Not a word. Not even a blink. It was as though she stared right through him, as though he weren’t even there.
His heart fisted in his chest as the anger turned to hurt. He swallowed hard. “When you’re ready to talk, Ellen, you know where to find me.”
Without another word, he turned and left. He’d be damned if he’d give Ellen a fortune when she wouldn’t speak to him. Never mind that he hadn’t planned to withhold it past the first week or two as a test—he wouldn’t buy his sister’s love.
Every penny of that dowry had been saved out of his love for her, but apparently she couldn’t see that.
Thomas followed him down the stairs and all the way to the entrance. “She’ll come around, sir. I’m sure of it.”
Kit opened the door but stopped short of stepping outside. “How is she?” he asked toward the street.
“She’s well. We’re happy together, sir.”
“Kit.”
“Kit. I know how lucky I am to have married your sister. I’m going to take care of her.”
“See that you do,” Kit said, then slowly turned. He measured the man a long moment before he decided he trusted him.
Or maybe that he had no choice.
“Tell her I love her,” he said quietly, then pushed out into the cool October air, the bell jingling too merrily as the door shut behind him.
FIFTY-EIGHT
STANDING IN the old village church, Rose shifted on her high-heeled shoes, watching another wedding.
The third one this year.
“Edmund Richard Henry, Viscount Grenville, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
“I will.” The confident words boomed through the ancient stone sanctuary, binding Lord Grenville to Judith.
But Rose wasn’t listening to the ceremony. Instead she was noticing how joyful the bride looked. Judith clutched the flowers Rose had arranged for her, a smile curving her lips, her body ranged close to Lord Grenville’s. A good man, Judith had described him. Decent.
Rose’s mother sighed happily, delighted that this introduction had worked well enough to culminate in marriage. The Big Book of Weddings Arranged by Chrystabel was getting thicker. She leaned close, bumping against Rose’s left side. “They’re perfect together, aren’t they?” she whispered.
Rose could only nod dumbly, wondering if she’d ever find anyone perfect. These two were so clearly in love, Rose knew they belonged together. But she imagined herself standing in Judith’s place and the Duke of Bridgewater standing in Grenville’s…and she knew she wouldn’t be as happy.
Was Gabriel decent? She didn’t know. In truth, she didn’t know him at all. And she’d tried, hadn’t she? He was handsome and kind and generous, but he didn’t seem a man who cared to be known.
And he’d kept money that belonged to someone else.
The priest cleared his throat and looked back down at his Book of Common Prayer. “Lady Judith Carrington, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband…”
Standing on Rose’s right, Violet leaned closer to Ford and wrapped an arm about his waist. Ford was decent, too, Rose thought, watching him squeeze her sister around the shoulders. His first love used to be science, but when he found Violet—and responsibilities—he hadn’t hesitated to put them first.
Sun streamed through the stained glass windows, glinting off Violet’s spectacles. “Oh, isn’t this romantic?” she sighed.
“It is,” Rose whispered to no one in particular, remembering Ellen’s wedding, which hadn’t been romantic at all. Yet Ellen had been just as thrilled to marry her love as Judith was today. Ellen’s dowry could have bought her a titled man, but she’d wed a pawnbroker instead. Her Thomas was decent. He’d wanted Ellen even though she hadn’t come with the money they’d expected.
Lily’s husband, Rand, was decent as well. He’d worked hard to become an Oxford professor, but he’d been willing to give that up when other duties were thrust upon him. After falling hard for Lily, he’d even agreed to marry another woman in order to save a man’s life.
Thank God that hadn’t been necessary.
Lily poked Rose from behind. “Your wedding will be next,” she whispered.
Rose hoped so. But first she’d have to find a man who would make her as happy as her sisters and Ellen and Judith. A decent man, a man she could admire.
Gabriel wasn’t that man. She’d tried her best to fall in love with him, but it hadn’t happened. She would have to keep looking. She couldn’t face court again soon, but she would ask Mum to take her to the queen’s birthday celebration at Whitehall next month.
“…so long as ye both shall live?” the priest concluded expectantly.
“I will,” Judith pledged, her voice clear and true. So clear and true that no one in the church had any doubt she meant that pledge with all her heart.
A few more words, a new sapphire ring slid onto Judith’s finger, and she was clearly and truly wed now, the new Lady Grenville.
And watching that, Rose knew she wouldn’t wed until she found a love as decent and true.
When Lord Grenville lowered his lips to meet Judith’s, Rose smiled through a sudden film of tears. She wasn’t sure whether they were happy or sad tears…perhaps they were a little of both.
FIFTY-NINE
MANY HOURS later, Chrystabel sighed happily as she closed her bedchamber door. “Another wedding.”
Her husband wrapped her in his arms. “Another wedding night.” He kissed her thoroughly before his hands went to detach the stomacher that covered her laces. “Will we be celebrating Rose’s wedding soon?”
“I wish I knew.” The familiar fire burning in her already, she hurried to help him out of his surcoat and the long waistcoat underneath, then tugged at the knot in his cravat. “I’m fairly certain she won’t be accepting Bridgewater, but that doesn’t
