Her brothers wanted her to play the part of a blushing bride, and a blushing bride they’d get. She leaned closer. Pale, too. Which was ridiculous—this was but a game.
“No, poppet,” Amy said, reattaching one of the tabs on Caithren’s stomacher where Jewel’s pudgy fingers had managed to unfasten it.
Handing the baby to Amy, Cait moved closer and touched Kendra’s arm. “Did Jason talk to you about what will happen on your wedding night?”
“Or Colin?” Amy added.
“No,” Kendra said. “Because this isn’t a real wedding. Besides, I know what happens. I’ve lived in the countryside most of my life. I’ve seen animals in the fields—”
She was cut short by Cait’s snort. Her sisters-in-law exchanged an amused glance, then sobered. “It’s not like the animals, not really,” Cait said gently. “You should know it will hurt, but only—”
A knock interrupted before the door opened to reveal Jason and Colin. “Are you ready?” Jason asked. “It’s time.”
It would hurt? That was unwelcome news. Telling herself she had no reason to be alarmed, because this wasn’t a real wedding, Kendra nodded. “Shall we get this little drama over with?”
NINE
“NERVOUS, MAN?”
“Of course not.” Trick shot Lady Kendra’s twin, Ford, a smile—a confident one, he hoped. The shakiness in his legs must be a symptom of last night’s overindulgence. He clenched his fists to keep his hands from giving him away, then shoved them into the pockets of his midnight blue velvet surcoat.
He’d last worn the suit a few years ago in Paris, for one of those intolerable social occasions Father insisted he attend to further the “business.” It was more fitted than the current style, but Trick had only one other formal suit at his home in the countryside, and he wasn’t about to wed in his highwayman clothes.
His gaze swept over the groomed lawn of Cainewood Castle’s quadrangle, then darted away when he spotted the parson, hands clasped behind his back. He seemed a kind enough sort, but the sight of him made Trick’s stomach lurch. He looked back to Ford…but, nay, he’d as soon not look at Ford, either. His bride’s twin and most certainly the person who knew her best.
His eyes strayed to the ancient keep, the worn stone an imposing reminder of the strength of Lady Kendra’s line. Four hundred years the Chases had lived here, as Jason told it, save during the Commonwealth. Kendra knew who she was and what she had come from, unlike Trick. He’d always thought of himself as a mongrel.
A mangy one.
Distracted by the bang of a thick oak door, he turned to see his bride descending Cainewood’s front steps.
Stunning in a sky-blue gown, she glided his way. The shimmering silk overskirt opened down the front to reveal an underskirt of costly silver tissue—he knew the expense, having bolts of the very fabric stacked in his London warehouse. The sleeves were double-puffed with a spill of silver lace at the wrists, which had made its way from Italy, if he didn’t miss his guess.
Swathed within the lace, her hands looked small. In fact, everything about her looked small. He hadn’t noticed that before.
He hadn’t had time to notice much of anything, he told himself, watching a faint blush creep up from her scooped neckline. His gaze wanted to linger on her lips, but he forced himself to meet her eyes instead. A crisp shade of light green, they looked alert and wary, but as they locked with his, a hint of something else seemed to kindle in their depths. Something that made his own cheeks grow warm.
Deliberately looking away, Lady Kendra walked toward the family’s small private chapel, Jason and Colin at her sides. Their wives trailed behind, a tiny, pink-dressed lass holding their hands, tripping along and giggling between them.
In no time at all, Trick found himself mounting the chapel’s stone steps. Inside, sunshine streamed through brilliant-colored windows to cast the sanctuary in rainbow hues. Squaring his shoulders, he went to face the parson. Jason and Colin kissed their sister before Ford walked her to join Trick at the altar, delivering her into his care with a kiss and a hug and something whispered into her ear that Trick wished he could hear.
Lady Kendra shook her head and rolled her eyes as she pulled away.
Every inch of Trick was aware of her standing beside him. Her fiery hair was covered by a fine lace veil that framed her face, the ends tucked into her neckline. Trick reached for her hand, feeling it cold and clammy in his.
“Wait,” he said, and pulled her to the side of the sanctuary, ignoring the questioning looks on her siblings’ faces.
“You don’t have to go through with this,” he told her in a whisper.
She looked even more at a loss than before. “I…I don’t think—”
“I’ll be asked to take my vows first. When the time comes, if you wish to call this off, just shake your head no and I won’t say ‘I will.’”
Lifting her hand, he ran his fingers over the bracelet’s amber stones, feeling slightly disoriented at the sight of the family heirloom on her wrist. It made this all seem so real, yet unreal at the same time.
He looked up. “I don’t expect they can actually force us to marry,” he added, thinking of Colin’s sword and hoping he was right.
She peeked around at her brothers, then lifted her chin. “If you’re willing, then I am, too.”
He had his reasons to be willing…he just wondered what hers were. What was wrong with her, then, that she thought she couldn’t do better than a thief for a husband? He wasn’t really one, of course, but he was aware she didn’t know that—doubly aware, since her brothers had made a point of keeping his identity from her, to the extent of asking this afternoon if it would be acceptable for his title to be left out of the proceedings.
She
