Page 27 of A Spinster for the Rakish Duke (Notorious Sisters of London #3)
Chapter Twenty-Six
“ C ome in, Your Grace, please; no need to hesitate. The best thing you’ll do for both of us is let the cold in at that pace,” Mr. Bradford laughed heartily and waved Donovan into his office.
The Bradford patriarch’s office had been shut tight since he had left to mission.
Now he limped lightly about, supporting himself with a finely polished cane of dark wood.
Emma had expressed worry soon after his return, but the old man had waved it off in favor of a jubilant reunion.
He was now moving back and forth through the warm musty office, grabbing various papers, and tossing them into the fire.
“Funny what you think you’ll need when you return after being gone so many months.
” He laughed lightly, tossing more papers.
“Most of this is useless now; don’t even remember what some of it was for. ”
“Don’t even have to go away for that to happen to me sometimes,” Donovan remarked, summoning another dry chuckle from the older man.
Finally, Mr. Bradford, the elder, made his way to the high back chair behind the desk. “Well, what can I do for you, Your Grace?” he asked politely.
“Mr. Bradford? You are the one who arranged this meeting?” Donovan remarked quizzically.
“I suppose, technically I did, but had I not done so, would you have?” the reverend asked.
Donovan nodded slowly, “I think it is important to meet with the father of one's bride-to-be. Do you not?”
Mr. Bradford considered for a moment. “All of my children are very smart, Your Grace. I trust them to choose wisely and soundly for themselves when it comes to marriage. Only one of them has ended up in a sticky situation, and it was one I could not have foreseen. Plus, Martha sorted that out for herself perfectly fine, I think,” he said with a wink.
Donovan had not heard the whole story but knew Martha had been widowed and had remarried to the Earl of Barristen, who Donovan had not met personally but had heard many good things about.
“So... you have no concerns about me? Or questions for me?” Donovan asked, a bit unsure.
“Well, a father always has concerns,” Mr. Bradford nodded. “Admittedly, I am most concerned with the whereabouts of my son Benjamin at the moment. But Emma tells me that the two of you will continue to look for him as soon as the wedding is sorted out. That’s good.”
Mr. Bradford nodded with approval. “But truth be told, Emma has always been the best judge of character, so even if Benjamin was sitting in the other room, I probably would assume you a fine gentleman. A Duke, no less. My, the Bradford family certainly has a way of finding itself attached to many a fine family. I wonder if my only son will somehow find his way into the arms of a Lady,” he laughed.
Donovan thought of Jenny and the nonexistent chances that she held a title but decided that Benjamin’s privacy was best protected in that instance and chose not to bring her up at all. “Do you worry about Benjamin, Mr. Bradford?” Donovan asked, his mind drifting to his love’s missing brother.
“My son has a fine head on his shoulders but, like I said before, a father cares, and a father worries. I pray for him many times a day, and I put my son’s fate in the hands of God,” he said a bit solemnly. “That is all I can do for now.”
Donovan nodded, letting a proper silence settle in before changing the subject. “And the marriage? It has your blessing to move forward?”
“Of course, of course, Your Grace. I want my Emma to do what makes her most happy.” The older man leaned in a playfully conspiratorial manner.
“I always spoiled her a bit though you couldn’t tell.
Couldn’t help it. She looked the most like their mother of the three of them.
Gave my broken heart a soft spot when it healed.
” He gave another laugh, this one a tad sadder than the rest had been.
Donovan nodded, feeling sadness grip him. “She told me she lost her mother at an early age. I can relate; both of my parents died when I was young.”
“Shame. Such a tragic thing to happen to children, to lose one parent let alone both. Was your loss sudden?” Mr. Bradford asked.
Donovan nodded. “It was supposedly a carriage accident.”
Mr. Bradford arched an eyebrow at the Duke’s wording but didn’t press the matter.
“The same for my dear wife. She took a fall from a cliff one day while picking berries.” A pained look crossed the older man’s face but quickly passed.
“Look at me, a codger looking to linger on the past when we have such a bright future ahead of us to plan.”
Donovan smiled, weakly at first but it quickly grew in strength. “I couldn’t have said it better myself, Mr. Bradford.”
The wedding would be a simple affair. Emma had only Martha, her father, and her aunt in attendance.
Her father, who would be performing the marriage, couldn’t even be officially counted amongst the guests.
The only one in attendance from Donovan’s side would be Mr. Herst. His brother’s absence was not brought up by anyone there with knowledge enough of the Duke to notice his absence, which was very few people.
The meal prepared for after the ceremony was anything but simple. Though they had but a humble kitchen, the wedding dinner that had been planned by the Bradford’s had already been lavish, and Donovan supplemented with his own cooks and means.
The decorations, too, had been supplemented by Donovan. Before arrangements of spring, wildflowers had been tied together lovingly. Now banners and silks put on rush order all the way from London accented everything.
It was a more beautiful wedding than Emma could ever hope for.
And though Harriet’s and Benjamin’s absence weighed heavily on her heart, the opportunity to be married by her father was something she used to imagine as a young girl.
The fairy tale wedding before her felt almost impossible compared to her resignation to spinsterhood less than half a year ago.
Letting herself find happiness had worked out better than she would have dreamed.
Looking back, she wished that the bliss of that moment, that assumption that life could no longer harm her, could have lasted forever. Sadly, it wasn’t meant to be.
They stood before their witnesses, sun shining above them in the late morning.
Donovan was dressed in floral greens, accented by gold thread.
Emma was in a dress of deep blue hues that made it hard for Donovan to look away from her.
Emma’s father read through the simple ceremony.
There was a small pause when the priest asked a normal question, one that no one expected there to be an answer to.
“If there are any objections to this marriage, speak now, or forever hold your peace.”
“This man is not fit for this marriage,” came the cry.
The words had come from Mr. Dole, who entered followed by two brutish constables close in tow.
Emma wasn’t sure if she was angrier or more devastated by the sudden intrusion onto her perfect moment. It turned out there was no need to settle on either emotion as Donovan was angry enough for the both of them.
“Mr. Dole, I will give you one chance to put an end to this foolishness. I warn you, I may be less overt than some of my fellow Dukes, but I will not hesitate to use my full power to make sure you suffer the consequences of this egregious act.” Donovan was seething.
“A vile threat from a vile man,” Dole countered, then spoke to the group as a whole. “Why do you think I arrive with the constables at my back? They are here for you, Your Grace.” And at Mr. Dole’s gesture, the two hulking figures secured Donovan, each of them grabbing him by one arm.
“What is the meaning of this?” Emma cried.
Mr. Dole pointed at Donovan. “The Duke of Lowe is the one responsible for your missing brother, Miss Bradford. His Grace kidnapped Benjamin Bradford and has been hiding him from you to leverage your agreement into marrying him.”
“That is utterly absurd,” Donovan shouted angrily.
“You can’t just go spinning tales and pinning crimes on people,” Mr. Herst followed up and moved to Donovan’s defense, one of the constables shoving him aside.
“I have proof. Letters, in regard to the young man’s kidnapping and detainment. His Grace always had issues with solicitors. It turns out that he blamed Mr. Bradford for the death of his parents. We have a witness, too, from the Inn of Courts, another man.”
“Letters, witnesses, all of that can be manufactured,” Mr. Herst continued before he turned to the constables. “Did this man tell you that he was engaged to the woman whose marriage you just stopped? That he has a motive outside of justice?”
“If you won’t believe the evidence before you, that’s fine,” Mr. Dole asserted. “We can ask Mr. Bradford himself. I know for a fact he is being kept in His Grace’s wine cellar.