Chapter 15
Fifteen
Richard was glad of Michael’s presence when it came time to send off Lightwood before the first light of dawn.
As predicted, the man protested the entire time.
If Richard owned a dungeon or a pair of shackles, he would have been tempted to use one or both of them.
Press-ganging Lightwood into the service was another option if imprisonment was still not allowed.
Richard calculated it would take the man less than a year to violate his agreements grievously enough that he might need to make the threat of an Australian post a reality.
If not for Philippa and her affect on Michael, Richard would abandon the plan to marry her sister entirely because he could not abide the father.
Though not an option, as that would leave him less than a fortnight to secure another bride.
At least this one would honor her marriage vows.
Jane also had the distinction of being wholly admired by Michael.
A recommendation in itself. Though his cousin was easily taken in by mere acquaintances, those he admired were few and always the best of people.
“…Your Grace?”
Richard blinked at his valet.
“Your shave is complete.”
Richard stood so that the chair could be removed. He had to agree with Jenson, his valet, that the bedroom at the dower house was not large enough for his preparations for this day.
Richard and Michael arrived at the family chapel fifteen minutes early.
The rector was already there in his robes.
The pale morning sun illuminated the stained-glass windows, giving the unadorned chapel a certain reverence.
Unlike his first wedding, cloying flowers had not been used to drown out the smells of lemon and wax.
His mother arrived first with Miss Rose and Philippa, who immediately sat by her husband.
Miss Alexandra entered next, looking over her shoulder twice before sitting with her sisters.
Finally, Miss Jane entered on the arm of the Earl of Whitstone, her face hidden beneath a deep bonnet trimmed in water-blue silk and silver ribbon to match the accents on her pale blue dress.
Several dark chestnut curls peeked out from under her bonnet.
She wore the pearl and lapis lazuli necklace.
He assumed the pearl earrings, her father sought to steal from her, were hidden by her bonnet.
She came to stand next to him, and the rector began the ceremony as outlined in the Book of Common Prayer.
At the vows, she looked up at him so quickly that Richard was only left with the impression that her eyes were not brown, but something more complicated.
A fading bruise marked her cheek. She recited her vows, looking mostly at his chest. The ring he chose fit Jane’s finger loosely, he had misjudged her size.
Jane clenched her hand to keep the simple gold band on.
He would go to Shrewsbury on Monday to choose a gold band that better fit her if the local goldsmith could not refit the ring.
The rector gave the pronouncement and pointed them to the side to sign the parish register.
Richard signed, then Jane. At this point in his first wedding, the former duchess had demanded a kiss more passionate than he thought appropriate.
Many a kiss was shared over the parish register by a newlywed couple.
Given that his bride could hardly look at him and their lack of courtship.
He lifted Jane’s left hand to his lips and kissed just above her ring.
He was rewarded with another swift glance, her eyes wide with surprise.
Hazel.
He had not expected her eyes to be lighter than her sisters’.
He offered his arm to lead her from the chapel to walk to the house and the waiting wedding breakfast, where she would remove her bonnet, and he would finally get a good look at the face he could not remember.
The flashes he caught during the ceremony were too quick to register much other than her eye color and a bruise.
The situation was ridiculous. It was positively medieval for a groom not to know what his bride looked like.
When they were only feet from the door, flanked by most of the household staff, a rider galloped up the drive. All heads turned in his direction. The man reined his horses in. “Your Grace, an urgent message.”
Jane slipped her arm out of his. Richard stepped forward and took the offered missive and broke the seal. Words he dared not speak in front of his bride fought to come out of his mouth. Instead, he managed. “I apologize most sincerely. I must go now. I hope to return later today.”
Then he left his bride as he shouted orders to servants to ready for his immediate departure.
The cooks, undercooks, and who knew who else had gone to great pains to create the wedding breakfast complete with a white frosted cake decorated with pink roses.
Like the others, Jane filled a plate and sat primly, attempting conversation.
However, they all avoided the topic on everyone’s mind. Why had the Duke rushed off so?
The question filled the gaps between every word spoken, every nod of a servant, and every morsel of food.
Grandfather came to sit by her. “Congratulations, my girl. It was a fine wedding.”
“Truly?” It was difficult to feel married without the groom in sight.
“Quite. I am, however, debating our plans to leave…” Grandfather, Rose, and Alex were set to depart directly after the wedding breakfast.
“Your things are already packed, and Rose needs to return to school.” Jane would leave Alex and Phil to determine if Rose would be better off elsewhere. While she may have learned some French, along with the snobbery and other mannerisms, such would not benefit her youngest sister later.
“You do not mind that we are leaving you?”
“I will miss you, of course, and it would be better if…”
Grandfather patted her arm. “There, there. He will be back. He wouldn’t have left unless the situation was dire.”
How dire was dire? Could he be in any danger?
He had taken two of the larger footmen with him.
The thought of becoming a widow before she was properly kissed crossed Jane’s mind.
She was not of a romantic disposition. Though she had read her share of novels among her histories and geographies.
Phil’s endless enumeration on the joys of marriage, and having witnessed, to her embarrassment, more than one passionate kiss between Phil and Michael, not to mention George and Johnathan, it seemed like a shame to become a widow with only a light kiss on the hand and an ill-fitting ring to show for her marriage.
“I see I have upset you.” Grandfather patted her arm again. “I am sure he will return soon.”
“Then it is time for me to give my goodbyes.” Jane set aside her barely touched plate to seek her sisters.
Alex stood with Phil, discussing something with the same serious look they often wore before Phil wed and they had to manage the household together. Jane had learned not to interrupt them at such times. Rose sat on a window bench, finishing her piece of cake. Jane joined her.
On her way, the rector stepped into her path. “Lovely breakfast, Your Grace. I hoped His Grace would have returned by now…”
Did not they all?
“… however, I must take my leave. Will I see you at services tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
The rector turned.
“Mr.—” Jane did not know his name.
Nevertheless, the man turned and inclined his head.
“On the off chance that the Duke is detained, will you please postpone your announcement of our nuptials until he is in attendance?”
“Of course, Your Grace.” The rector inclined his head again and left.
Your Grace? How was she to get used to being called that by everyone? Everyone but family that was. Jane sat next to Rose, who devoured a slice of the white-frosted cake. “How is the cake?”
“La! This is the most delicious cake I have ever eaten. Have you not tried a slice?” Rose’s eyes closed as she savored another bite.
Jane forced a smile. “I thought it best to wait and share a slice with my husband.”
“I would never want to share my piece. I thought of taking a slice back to school with me to share, but I would consume the entire piece long before I arrived. It will be enough to describe the wedding to them.”
“No doubt the cooks have included some in your travel hamper, anyway.”
Michael joined them. “Eating the cake already? I thought we were to wait.”
Rose bristled. “They served me from the second cake, not the pretty one there.”
“They offered me one as well,” said Michael with a smile. He pulled his notebook from his pocket and consulted the pages. “Rose, can you keep a secret for a fortnight?”
“Of course I can. I am not some ninny who blathers everything she knows.”
“This is a very important secret that, if he were here, the Duke of Aylton would ask you to keep.”
Jane studied Michael, wondering when he had been asked such a thing. He had chased after the Duke to the carriage house only to return to the house as the Duke rode away. Surely he knew more than the rest of them.
“What secret?”
“You must not tell anyone that you came to Richard and Jane’s wedding or that your sister is even married.”
“What?” Poor Rose’s face crumpled at all the news that would elevate her in status at the school. “Why?”
Michael pinched his lips together and turned his head toward Phil, who still spoke to Alex. He sighed. “I do not suppose they teach girls about political intrigue at school. As a duke, Richard has enemies.”
“Like in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar?” asked Rose.
Enemies? More than the half-brother? Why hadn’t someone told Jane this? Was there danger? There had been something about having extra footmen around. Most of them were larger than she had seen in Town.
“Something like that. So he would prefer to keep the marriage from being announced until after the fifteenth. Can you keep that secret?”
Rose’s face fell. “It was going to be the biggest news of the year.”