Though I regret that I couldn’t compete fairly against you, I am pleased that my craftsmen are eating well.
The prize was split evenly amongst the contributors, a nice Christmas bonus for all. ”
“May I ask, how many gunsmiths do you employ?”
“Fifty-two, but I’m always on the hunt for more.” Mr. Nott smiled. “I understand that you have an arrangement with Lord Bolderwood, but should you ever find your way out of it, I would be pleased to offer you employment.”
“As flattered as I am, I’ll have to decline.
The reason that I ask, is because I’m looking for the manufacturer of this pistol.
” Seth pulled a piece of folded parchment from his coat pocket.
“I’m sure it’s a far-fetched request, but could you show this to your associates? I need the name on the commission.”
“It will be a challenge.” Mr. Nott took the sketch and glanced over it. Careful not to smudge the graphite, he pointed at a design on the barrel. “Hm… this might be Robert Perkin’s work. Another newlywed, he’s currently on holiday. I’ll ask around and see what I can find. May I take this?”
“By all means. I’ll draft another.”
“Such detail, and all from memory.” Mr. Nott whistled. “I’ll get back to you on the sketch.”
Mr. Nott excused himself and walked into the house.
Alone for the first time in hours, Seth breathed in the fresh air and felt the sun on his face in this square of nature fenced in by brick walls. He closed his eyes and took in a moment of peace before returning to the party.
Cooper stood in the doorway, matching him in a black tailcoat and white cravat. He held a crystal snifter filled with an amber liquid. He raised the glass to him in a toast, then took a sip. Spicy undertones of brandy spiked the air with his exhale, mixing with the fading scent of cigar smoke.
“I’d offer you some spirits, but the last time I did that it cost me ten thousand pounds, so you’ll understand if I imbibe on your behalf.”
“I’m thinking of swearing it off altogether,” Seth said.
“Not me. All of my best ideas come to me after a glass or two.”
“Or four,” Seth murmured.
“The thought ‘you know what we haven’t tried? Galileoing a rifle’ would never have come to me whilst sober.”
“Because sober men don’t use ‘Galileo’ as an action.” Seth raised a brow and gestured to the brandy. “How many of those have you had?”
“One or two.” Cooper grinned. “I take some joy that you’re stuck in society now, knowing how much you’ll hate it. Consider this your penance. Making your bed and lying in it, and such. Had you done things the proper way you could have avoided this, had a nice country wedding instead.”
“I can’t say that I regret anything.” Seth smiled as he watched Cassandra through the open door. “Results over means, right?”
“From here on out, we aren’t going to talk about the means that you got your result from, when my sister was both.”
Seth smirked. “Understood.”
“Though, to be fair. I suppose I’m also to blame for how things turned out.” Cooper gave a dramatic sigh. “I should have spoken to the housekeeper.”
Seth frowned. “What housekeeper?”
Cooper pursed his mouth to the side and raised his eyes to the sky.
“Lord Bolderwood’s.”
Pausing, Seth considered his words.
“You mean Margaret?”
“Was that her name?”
A clinking of flatware and the low buzz of conversation drifted from the dining room in the silence between them.
“You never spoke to Margaret?”
Realization hit him harder than Cooper had in Hampshire when Cooper shrugged and gave his trademark grin. Seth could have throttled him. Looking back, he saw the strings that tied him to his new wife. It wasn’t Cassandra that trapped him.
It was Cooper.
Seth’s jaw dropped.
“You lied to me.”
Cooper arched a brow. “Oh, are we counting lies now?”
“You put Cassandra in the room next to me!”
“No, Lady Jasmine did,” Cooper corrected. “It was a genuine mix-up. I was supposed to be in that room, which I thought was obvious. I didn’t put Cassandra there.” His eyes shifted away. “I just didn’t… move her.”
“You broke your promise to her on the first day. You interfered at every turn!” Words quickening, Seth counted on his fingers.
“You told me to waltz with her, you overlooked the library, then you sent her on the hunt, where you saw me kiss her and you said nothing.” Seth jabbed a finger at him.
“And you sent me to get her from that tree!”
Cooper nodded at each accusation and took another sip of his brandy.
“Why?”
“She wasn’t going to make it down on her own,” Cooper said flippantly.
“Not only the tree,” Seth grit out. “You threw her at me.”
“Threw her?” Cooper’s voice pitched with indignation. “No, no, no, I thought you needed a push. How was I to know you’d sprint all the way to the finish line? As for the why, I broke my promise to Cassandra because I made a previous promise that conflicted with it.”
“And that was…?”
“To see her happily married.” With a proud smile, Cooper extended his hand. “You have my blessing, Reeves, and you would have had our father’s. Take care of Cassandra.”
“I will,” he promised, taking Cooper’s hand in a firm grip. Returning Cooper’s grin, they stepped from each other. “That was easier than I expected.”
“What can I say?” Cooper laughed. “I had low standards from the start.”
Inside, Cassandra conversed with Lady Jasmine and Lord Bolderwood.
A foreign kindness and a soft-brow graced the old man’s normally hard features as he spoke to the women.
Feeling their gazes, Jasmine turned to them.
With a grin, she tugged at Cassandra’s arm and pointed through the door.
Cassandra winked at him and gave a small wave before returning her gaze to Lord Bolderwood.
His magnificent wife. Seth wanted to make all of her dreams come true, and the one they shared was to have a house full of children, as many as she would give him.
London was no place to raise a family the way they wanted.
They would need a country home, a sizable one, and after scouring maps and considering locations, there was only one place he had in mind.
“Cooper?”
“Hm?”
“Remember after the hunt, when you said that I could have anything for saving Cassandra’s life?”
“Yes,” Cooper said warily, eyes narrowing. “That was your cue to ask for her hand.”
“Since we’re past that, I have another request.” Seth darted his eyes to the house. Confident that Cassandra’s attention was elsewhere, he continued, “Instead of her dowry, I would like something else.”
Cooper finished his brandy in one swig.
“I’m listening.”