It was his wedding, after all!
He hurried out to the waiting carriage. His coachman was hunched up, shoulders to ears, but with a tight grip on the reins. Gabriel smashed his hand against the side of the coach, “To the Weatherby Mansion, my good man!”
They traveled the short distance to the other side of the park. Gabriel hopped out. The reverend tipped and rolled but landed on his feet.
“License?” Gabriel asked.
“Right here. I am performing the ceremony, am I not?”
“It is my guess that was Nora’s intention all along.” Why else bring a minister to a scandalous ball?
The sun was up, and Gabriel’s mood was surprisingly buoyant. Inside the house, the servants scurried around, cleaning the detritus and disorder from the long night before. There were guests who still mingled, drinks in hand, as if Lady Weatherby meant to feed and entertain them for days on end. This was one of the reasons Gabriel did not like his own house parties, few as they were.
Would Nora entertain in such a way? He hoped not. Not at Henbury Hall, certainly. Perhaps in London. A small house party with the family’s closest acquaintances to welcome Nora to the family, including his brother and sister and their families, when the time was right. Grandfather could bring his new wife. Ellis Rawden and Nash Hildebrande would be invited to any party Gabriel had. They were his oldest friends.
He paced inside one of the Weatherbys’ large drawing rooms until a servant arrived with food and drink. “May I get you anything else while you wait?”
“Yes, I need to write a few notes. Can you bring me paper and pen?” He quickly wrote notes to Ellis and Nash and invited them to the wedding. It would be a small affair, but at least his friends should participate. They’d have to drag themselves out of bed to do so.
Gabriel was interrupted several times to take his advice and give him information, but Nora wasn’t one of those interruptions.
Ellis arrived first, joining Gabriel in a celebratory drink. Nora’s brother, Timothy, skulked in and took a seat near the bank of windows. Finally, Mother and Nash came in.
When Lady Weatherby swept in, Mother sniffed. “Dorothea, what an auspicious occasion.”
“To be sure. And our home has never been graced by such a beautiful and elegant bride.”
Nora chose that moment to make her entrance, followed by the Reverend Wright and about ten of the overnight guests, among them last year’s reigning champions of indiscretion, Lord and Lady Hythe, ready to give up their crown. Lady Hythe appeared heavy with child. Obviously, their union had proved fruitful.
At the sight of his soon-to-be wife, Gabriel’s temperature rose as heat swept over him. What had he expected? That she would wear her black-and-red Venetian costume? Oh, no! She was dressed in a blinding shade of white—completely unacceptable based on the norms of modern English brides. White implied purity. That she might be, but she was far from innocent.
He approached her and took her hand, placing it upon his sleeve. “And what are you planning to steal today, my dear?” he asked in a whisper, his lips touching her ear.
“One of Lady Weatherby’s diamond rings.”
Nora opened her free hand between them, and a large shiny silver ring crested by numerous diamonds rested in her palm. “Don’t worry. I’ll let you be the hero when you return it to her. I wanted to see how it felt when you slipped it on my finger as a sign of your love and fidelity.”
Gabriel stared at her, reminding himself it wasn’t too late to abscond to Italy.
Chapter Three
Vows said without incident, they were led to another room in Lady Weatherby’s mansion, where a huge wedding buffet had been prepared. The household servants must be exhausted after the feverish lead-up to the ball and now an unexpected wedding. Or had Lady Weatherby planned for all the possible infamous scenarios ahead of time?
“Hand it over,” Gabriel said. “It’s been in your possession far too long and I don’t want you to get ideas that you can continue to abuse the people around you.”
“I could say the same about you, Carlow. You’ve been in possession of Henbury Hall for far too long.”
She pried the ring from her middle finger, which no one seemed to have noticed. “I don’t steal everything. Lady Weatherby had carelessly left it in the refreshing room earlier. Anyone else would have gone home with it and not said a word.”
“Did you stop to think that you might have been the one accused, once it was known you were at the ball?”
“I wasn’t supposed to be revealed in such a spectacular fashion,” she said, picking up a small plate.
“You expect me to believe that? I thought this was your plan all along,” he said.
She said nothing, only raised her brows.
“I suppose your father taught you such skills?”
“Yes. Simply thievery and a few card tricks. Two talents to raise the least questions and return the greatest rewards.”
“You’ve never been caught?”
“Oh, my dear Lord Carlow, I am the one who does the catching.”
And so she had. Gabriel followed her, noting her preferences. She didn’t appear to be a finicky eater. Nora took healthy portions of the bacon and ham, a single Scotch egg, pickled beetroot and radishes, fresh quartered tomatoes, maybe the first of the season, and a small bowl of scarlet strawberries with a dollop of whipped cream on the top.
He loaded his plate with much the same, except larger portions. Food was
