More Than a Duke(108)
“…by joining of hands; I pronounce that they be man and wife together. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
Just like that, Anne Arlette Adamson became the Countess of Stanhope.
“Just lovely, absolutely beautiful!” Lady Essex cried.
Anne’s mother seethed in silence, a clear indication of just how beautiful she saw this particular day. A pang of regret struck. Her mother would never accept the love Anne had for Harry.
“I imagine the wedding breakfast prepared by your mother should be quite enjoyable,” he drawled close to her ear.
Father’s betrayal, however belonged to her past. Anne smiled at Harry—her husband. He was her future. “Indeed, it should.”
~*~
As Harry gathered with the loquacious, excited lot that was Anne’s family for his and Anne’s wedding breakfast, all his earlier suspicions had indeed proven correct, but certainly not in the manner he’d imagined. Seated beside Anne, listening to her laugh alongside her two sisters and younger brother, the feast really was quite—enjoyable.
“I daresay Lord Essex will brag about the brilliance of his gardens that brought a couple to wed in his conservatory for the remainder of his days,” Aldora said on a laugh.
Anne smiled over the rim of her wine glass. “He’ll certainly never imagine it was something as shocking as—”
The countess’ eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Anne,” she snapped.
Anne’s grin widened. “Harry’s love of the exotic hibiscus.”
The three Adamson ladies dissolved into a fit of laughter.
Benedict scratched his brow. “What is it?” He looked to his new brother-in-law. “I say, do you have a thing for Lord Essex’s flowers? I’ve never known a gentleman to love gardening.”
Harry inclined his head. “I have a love of all things magnificent.” He winked. “Particularly your sister.”
The young boy groaned and slapped his hands over his ears to drown out any other possible words.
Harry chuckled and slipped his hand under the table to find Anne’s fingers. He took them in his and gave a faint squeeze. She looked at him and solemnity drove back his earlier teasing. The chatter of her siblings blurred with the conversation between Lord Michael and the Duke of Bainbridge. He ran a searching gaze over her face. Had there been a time when he’d truly not found her beautiful? There was no one more glorious than his wife.
“What is it?” She dabbed her napkin against her mouth. “Is—?”
He fished around the front of his jacket and withdrew a long, narrow box. “Here,” he said quietly. Anne dropped the crisp linen and accepted the gift. She looked to him questioningly. “Go on,” he urged.
Anne slipped off the top of the box and then gasped. She looked from the necklace within and then back to him. “Oh, Harry,” she whispered. She gently removed the gold strand and ran the tip of her finger over the five-carat ruby heart.
Harry took it from her fingers. “May I?” he murmured.
She angled her head, in response. He appreciated the long, graceful stretch of her neck and brushed his fingers caressingly over the tempting silken, softness of her skin. “I imagined you’d no longer have need of the heart of a duke necklace, and thought to replace it with the heart of your earl.” He clicked the clasp shut. “Just so that some lofty duke doesn’t take it into his head to spirit you away from me.”
Anne touched her hand to the blood-red ruby. “Oh, Harry,” she whispered. “Surely you know no one could take me from you.”
He tweaked her nose. “With the exception of your cousin, the loathsome Bertie Ekstrom, who nearly succeeded?”
She pointed her eyes toward the ceiling. “Well, but for horrid, Mr. Ekstrom, I’m only yours.”
“What’s he given her?” Benedict shouted and leaned over, squinting. It would appear another Adamson sibling was in need of spectacles. The boy wrinkled his nose. “I’ll never understand a lady’s fascination with jewelry.”
Lord Michael Knightly cuffed the boy under the chin. “Some day you will, Benedict.”
Lady Aldora glared up at her husband. “I never had need of a jewelry.”
“Nor I!” Katherine intoned, with equal indignation. She looked to Bainbridge, a challenge in her brown eyes. Her husband, the duke had sense enough to say nothing on the matter.
Harry inclined his head. “I imagine each of you had need of some jewelry.”
The Adamson sisters’ three furious stares swung toward Harry.