Page 21 of Falling for the Earl (Improper Ladies #2)
A s they left the church in Piccadilly, which Hugh had suggested would be perfect for the wedding, Lucy turned to him. “The minister was a nice gentleman. “But your mother might wish for something grander. Still, it is such a pretty church. I should love us to be married here. Would it be too small?”
He smiled as he took her arm. “Then we shall have a small wedding.” He bent and whispered against her ear, “And the sooner, the better.”
Lucy flushed at the promise in his eyes, fearing everyone around them could read their thoughts. But something still nagged at her.
While the Marquess of Berwick’s health showed little improvement, it was now an accepted fact that her father stood next in line for the Kerwick fortune. “What will society make of my declaration that Papa was the heir when he clearly wasn’t then? I hope it doesn’t impact your family,” she said to Hugh when they’d settled in the coach. “Will your mother be upset?”
He smiled down at her his eyes soft. “Mama is delighted we are marrying. I believe my betrothal to Isabel, arranged by my father and Sir Phillip Ashton so many years ago, worried her a good deal. Do not concern yourself, my love. As my countess, you can hold your head up in society and let them think what they will.”
Lucy laughed and shook her head.
At the end of the week, Hugh drove to Bath and brought her father back with him. He stayed with Lucy at Aunt Mary’s townhouse.
“Life holds many surprises, doesn’t it, Lucy?” he said as they sat together in the garden enjoying a hint of summer in the air. He smiled. “I was confident you would find a good man, although I didn’t expect someone quite as remarkable as Hugh.”
She smiled. “Nor did I, Papa.”
The door opened and Aunt Mary emerged carrying Lucy’s father’s hat. The maid followed with a tray of lemonade. “The sun is quite hot today,” Aunt Mary said, handing the hat to Papa.
It amused Lucy how much Aunt Mary bustled around him, seeing to Papa’s every comfort. Perhaps she had revised her opinion of him, or was so delighted her niece was to marry an earl that it rendered any criticisms she’d had of him in the past irrelevant. Whatever the reason, Lucy could only be grateful.
If her aunt was disappointed that the wedding was not to be a grand affair held at St. George’s, but the small church in Piccadilly, with only close friends and family present, she didn’t say so. Lucy appreciated the help she gave her, choosing the white, satin wedding gown and the wisp of white net to dress Lucy’s hair, as well as the dowager countess’s diamond tiara. Sarah would be Lucy’s attendant wearing a white muslin gown. Luke was to be Hugh’s best man. Their wedding breakfast would be held at Dorchester House.
Lucy smiled. It was going to be a perfect day, and she would be the wife of the man she loved dearly, something she’d never dreamed was possible.
*
Before the altar, with his groomsmen, Luke and Ross, beside him, Hugh watched the lovely young lady in white satin advance down the aisle on her father’s arm. A vision, soon to be his wife. His heart turned over. Lucy was beautiful, but also unpredictable. She had been from the moment he first met her, at that ball in Bath where she’d told those two women off. He’d been vastly entertained when moments before he’d been counting the hours until he could decently depart the ball. And then in London, when he’d expected her to flirt and try to sway his opinion, her unprovoked confession about the lie had disarmed him, while her unaffected beauty had entranced him. He desired her with every breath in his body, and God willing, should he spend the next fifty or more years in her company, she would still surprise him, and at times, rob him of breath.
She came to stand beside him, and he gazed into her deep, velvety-brown eyes. “My love,” he murmured, after her proud father had placed her in Hugh’s care and taken his seat.
Her bridesmaids, Sarah, in white muslin, and a lady in pink, Mrs. Alice Gaskill, Lucy’s married friend from Bath who’d come to London to take part in the celebration, joined Luke and Mr. Kershaw in the front pew. Sarah’s blue eyes glowed with pleasure, her face less strained and thin, making him aware of how much better she was now that Cardew was gone from her life, and Luke was firmly in it.
Hugh turned to the vicar, who then began the ceremony.