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Gawain took a pull of his ale. “If I knew for certain we were headed in the right direction, I might spend the brass.”

“Those old ladies lost us good.” Whitely ordered a pint and stared out the window. “ Bloody hell! ” He jumped up and dashed out of the inn. Moments later, he ran back in. “I just saw them.”

“The dowagers?” Gawain couldn’t believe his good luck.

“The very same. Recognized the coach right away.” Whitely grinned. “We won’t catch ’em at the speed they’re goin’, but we’re headed the right way.”

Gawain drained his mug and ordered another. An hour later they were on the road toward Edinburgh. His plan would work after all.

Kit woke as the sun crested the horizon, and smiled. Finally, in a few hours, he’d be wed to Mary. Hopping out of bed, he tugged the bell-pull. Fortunately, Piggott was an early riser and would already be awake.

Piggott entered carrying a pitcher of water. “You’re up betimes.”

“It’s my wedding day.”

“Would you like a bath?”

Only if Mary was in it. “Not at present. Please have Lady Mary’s maid wake her.

I shall also require—” Kit had to think.

Who would least object to being woken at sunrise?

“Lord and Lady Huntley.” Surely the others would forgive him for allowing them to sleep; after all, the children had been fussy.

“They will need to attend her ladyship and me.”

Piggott nodded. “I shall see to it.”

An hour later, Kit, Mary, Caro, and Huntley met in Lord Titus’s study. Mary and Kit signed the settlement documents, and their friends witnessed the signatures.

Caro hugged Mary. “This almost reminds me of when Gervais and I wed.”

“Absent a marquis who should have been in Bedlam,” her husband commented dryly .

Caro smiled softly. “As bad as he was, without him we would not have married.”

Huntley’s arm snaked around her waist. “Very true, and I would not have the most wonderful wife in the world.”

Mary glanced at Kit and grinned. No lady could be a better wife for him than Mary. “When do you think the church will open? I’d rather have a more regular wedding.”

Piggott knocked, then entered. “I have ascertained that one of the clergymen at St. Giles’s Cathedral will be expecting you.”

Someone had been busy on their behalf. Kit wondered if it was Lady Theo. At least he knew where the church was. He and Mary had toured it. “We will depart in a moment.”

His valet bowed. “The carriage will be waiting.” Piggott paused for a moment. “You also have chambers at the King’s Arms, not far from the church. Lady Theo left a message saying your wedding breakfast will be held to-morrow.”

Kit had his answer, yet why the hotel? Then the light dawned.

This was Scotland. The marriage had to be consummated.

Mary had been bold last night, but he didn’t know how she would take being with him for the first time when she was aware that the whole house would know what they were doing. The hotel was a good idea.

“Thank her ladyship for me.” He took Mary’s hand. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” She nodded, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she did when she was nervous. “I am.”

They made their way to the coach waiting in front of the house. Kit had a sudden feeling of rightness. No matter what happened, he and Mary were meant to be together.

The carriage traveled through the busy streets, until they reached the sixteenth-century gray stone church. One of the footmen accompanying them hopped off the coach, went to a small wooden side door, and knocked. A few moments later it opened a crack, then opened wider.

“Here we go.” Kit jumped down and gently lifted Mary to the pavement.

They were ushered in, and the quiet of the place stunned him.

Other than the church they’d stopped at on their way up, he’d never been in one that was so empty.

Even the day they’d visited, there were people around.

Their steps echoed, adding to the gravity of the union they were about to enter into.

“Good morning to you.” A young, rosy-cheeked man greeted them. “I’m one of the vicars. I hear you wish to wed.”

The juxtaposition of the old church and the young rector struck Kit. What he and Mary were about to do was new to them, yet as old as time. “We do.”

“If you’re ready, I’ll begin.”

“Do you not need our names first?” Kit asked.

The man seemed taken aback. “You’re Mr. Christopher Adolphus James Frederick Featherton, are you not?”

“I am.”

The rector turned to Mary. “And you are Mary Elizabeth Constance Gertrude Isabel Tolliver. Is that correct?”

“It is.”

“Gertrude?” Kit whispered.

“Don’t remind me. She was an aunt.”

“I have nothing against the name at all. In fact, that was the name of the aunt who left me Rose Hill.”

Mary’s eyes widened. “Truly?”

“On my honor,” Kit replied. He wondered briefly if she were one and the same. Odder things had been known to happen. He’d have to ask his grandmother, if he ever decided to speak to her again.

“Shall we begin?” the vicar asked.

Mary and Kit faced one another. Her fingers trembled a bit, but he pressed on them, comforting her.

Although the vicar was right next to them, she had trouble hearing him over her pounding heart.

Then Kit smiled, and promised to love, honor, and cherish her all the days of their lives, and she believed he meant every word.

He held her gaze with his as she said her vows to him.

She’d forgotten all about the ring until he slipped it on her finger, and whispered, “My mother sent more. You can choose another if you’d like.”

Mary didn’t want another one. It was perfect. Rubies and diamonds set into a wide gold band, and Kit had selected it for her.

“Sir, could you please repeat, ‘with this ring I thee wed’?”

“Sorry.” He grinned. “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship. ”

That was the part she wondered about. She must have missed the rest, because a few moments later, they were pronounced man and wife.

Mary, Kit, Caro, and Huntley signed the register.

The vicar shook Kit’s hand. “I wish you a long and happy life.”

“Thank you.”

As they left the church through the same small side door, he wrapped his arm around Mary’s waist.

She had no idea what to say. Fortunately, Caro came to her rescue. “I realize it is early, but I think champagne is in order. Shall we repair to the hotel?”

“Excellent idea, my love.” Huntley placed her hand on his arm.

Kit held Mary’s hand as they walked the two blocks to the King’s Arms.

They entered the massive lobby. Marble columns and a carved ceiling added to the feeling of space. The carpet was thick, cushioning their steps.

A tall, slender man dressed in black greeted them. “Mr. Featherton and Lady Mary, I presume?” Kit gave a curt nod. “I am Mr. Maitland. If you will please follow me.”

He led them up one set of stairs to a room with a large parlor.

Although it was not that chilly, a fire blazed in the hearth.

On a round table, champagne, fruit, cheese, and bread had been laid out.

He handed Kit the key. “There will be a runner stationed in the hall if you are in need of anything. He will call your servants, who have rooms at the end of the corridor.”

“I had no idea hotels were so opulent,” Mary said as she took in the furnishings.

“This rivals the Putney,” Kit responded. “I’ll pour the champagne.”

He pulled out a chair for her, as did Huntley for Caro.

Mary took a plate, placing cheese, bread, and strawberries on it. “I’m famished.”

“As am I,” Caro responded, taking some of the food. “It’s too bad they do not have chocolate.”

The cork popped. Kit handed her a glass. Once the others had theirs as well, Huntley raised his flute. “To Kit and Lady Mary Featherton, may your married life be as happy as mine. ”

Caro punched him playfully in the side. “We wish you much happiness. The more I saw you together, the more confident I was that you belonged with each other.”

“Here, here.” Huntley raised his glass. “As one more of us falls to the parson’s mousetrap.”

“Indeed?” Caro arched a brow, and probably would have clobbered him if he hadn’t been looking at her with so much love.

Kit slid his chair closer, putting an arm round Mary’s shoulders. “I, for one, am glad to be caught. I cannot imagine a lovelier bride.”

“Nor I a more handsome husband.”

They toasted again, and ate. Once they’d finished the wine, Caro and Huntley took their leave.

Kit leaned over and kissed Mary. “Are you happy?”

“Never more so.”

“Come, my lady.”