Chapter 4
Sebastian wiped his damp hands on his gray coat before fixing his cravat.
“You’re making it worse.”
He glowered at his valet who stood beside at him the altar, the whistling of the wind keeping them company alongside the sleepy vicar now seated in a chair.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Sebastian reminded him.
That garnered a sly smirk from Tony. He was a scrap of a lad who had been the younger brother of an old friend. When the brother was shipped off for a ridiculous crime, Sebastian had taken in Tony. It turned out the young man at the age of ten-and-seven had a knack for fashion and finery.
But he still has a lip on him I’d like to knock off.
“Where would the fun be? It’s not exactly a festive occasion.” Tony sent a pointed look to the vicar who let out a sudden snore. Neither of them flinched. Sebastian barely suppressed a sigh. “I thought weddings were supposed to be festive?”
“I don’t know.”
“Have you been to one?”
Sebastian frowned before giving a slight nod. “One. Julian’s wedding a few years ago. That was also pretty miserable.”
“Did they have to marry?”
“No. Yes. Not really. But yes.”
It was Tony who let out a sigh now. “You never change. How are you always so cryptic? You have a tongue. Use it.”
“I also have two fists,” Sebastian volunteered. He could probably lift Tony with one hand. The lad hardly met his shoulder and was so slightly built that sometimes Sebastian worried his valet might blow over in a gust of wind.
Not that different to his bride, he recalled faintly, remembering his repeated shock in discovering her willow figure in her dress the morning of the proposal.
That had been two days ago. He had found her in a fine dress but without gloves again.
There was that stubborn look in her eye.
A weathered expression, too, that told him something more was going on.
I suppose I’ll found it eventually once we marry. If we marry.
Unable to resist the urge, he pulled out his pocket watch for the third time to find that only another ninety seconds had passed. Now she would be five minutes late to her wedding.
“I am here.” He fumbled with the watch, making three attempts to tuck it away by the time it worked. Possibly because he was busy looking at her.
Lady Isabel Ravenshaw.
There was that yellow dress again. Maybe it was her favorite. She was hastily brushing out any wrinkles with her maid fluttering around to offer further help. Both of them tugged off their cloaks and had snow in their hair with bright, pink cheeks.
“Terribly sorry about that,” Isabel called with a forced smile as she hastily started to make her way down the aisle. She must have said something to her maid as the young woman hesitated and then hastily followed after.
“Is anything amiss?” Sebastian asked her.
She shook her head. “Not at all. No, we only…” There was a moment of hesitation. It was only when he nodded that she reluctantly finished speaking. “We couldn’t find a hackney.”
Ever observant, his valet said, “You walked here?”
Certainly not. A lady wouldn’t do that. It’s not close enough to walk, not in this weather.
“It wasn’t that far,” Isabel reassured them.
A stone landed heavy in his stomach. Of course she had.
She had taken a hackney the other night instead of her own carriage.
Even now, she wasn’t wearing gloves and a dress he had just seen her wear recently.
There had been the prior concern over the empty kitchens he had found and the chill of the house that night he brought Isabel home. He should have considered this as well.
I shouldn’t have even left her alone. How can a lady be living like that? Surely she should have said something. Stubborn lass.
That night had been like any other for all the life he had endured thus far.
It felt like he had been carrying a broken bird, waking her as gently as possible for her home’s location.
And then no one had even been there to assist her.
He didn’t see any other choice but to step in, warm her up, and keep watch through the night to keep her safe.
And I needed the night to reconcile to what had to happen next.
Being caught holding her unattended meant only one thing. He had seen it happen to one of his oldest friends, Tristan, and now it had happened to him.
Now he wished his friends were here.
“Wake up!” Everyone turned––the ladies jumped––to see Tony shaking the vicar who mumbled but opened his eyes. “Come join the fun, won’t you?”
Sebastian sent him a look but brushed it off so they could indeed begin the inevitable union. It had ruined his plans for the holiday. His friends, the four of them dukes, should have met at Julian’s southern estate for a cozy holiday. He had delayed the trip and now… Well, it was rather late.
A trip to Eastwynd was due anyhow, and I can perhaps join the gentlemen later for a few days. It wasn’t as though they were going to actually come back to London at this time with my abrupt announcement. Rather glad they couldn’t make it in time. I wonder if the letter even arrived yet.
The vicar made it to his position and then frowned deeply at the lot of them. “Is this everyone?” he asked like it was an affront not to have full pews here.
Isabel and Sebastian locked eyes. “Yes.”
Harrumphing, the vicar opened his book and muttered under his breath something about ‘disgrace’ before moving on. He did better when Sebastian gave him a warning look.
With that, the vicar sped along in the Common Book of Prayer with a cheery sort of voice and a forced smile.
The scripts were read, and no vows were necessary. Sebastian accepted Isabel and Isabel accepted Sebastian. Rings were exchanged. Then the vicar announced them husband and wife.
Exactly what I needed. More responsibility. At least she is beautiful.
Even with her beauty, however, Sebastian wasn’t entirely certain how to feel about her.
The yellow dress was a perfect shade for her soft brown hair that almost looked like gold.
And he hadn’t noticed before just how much amber was within her hazel eyes.
They caught the light when she turned her chin up to look at him, and he nearly forgot his breath.
“Husband,” she murmured.
She didn’t seem the type to faint often. That was promising. As much as Sebastian didn’t mind a ball, he had never appreciated the way women seemed to treat him like a monster prowling about like he might gobble them up. And they were always so small.
But Isabel wasn’t. She didn’t shy from him and, while awfully thin like the waifs in Covent Garden, she was very tall. He rather liked that. It didn’t hurt his neck to look at her at all.
“Wife.” He cleared his throat, the word uncomfortable in his mouth. He had never meant to marry. There didn’t need to be more dukes. No more anything or anyone, not when family had a way of being disappointed in him and dying. “It is time for us to travel on to Eastwynd. Are you prepared?”
“Yes. If we can only retrieve the luggage still at the house,” she added with a slight hesitation. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Sebastian paid the vicar and thanked him before having Tony lead out. Then he offered an arm to his wife.
She stared at it for a moment before accepting it. “Thank you.”
Not knowing what to say to that, he nodded and led her out. The wind was still loud and sharp. He switched sides to protect her from the worst of it as they reached the carriage. After helping both Isabel and Amber the maid, he started to close the door.
“Aren’t you accompanying us?” Isabel asked.
Sebastian glanced around the carriage. It was comfortable and light and warm.
The insides were covered in velvet trimmings with space for hot bricks to keep feet warm and space under the seats for food.
He pointed them out before giving her an answer.
“I don’t ride in carriages. I’ll be on my horse instead. ”
“That cannot be safe,” she noted with wide eyes.
He fixed his hat. “I’ll be fine. I always am.”
After a short delay at her family’s house, they took their leave of London. The weather calmed down in time. Riding alongside the two carriages they were taking to his country seat, Sebastian began to compile his list of questions for the woman he had just given his name.
Firstly, he wanted to know what the devil she had been doing alone that evening by Covent Garden. What had she been thinking, fighting so hard for her reticule instead of her life? Did no one teach her good sense?
Next, he’d demand answers about that townhouse where hardly anyone lived and there was ice on both sides of the windows. Why he had been forced to break a chair to light a fire for warmth that night.
And then he would inquire as to why she was alone.
Surely, she had parents somewhere. A mother who should have been sitting in the pews weeping cheerfully and a father to give her away.
Someone who cared that she had returned home half-frozen and who cared why he had ignored the popular tradition of a wedding breakfast.
“Oy, you!”
The carriage driver waved him over. A former old drunk from the streets, Cagney had promised Sebastian years ago he’d owe him his life should he help with a crooked leg.
Except the crooked leg turned out to have something that required amputation.
So, missing one leg, Cagney could no longer do well in taking care of horses.
But he did just fine as a wagon and carriage driver.
The only rule was to not drink on the drive.
As for the language, it couldn’t be helped.
“It’ll be sommat grim after this bridge,” Cagney pointed with his head. “You should be in the benches, eh? Dukes are meant to be important.”
Sebastian huffed. “Then why are there so many of us?” That made the man laugh, his thick white eyebrows hiding under his heavy hat. “Ignore me, Cagney. Just get the ladies to safety.”