Читать книгу The Historical Collection - Stephanie Laurens - Страница 41

On the morning of the wedding, a dozen things went wrong.

Bixby snagged and ripped her veil.

George ate her flowers.

Chase and Ash wouldn’t cease arguing over which of them was the “real” best man.

And now Aunt Caroline was nowhere to be found. They couldn’t begin the ceremony without her. She’d agreed to walk Penny down the aisle.

Penny tapped her toes beneath the hem of her gown, trying not to betray her growing concern.

“There, I’ve done my best.” Emma held up the hastily mended veil. “The damage shouldn’t show too terribly.”

“You’re a miracle worker. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Emma.” Penny hugged her friend. For good measure, she hugged Alexandra and Nicola, too. “I don’t know what I’d do without any of you. My three graces.”

“Only two graces,” Alex countered. “You know I’m not a duchess. Yet.”

“Only one grace,” Nicola said, subtracting herself from the total. “No matter what title I carry, I could never lay any claim to grace.”

“I daresay you are the most gracious among us, Penny.” Emma packed away her needle and thread. “Who could have guessed you’d be the last of us to make it to the altar?”

“However, if my aunt doesn’t appear soon, I may never make it to the altar.”

“She’s still not here?” Gabriel stood at the vestry entrance, looking as impatient as he did handsome.

Penny took a moment to simply admire him. He cut a splendid figure in his morning suit, his broad shoulders stretching the slate-gray wool of his coat. His freshly clipped hair was a swoop of tamed black, and his clean-shaven face looked smooth as a baby’s. Despite his civilized appearance this morning, however, she knew that come evening his jaw would be scratchy with dark whiskers, his hair would be thick, untamed waves—and that elegant morning coat? By then, she would have stripped it from those broad shoulders, revealing the beast beneath.

Everything about their wedding could go wrong, as long as this one thing went right. When they left this church, this magnificent man would be hers. All hers. That was all that mattered, really.

“I hate to interrupt,” he said, “but there are flower girls and a ring bearer currently running footraces between the nave and back of the church.”

“Oh, dear.” Alexandra leaped into action. “Most of those are mine.”

Emma followed. “Not all of them, unfortunately.”

“None are my responsibility yet,” Nicola said. “But I suppose I might need practice.”

Once they were alone, Penny turned to Gabriel. “I can’t imagine what’s delaying Aunt Caroline. I’m worried about her.”

“Whoever or whatever is delaying her, I’m worried for it.”

Uneasiness knotted in her belly. “Do you think she’s changed her mind?”

With her parents and Timothy overseas, and Bradford at a great distance in more ways than one, Aunt Caroline was her only close relation in Town. If even she didn’t appear, Penny would feel rather abandoned.

“Your aunt has not changed her mind,” Gabriel said stoutly. “Why would she? The woman adores me.”

Penny arched an eyebrow in doubt.

“Very well. She doesn’t adore me, but that’s only because she isn’t the adoring sort. Don’t worry. She’ll be here.”

“Penny?”

She wheeled toward the familiar voice. “Bradford?”

Penny hadn’t seen her eldest brother in a year. Not since that misty morning in St. James Park when she’d put the choice to him. He was her brother, and she loved him dearly—but as long as he maintained a relationship with his father-in-law, they couldn’t be a part of each other’s lives.

In the months since, they’d corresponded in stilted, impersonal fashion when necessary, and naturally she’d sent him notice of the wedding. When friends asked, it wasn’t difficult to explain his absence. The excuses wrote themselves: too long a journey from Cumberland, another child on the way, and so forth.

And now … here he was, without warning.

She swallowed a lump in her throat. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“To be fair, I wasn’t certain, either. In the end, Aunt Caroline gave me a kick in the arse.”

Gabriel made his presence known. “If you’re here to object during the ceremony, I’ll kick you in the arse myself. And I’m a fair bit stronger than Aunt Caroline.”

“I’m not here to object to the wedding.” He looked to Penny. “I’m hoping to be a part of it. Might I have the honor of walking you down the aisle?”

She couldn’t speak.

“This past year, I haven’t kept my distance out of anger or mistrust, but out of shame. I’m your older brother. I should have paid more attention. I should have … known somehow. I wasn’t there when you needed me, and I know I can never make amends for the past. But if you’ll allow me, I promise to be there from this day forward.”

“You don’t have to say yes, Penny,” Gabriel said.

“I know.”

She took her brother’s hands in hers. The space between them couldn’t be bridged in one morning. But if he’d taken the first step—several thousand first steps, considering the distance from Cumberland—she could make the next.

Before speaking, she paused to reflect. “Bradford, I’m glad you’re here. So very glad. But I don’t want you to walk me down the aisle this morning. I’m not yours to give away.”

Bradford looked disappointed, but he took it well. “I understand. I’ll fetch Aunt Caroline, then? She’s just outside.”

“I’m not Aunt Caroline’s to give away, either. Or anyone’s. I’m my own person, marrying the man of my choosing.” She reached for Gabriel’s hand and looked up at him. “Why don’t we walk down the aisle together?”

“Rather a break with tradition,” Bradford said. “But if it’s what you want.”

“It is.”

“Then that’s how it should be. I’m happy for you, Penny.” Bradford kissed her on the cheek. On his way out, he leveled a finger at Gabriel. “You’re not good enough for her.”

“Neither are you,” Gabriel returned.

Bradford nodded. “What do you know, we’ve already found some common ground.”

When her brother had left, Penny turned to her groom and smiled. “I suppose we should go be married.”

“No hedgehog in your pocket?”

She shook her head. “And no shilling in yours, I hope?”

His reply was strangely hesitant. “No.”

Suspicious, Penny skimmed her hands over the silk of his waistcoat and the hard planes of his chest beneath. When her fingers encountered a hard, flat object in the region of his breast pocket, she gave a cry of displeasure. “Gabriel.”

“What?”

“You know very well what.” She worked her gloved hand under the superfine wool of his lapel, delving into the concealed pocket.

He shied from her touch. “Brazen woman.”

“You promised me.”

“And I kept my promise.”

“Truly?” She pinched the coin between her thumb and forefinger, wiggling it free of its satin-lined hiding place. “Then how do you explain this?”

“Spare change. Can’t imagine how it got there.”

She tipped her head in reproach.

He exhaled, sounding resigned. “It’s not what you think.”

She turned her hand palm-up between them, letting the coin serve as its own accusation. “I think I know a shilling when I see one.”

“Look again.”

She looked down at the coin in her gloved palm, where its embossed face stood out in sharp relief against white satin. Light glinted off the surface, revealing the color to be not the expected dull silver, but a coppery hue instead.

Oh.

A sharp pang of surprise caught her heart. He’d been telling the truth. It wasn’t a shilling after all.

It was a penny.

A bright, newly minted penny. One he’d been keeping tucked in his breast pocket. Right next to his heart.

She drew a shaky breath. “Gabriel.”

His hands went to her shoulders—but it was his low, husky voice that reached out and drew her close. “You know the squalor I was born to. And you know I promised myself I’d never be that barefoot, starving boy again.”

She nodded.

“I have every luxury a man could desire. Hundreds of thousands of pounds in my accounts. I worked like hell to build a fortune, and yet …” His thumb met her cheek with a reverent caress. “Now I’d sell my soul for a Penny.”

She stretched up on her toes and placed a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek, nuzzling as they drifted apart. They stared into each other’s eyes for a time. She couldn’t have guessed whether it lasted seconds or hours, but she knew it was a sliver of always.

He held out his hand. “I’ll take that back, thank you.”

She surrendered the coin gladly, tucking it back into his pocket before straightening his lapels and smoothing his coat flat. “I’m going to walk down the aisle with a reddened nose and watery eyes. I hope you’re happy.”

He replied simply, “I am.”