"What?"
Before Mia could answer, Chuffy swooped down and sat himself between them. He had a glass of champagne that he handed to Mia, and a bottle that he was drinking from.
"I thought I'd better rescue you," he whispered loudly, and turning to the group at large, "There's no music at this party."
"That's because it's not a party," Vander said, coming around the settee. Lady Xenobia hopped up and swept her husband away to the other side of the room. Maybe she would be more polite now she knew the temporary nature of the union she and her husband were supposed to witness.
"Well, my boy, you are in luck: I can provide the music. What is love? 'tis not hereafter," Chuffy caroled, or perhaps warbled was a better word for it. "Come kiss me, sweet and twenty, Youth's a stuff will not endure."
He leaned toward Mia, lips puckered.
Vander's hand shot out. He pulled her to her feet and back against his chest before she could stop him. "Miss Carrington is not for kissing, Uncle."
Chuffy blinked up at them. "Are you older than sweet-and-twenty?" he asked Mia.
"Yes," she said, feeling very old-maid-ish.
"Well, then, I wasn't offering to kiss you," he pointed out.
"Shall we join the vicar in the chapel?" Mia asked desperately. She longed to have this ghastly morning behind her so she could head back to her own house. Charlie might be anxious. She had never left him overnight; she was always there to greet him in the morning.
"Are you in a hurry?" Vander asked.
She stepped back, away from him. "Yes," she said baldly. She wanted to get away from these people, all of whom loved Vander-which was nice for him-but reminded her that she had no one who cared for her, other than Charlie. "Your Grace, surely you don't want to make this occasion more emotional that it already is?"
"O, stay and hear, your true love's coming," Chuffy sang. "‘Coming'? Did you hear that? People think ol' Shakespeare was stodgy but we know different, aye?" He staggered to his feet and upended his bottle over Mia's glass, but nothing came out.
He swiveled and glared at Vander. "It's a poor house that doesn't have a drop of champagne for a bride on her wedding day."
"Someone must have drunk it," Vander said.
"Coming after wedding, you see," Chuffy cooed.
"Miss Carrington, you're biting your lip again." Vander bent closer. "It turns your lips a very appealing color. Some women would do it for that very reason."
She scowled at him.
"I gather you weren't trying to entice your soon-to-be spouse," he said wryly, turning to his guests. "Shall we adjourn to the chapel? The bride is eager to be married."
Eager to be married? That did it. It topped the humiliation of her poetry, of being jilted, of being disdained by Vander's friends.
Welcome, Mia thought grimly, to the Twelfth Circle of Hell.
Chapter Eight
NOTES ON BEQUEST
Count Frederic wealthy beyond wildest dreams-begs Flora to give up Mr. Mortimer's bequest. "Buy a nosegay for my buttonhole, my darling. No man except myself shall give you aught. Not even from beyond the grave!"
~ Flora fears to trust him. (avoid ‘Flora fears')
"If you have no confidence in me, we are not destined to wed," Frederic exclaimed, his blue eyes bright with betrayal. "How can I take a woman as my countess who trusts loves me not?"
Then he jilts her-after making her give up her inheritance. (Perfidious! Devilish! I like it!)
The vicar was clearly unhappy, likely for any number of reasons. "Who stands for this woman?" he demanded.
Vander was proud to see that Mia didn't flinch. She regarded the vicar steadily, folded her hands, and said, "My closest living relative is eight years old."
Chuffy tottered forward. "She has me. I'm it. I mean, I'll be her kinsman and walk her where she has to go. Up the aisle, is it?"
The vicar regarded him with distaste. "Sir Cuthbert, how come you with this lethargy so early in the day?"
"Is it early?" Chuffy asked, with perfect surprise.
"I believe we should begin the ceremony," Vander stated.
They waited while the vicar fussed about with his missal, and Vander started thinking about the way his father used to rant. His mother would listen, or pretend to, but then she turned to another man whenever she could.
Thinking about his parents' wretched union , he looked down at Mia with a genuine smile. Her head was bent, and morning sunlight streaming through the chapel's east window turned her hair to honey and gold.
A few days earlier he never would have imagined it, but he was coming to understand that this marriage really was the best of all worlds: She was desperately in love and wouldn't turn aside from him. He was emotionally untouched and need not be concerned about becoming besotted by a woman.
As if sensing his gaze, Mia looked up at him. True, he had promised her only four nights a year together. But he might not mind giving her more.
His eyes drifted lower, to the way her breasts swelled against the tired fabric of her gown. She needed better clothing; she had to dress like a duchess, rather than a governess.
Then India's gown caught his attention. Her breasts were on display, albeit in a fashionable manner, and he wouldn't care for Mia's to be exposed.
"Why are you smiling?" his wife-to-be whispered.
Surprised, he dropped the smile. "Perhaps I'm happy to be getting married."
"There's no need to mock me!"
Chuffy bustled up. "You stand over there, Vander." He gestured toward the altar. "I'll bring my girl into the chapel from the courtyard, and you pretend that you haven't seen her this morning. That's important, you know. Not seeing the bride before getting married."
Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed Mia's arm and dragged her straight out of the chapel.
Thorn broke into a crack of laughter. "Shall I stand beside you?" he asked Vander.
A sudden memory of Thorn's wedding shot into Vander's head. They had married in St. Paul's. The cathedral was filled to the dome with members of polite society, eager to witness a marquess' daughter marry a bastard, albeit a duke's bastard.
He had stood beside Thorn at the front of the church, watching as India walked toward them, her happiness shining from her face. She didn't take her eyes from Thorn, even for a moment.
"Yes," he said abruptly. He turned to the Duke of Villiers. "If you would join me as well, I should be honored."
"You're like a son to me," the duke said, touching Vander's arm. "Between us, Thorn and I will work out this mess. I promise you."
"I will stand next to Miss Carrington," India said grimly.
Vander nodded. "Thank you."
Chuffy poked his head into the chapel and shouted, "Shall I bring in the bride now?"
The vicar sniffed and turned to face the back of the church. Vander moved to the side, Thorn's presence warm at his shoulder.
Chuffy started down the aisle with his arm through Mia's. He was stepping high, apparently aiming for a ceremonial effect. Halfway up the aisle he missed his step and lurched sideways, pulling Mia with him.
India gasped. Luckily Chuffy managed to catch himself on a pew and proceed.
"By God and all the saints at the back door of Purgatory, there was a moment when I thought I might shipwreck us both," he said cheerfully, when they arrived at the chancel railing and he handed Mia over to Vander. "Losing my balance as I grow older."
"I would remind you, Sir Cuthbert, not to take the Lord's name in vain in his own house!" the vicar snapped.
Chuffy gave him a magnificent scowl. "Does thou think that because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?"
At this pronouncement, Mia gave a charming giggle. Vander was still trying to untangle his uncle's speech-what had cakes and ale to do with anything?-and India was frowning in confusion. But Chuffy and Mia were smiling at each other, and he was patting her arm.
"That one worked, didn't it, my dear?" he said. "Hit that one on the nail head."
Vander raised an eyebrow.
"Sir Cuthbert is quoting from Twelfth Night," Mia explained. "He's been doing it on and off all morning."
"He has?" That was from India, apparently as surprised by this information as Vander.
The vicar cleared his throat. Even he seemed amused, if reluctantly. "I could take that reference in offense, Sir Cuthbert. But you must cease your ‘disorders,' so that I can get on to the business of marrying His Grace to Miss Carrington."