An Invitation to Seduction (21 page)

H
er wedding day. Kitty could hardly believe the day had arrived or that the hour was rapidly approaching when she would leave for the church. Vows were to be exchanged at the fashionable hour of two-thirty. Afterward, her parents would have an afternoon tea for the guests, hosted at this house. Then she and Weddington would leave, and she didn’t want to think much about what would happen after that.

Bittersweet memories swamped her as Nancy prepared her hair, not for Farthingham as she’d often anticipated, but for Weddington. Richard. She supposed she should begin to think of him more personally. After all, her body knew him intimately.

When Nancy was finished only a few tendrils touched the nape of her neck, the remainder caught up in a very becoming fashion that Kitty thought would indeed look lovely when wreathed with orange blossoms and covered with the Honiton lace veil.

Then Nancy helped her slip on the wedding gown.
“Oh, miss, it’s so beautiful,” Nancy said with reverence.

It was only then that Kitty peered into the mirror. The white satin-and-lace gown had been altered perfectly for her proportions. A long train of satin and lace beaded with tiny white pearls made her appear so elegant.

“Are you ready to see your father?” Nancy asked.

Looking past her reflection in the mirror to Nancy’s, Kitty tried to force her thoughts away from thoughts of Farthingham. “My father?”

“Yes, miss. He informed me that I was to send for him once you were ready. He wanted a few minutes with you before he accompanied you to the coach that the duke sent.”

Kitty pressed trembling fingers to her temple. “I can barely remember everything I’m supposed to do today.”

“Not to worry, miss. The duke gave me a list of instructions to follow, and he spoke to us all last night regarding what to expect today. He wants nothing to go awry.”

“Of course, he doesn’t,” she said distractedly. He didn’t like for things to interfere with his goals.

She turned away from the mirror, but couldn’t turn away from her doubts. “Yes, I’m ready to see my father.”

When he walked into the room, she dearly wished she wasn’t wearing clothing that constrained her movements, wished she could dash across the flooring and into his arms. He wore a dark blue morning coat, and although his hair was turning silver, she thought she’d never seen a more handsome man.

Unless it was the duke.

“My God, girl,” he said quietly, “aren’t you beautiful?”

Tears stung her eyes. “Oh, Papa, I love you so much.”

“No more than I love you, sweetheart.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He touched her cheek. “For what?”

“For mistakes I made.” She shook her head. “This isn’t exactly how I dreamed my wedding would be.”

“I don’t know that it’s going to be so awful, Kitty. Not many brides would have a day like I think this one is going to be.”

“I know.” Sniffing, she blinked back her tears. “It’s simply that I always thought you would be giving me over to Nicky’s keeping.” She shook her head. “I guess I simply miss him.”

“That’s understandable, girl.”

She licked her lips. “You’ve always been so good at judging men. What’s your impression of Weddington? As a man. I mean if he’d never compromised my reputation”—which she truly couldn’t put completely on his shoulders since she’d gone to the bathhouse and sought him out—“if you weren’t angry with him about that, what would your opinion of him be?”

“I like him. And God knows I tried not to. I was ready to skin him alive that night that he came to the house, but I think he’ll take good care of you.”

“You think he’s a good man, then?”

Her father grinned. “You think I’d give my consent to your marrying him if I thought he was a bad man?”

“No, I guess I’m simply nervous.”

“That makes two of us. Giving one of my girls away”—he shook his head—“it’s not going to be easy. Years ago, you were a gift to me and your mother. Unexpected, but definitely wanted. When your mother and I would have guests over, you’d sit on the stairs, peering into the parlor. I’d always find you there, and then we’d waltz with you standing on my feet, before I carried you back up to bed and tucked you in. I’d look down on you and think how lucky I was that you were my little girl. Now you’re grown-up, but you’re still my little girl. To
day’s not going to change that.” He reached into his jacket and removed a velvet box. “Here’s a little something to help you remember that.”

“Oh, Papa, I’ll always remember.” Still, she took his gift, opened the box, and felt tears sting her eyes. “Oh, Papa, it’s beautiful.”

He removed the diamond necklace, slipped behind her, placed it around her neck, and clasped it in place.

She turned toward the mirror. “It’s perfect.” She turned back to him. “And thank you for loving me.”

“Sweetheart, that’s always been one of the greatest pleasures of me life. Loving you, Emily, and your mother.” He held out his arm. “Now, let’s go see if this duke of yours can appreciate you as much as I do.”

If not for Farthingham’s death, if not for her delicate condition, Kitty might have thought she were living in a fairy tale. Weddington had sent an open carriage for her. White, trimmed in gold, with four matching white horses, gorgeous creatures. In her lap rested the bouquet of orchids and white roses that had been delivered to her at the duke’s request.

Sitting beside her, her mother held her hand while her father and Emily sat opposite. Emily was going to lead the way into the church by tossing orange blossoms in Kitty’s path. Kitty would only have four bridesmaids, friends she’d made over the years, but not anyone to whom she was especially close. Perhaps she was more like Richard than she realized.

“Will you look at the stars tomorrow night, Kitty?” Emily asked. “We’ll be on the yacht.”

She smiled. “Of course, I will.”

“Are you certain you don’t mind us going to the Riviera for a while?” her mother asked.

“Of course not. I’ll be very busy adjusting to married life. When you return, I’ll have you over for dinner.”

“We wouldn’t leave if we thought you needed us, but often newly married couples can use some time alone.”

Which was the very last thing she wanted with Weddington. Still, she smiled at mother. “I’ll be fine.”

People were lining the streets, and as the carriage drew nearer to the church, she saw crowds swarming about. She knew people had an interest in seeing the participants of a fashionable wedding dressed in their finery. She was suddenly very glad that the duchess had suggested—rather insisted—that she dress in splendor for the occasion.

She glanced up at the sky. It was gloriously sunny, and she hoped that Freddie was right, that Nicky was looking down on her and smiling. Although it hurt, she smiled in fond remembrance of him and prepared to step out of the carriage.

Her gaze swept the crowd. Blond hair. A familiar smile. Gone in the blink of an eye.

Her heart stopped.

She frantically searched the crowds again.

“Kitty?” Her mother said from behind her. “Everyone’s waiting, dear. We need to get into the church.”

“I thought I saw Nicky.” She allowed the footman to help her down, and immediately walked with purpose toward the crowd in the churchyard, her gaze darting between people as she wended her way between the throng, ignoring the hands touching her, pulling on her.

“Kitty!” her mother called after her.

But she’d seen him. She was certain she’d seen him. His blond curling hair—

“Kitty!” her father demanded. “Let me through here.”

She’d seen him. There!

She rushed forward—

Only it wasn’t Nicky.

It was a man as tall as he was, as blond as he was…but the features were all wrong.

“Kitty.” Her father took her arm and turned her. “Whatever is the matter with you?”

She looked up into her father’s face, imploring him to understand. “I thought I saw Nicky.”

“Sweetheart, he’s dead.”

She nodded. “I know. I just…he had his smile.” She looked back to the man she’d thought was Nicky…only he didn’t have Nicky’s smile. How could she have mistaken him?

“We need to get into the church,” her father said.

“Yes, of course.” She glanced around once more, hesitant to leave, when the recognition had been so strong. She’d seen him, she was certain of it. But she couldn’t have. She knew that. Her head knew that. Her heart…she’d been looking with her heart…at the sky, the crowds…

She repeated that litany as her father led her toward the church, parting the crowds like a man accustomed to having his way. Over and over she repeated that only her heart had seen him, but the repetition couldn’t convince her that her eyes hadn’t seen him as well.

The guilt was making her see someone who no longer existed, the guilt because she’d turned to Richard so soon. The guilt because she was getting married to another man.

As she walked up the steps, she smiled in reassurance at her mother who was standing by the door.

“Kitty, are you all right?” her mother asked.

“Yes, I’m fine. Mama, I could have sworn I saw Nicky.”

“It was probably your heart seeing him.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure you’re right.”

But even as she said the words, she wasn’t convinced that she believed them.

Standing before the altar, Richard would have patted himself on the back for exercising unbelievable restraint in not removing his watch from his waistcoat pocket and verifying the time. He was fairly certain that he’d been waiting for the arrival of his bride much longer than he should have been. And judging by the tittering of those in the pews and the many people who continually darted quick glances over their shoulders, he wasn’t the only one thinking that it was taking an inordinate amount of time for Kitty to appear.

“She’ll be here any moment now,” Montague said quietly.

“I should hope so. We have a schedule to keep.”

“Everyone will understand if you’re a moment or two late in slicing the wedding cake.”

Richard refrained from commenting. He’d asked Montague to stand as his best man, so Kitty might feel more at ease. He didn’t know how he could do much more for the woman than he’d already done to earn her favor. Yet she still seemed reluctant to grant it. He hoped she hadn’t changed her mind completely. They had a child to think of. His child. A possible heir.

He would have preferred to have turned her heart toward him before giving her a child, so he could be secure in her affections, and she could be certain of his. With or without a child, he would have married her.

But he was plagued with doubts that without a child, she might not have ever married him.

However, doubts could be erased with actions. He could woo her more ardently from that moment on. And it would be his pleasure to do so, and hopefully a bit easier. After all, he no longer had the shadow of Farthingham hanging over him.

The soft music that had been filtering from the organ suddenly hit a resounding chord, as the “Wedding
March” began, and he finally had hope that the blasted waiting was about to end. He shifted slightly and watched as Emily littered the floor with orange blossoms, then four ladies whom Richard vaguely recognized strolled down the aisle. Friends of Kitty with very respected fathers no doubt. They probably moved about in his circle, but he’d never paid them any attention.

Exactly as now, he hardly noticed them at all, taking their places off to the side, because Kitty had come into view, and he thought his gaze had never before fallen on a woman as beautiful as she. He’d feared she’d arrive in black crepe simply to remind him that she’d not gotten over her loss of Farthingham. And here she was in pure white, strolling gracefully beneath the archway of orange blossoms. He could not have been more pleased that she’d gone to such lengths for this moment.

Then she was standing before him. He’d hoped by now that some of the color might have returned to her face, but even through the veil, he saw she was incredibly pale. She offered him a small semblance of a smile, and he gave her a brusque nod.

The bishop’s voice rang out, “Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?”

“I do,” David Robertson said as he placed Kitty’s hand within the bishop’s, and he, in turn, relinquished it into Richard’s keeping.

He was surprised by how badly she was trembling, almost as badly as she’d been the morning he’d taken her from the sea or when he’d held her during the storm. Nervousness, of course, was the culprit. She had to stand before all these people, most of whom were probably strangers. His mother was too ensconced in Society. He doubted an empty seat remained anywhere.

The bishop asked Kitty to repeat her vows. Richard became distressingly aware of the silence that followed and
the bishop striving to look as though he were not waiting for a response.

“Kitty,” Richard urged quietly, barely moving his lips.

The bishop cleared his throat. Montague cleared his throat. Richard thought he heard one of the ladies standing beside Kitty clear her throat, so for good measure he cleared his.

“Kitty,” Montague hissed. “Your vows. Repeat your vows. Farthingham—”

“I saw him,” she whispered.

Everything within Richard stilled. “Pardon?”

Kitty flinched, and Richard cursed as his voice echoed around him. Her gaze wandered over his face, and he wondered if she saw the guilt there, suspected what he’d done.

“Yes, please,” the bishop said. “You’ll need to repeat your vows a bit more loudly so we might all hear them.”

She looked to the bishop then. “I’m sorry. Will you say them again?”

The bishop repeated the vows, and Richard held his breath while she said them, every word. The remainder of the ceremony could not have happened quickly enough.

Richard repeated his vows. They knelt on the cushions and bowed their heads to receive the blessing. The bishop’s voice echoed with the most beautiful words Richard had ever heard.

“Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder.”

Richard breathed a sigh of relief. He’d done it! She was his! And now no one could take her from him. Not even Farthingham.