Chapter 9 #3
The duchess had commiserated over the complexity of the situation, pointing out that she understood the troubles that a father could visit upon his daughter.
Aidan had not known that she had had a troubled relationship with the late baron, but he was aware that Brendan Ridley and the late Lord Filminster had been estranged.
The news sheets had reported the scandal with relish.
There had been a lengthy discussion with all parties present at Ridley House, where the murder had taken place a month before.
The somber setting had offered a rather grisly reminder of why Aidan was in this strange position to begin with, straddling the line between loyalty and suspicion, affection and obligation.
Nevertheless, as he gazed down at Gwen in her soft blue-green dress—modest and elegant, with tiny pearl buttons at the wrists and lace detailing at the collar—he could not bring himself to regret this wedding.
She had accepted him with quiet strength, and he could only be thankful that Lord Trafford was not in attendance to remind him of his shortcomings or to forewarn of the future strife that would surely arise if Smythe turned out to be the culprit.
Today was a complicated union of interests, but at this moment, Aidan was mostly anxious about what would happen this evening when he joined his bride in the marriage bed. In the house of a man who might be a murderer.
Frederick Smythe was clearly exuberant about the connections who had visited his home this morning, grinning and rubbing his hands together in greedy, childlike joy.
Aidan supposed any man would be overjoyed to scale the ladder of high society so abruptly, but there was an element of naked ambition to Smythe’s behavior that was difficult to stomach.
The man’s delight was too unchecked, too eager, as if he viewed his daughter not as a treasure, but as a coin well spent.
Unfortunately, despite Aidan watching Smythe closely during the introductions, the man had displayed no telling reaction to meeting Lily and Filminster, which Aidan had hoped he might, given the circumstances. His composure had been infuriatingly bland.
“Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony?
Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live? ” intoned the vicar.
On the one hand, Aidan wished they could resolve the murder in order to ensure Lily’s safety.
On the other hand, it was with a sense of dread that he considered informing Gwen of such terrible news.
It was obvious she was close to her father.
He imagined if he were to discover that his own father had murdered a man …
such a revelation would be utterly devastating.
All he could do was resolve to remain at her side and be a good husband and partner, no matter what might come to light.
“I will,” Aidan stated, his voice firm and confident, echoing with the certainty of his vow.
And then, he could no longer think about the future, for it had quietly arrived and stood hand in hand with him.
His thoughts, unbidden, drifted to this very night, not with fear, but with the awe of what lay ahead.
A shared life, a shared bed, a bond that would grow more intimate with each passing day.
“Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him and serve him, love, honor, and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”
He watched Gwen, who hesitated for the briefest moment, then responded in a shy voice, “I will.”
Aidan was captivated by her radiance in the morning light streaming through the great fan-arched windows.
Her golden-red lashes cast delicate shadows upon her cheeks, and he prayed in silence that Trafford would uncover a different suspect.
If the worst were true, the blow would surely fracture her. He wished to spare her that pain.
He wanted his bride to experience a long and happy life, to know joy without fear or shadow.
But as his eyes flickered over to Frederick Smythe, he could not help but notice the almost ravenous gleam in the man’s eye.
Smythe’s delight at forming ties with nobility bordered on the unseemly.
It lent credence to the suspicion that desperation might have driven him to dark choices, especially if the baron had posed a threat to his aspirations.
The vicar at length concluded the service. When it was over, Gwen looked up at Aidan, her blue eyes aglow like twin lanterns on a misty night. He smiled down at her. “We are wed.”
She swallowed hard, her lips parting slightly as she whispered, “We are wed.”
Her words, so simple yet profound, landed within him like a seal pressed into warm wax.
Aidan’s thoughts returned once more to their wedding night, not with impatience, but with a deep and solemn curiosity.
He was no longer a bachelor, but a husband.
Would she be shy? Would she feel safe with him? He ached to be worthy of her trust.
They linked arms, and together led the wedding party from the drawing room toward the wedding breakfast, their footsteps quiet, but full of the tremulous hope of something just begun.
Gwen picked at her breakfast, scarcely able to believe that she was finally married.
Tonight, her groom would come to her chamber, and they would begin their quest for children, a thought that sent a shiver of delight and apprehension down her spine.
She pressed her fingers lightly to the rim of her teacup, trying to anchor herself in the moment.
Aidan was resplendent. Tall, confident, and youthful, he laughed as he debated with his sister on his other side, the sunlight catching the burnished waves of his hair. There was something steadying in his presence, a quiet confidence that had soothed her these past days.
You barely know him.
The whisper of her consciousness was an unwelcome disquiet, threading through the peace she strove to maintain.
I will learn about him, the braver part of her replied, swift and sure.
You do not know what kind of husband he will be. What if he is cruel?
She shut her eyes for a brief second, attempting to quell the wave of unease washing over her.
She was simply nervous, was she not? It was only natural.
Aidan had proved himself a thoughtful suitor, generous in manner and considerate in speech.
If he bore any hidden motives, surely he would not have agreed to dwell in her father’s household where every glance might be observed by her parent.
His family had greeted her with warmth, their regard sincere.
Even Lord Saunton, whose reputation lingered on the edges of scandal, had treated her with kindness.
“Are you done eating?” A childish voice interrupted her thoughts.
Gwen looked up to find little Ethan gazing at her with large hopeful eyes from a few seats down the table. His hair curled at the nape of his neck, and his expression was so earnest it tugged at something deep within her.
Lady Saunton smiled at Gwen in apology. “Hush, Ethan. Allow Lady Abbott to finish her meal in peace. She will not forget her promise to play.”
“Why do I call him Cousin Aidan, but I must call her Lady Abbott?” Ethan pointed a diminutive finger at Gwen and her groom, the question delivered with guileless candor.
“It is up to Lady Abbott to decide how she wishes to be addressed. We only just met her this morning.”
Gwen laughed. The lad was lively and charming, not at all what she had expected when Octavia had explained the Sauntons’ situation. “Cousin Gwen would be acceptable to me,” she offered warmly.
Ethan beamed. “Are you finished eating yet, Cousin Gwen?”
She looked down at her plate and determined that her appetite had made a quiet exit. “Shall we play in the library?”
Ethan clapped his hands in delight. “Yes!”
He scrambled out of his chair, running around the table to wait for Gwen with the exuberance only a child could muster.
Aidan leaned closer, speaking in a low voice near her ear. “You are part of the family now. Ethan will expect a game in all future encounters.”
His voice curled through her, warm and steady, like the brush of velvet gloves across her skin. Gwen nodded, acknowledging both the words and the quiet thrill they brought. “I do not mind.”
Once she had risen, she took hold of Ethan’s tiny hand, and together, they walked to the library, his fingers tucked trustingly into her palm.
Gwen contemplated what it would be like to have a little one of her own to care for, so lively and bright, and then realized in mild disbelief that it had become a genuine possibility.
Huzzah! I am married!
The thought rang in her chest with soft wonder.
Several hours later, their party of guests began to depart.
Gwen and Aidan stood with her father in the front hall, bidding them farewell as the carriages rolled away from the house.
His sister and her husband were the last to leave, Lily chattering in a nervous manner before embracing Gwen with an awkward sincerity that Gwen found endearing.
Once the door closed, the three of them stood in silence until her father announced that he would be in his study and excused himself, leaving them alone.
Gwen remained motionless, watching Aidan with pensive anticipation. Would he kiss her now that they were alone? Would he draw near and claim this new bond between them?
Aidan blew out a breath, then turned to smile at her, though it seemed somewhat uncertain around the edges. “I … have a meeting at my club … and I shall return later.”