Page 8 of Hearts at Home
EPILOGUE
C hloe was being dressed for her wedding. She was to be married in the Minster, by the Archbishop of York in person. It was all very grand, but—as Haverford’s duchess pointed out—she and Dom were all that mattered, not the surroundings or the illustrious marriage celebrant and congregation.
The duchess was helping her prepare this morning. She and the duke had set off for York as soon as they had received Dom’s letter announcing his betrothal, and the couple’s intention to wed in the week after the York races.
They had picked the date and location to make it easy for the Seahaven ladies to attend the wedding, though Martin suggested marrying in the parish church near the Tavistock estate, and Pevenwood offered to host the wedding at his own home, where Dom had spent most of his childhood. Gary put in a bid for London, where Dom would be able to present his wife to the ton , and both Pevenwood and Martin liked that idea.
Dom was only half-joking when he suggested they run off in the night to his own estate and wed there, just the two of them.
Chloe told him it had to be York. She wanted Susana present to see Chloe in the dress Susana had designed and made for her. She wanted Doro to stand up with her. She wanted Patience and all her stepdaughters, especially Emma and Merry, to be there to share her day.
And now they were here, in her bedchamber, as many as could squeeze into the room. Susana stood by with the gown. It was a confection of peach with an overdress of silver net, embroidered with pearls and trimmed with Brussels lace.
Emma and Merry perched side-by-side on the bed, in their best clothes, watching everything that was happening. Doro and Barbara stood over Chloe, dressing her hair while Patience and the duchess hovered close by to offer suggestions and comments.
When Pevenwood accepted that Chloe and Dom were adamant, he announced that he would hold a grand wedding breakfast for them after the ceremony. Then the Haverfords sailed up the coast from London in the duke’s private yacht, landing at Hull. The duke also wanted to host his half-brother’s wedding breakfast, and assured Chloe and Dom that his estate outside of York would be a much better venue than Pevenwood’s hotel.
Pevenwood pointed out that Haddow Hall was at least an hour from York, whereas his hotel was just around the corner from the little church of Holy Trinity, where the couple planned to be married.
The marquess and the duke descended into a wrangle, all the more intense for being conducted in polite gentlemanly drawls, until Her Grace informed them both that Lord Tavistock would host the wedding breakfast for his own sister, and they could find something else to do to show that they respected and esteemed the half-brother they shared.
Whereupon, Pevenwood and Haverford offered to go together to the Archbishop to acquire the necessary common license, and before anyone else knew what they were about, they had arranged for York Minster and the Archbishop.
Susana and Doro settled the gown over Chloe’s head, being careful not to disturb her coronet of flowers or a single curl or pin in her coiffure. Chloe smiled at the memory of Pevenwood’s and Haverford’s smug faces when they returned with the news. Dom didn’t like having his own arrangements superseded, but admitted to Chloe that he was actually delighted.
“It will be something to tell our children, when we bring them into York to show them the sights.” He grinned. “And I must admit that it’s nice that my brothers wanted to do this for us.”
* * *
Dom waited in a pew at the front of the quire before the main altar in York Minster. He had arrived fifteen minutes before the time appointed for the ceremony, and he was sure at least an hour had passed. “What if something has happened to her,” he muttered to Gary, who was standing up with him as his best man.
Gary repeated the assurance he had given three times already. “Nothing has happened.” He once again checked his pocket watch. “She actually is late this time,” he acknowledged. “By two minutes. You’re very anxious to get leg shackled, brother.”
“You’ll see when it is your turn,” Dom told him.
Gary clapped a dramatic hand to his heart and fell back a step. “Cursed! My long-lost brother has cursed me!”
Dom glared, but his lips twitched. Like most bachelors, Gary had no idea that a prediction of marriage was a blessing, not a curse. Dom couldn’t wait to make Chloe his and begin his life with her at his side.
A stir around him had him turning in his seat. The Duchess of Haverford was taking her place beside her husband. The Dowager Countess of Seahaven, Lady Susana Bigglesworth and Lady Barbara Bigglesworth were joining the others of their party in their pew.
“She’s here.” The whisper was from the footman who had been posted in the porch to watch for the bride’s arrival. The Archbishop appeared from somewhere and crossed to stand facing the congregation.
Dom took his place in front of the cleric, with Gary beside him, and watched as Emma and Merry walked towards him, one after the other, their faces solemn. Doro followed. Dom saw none of them. His gaze was drawn to the beloved figure behind, being conducted up the aisle by her brother Martin.
Her lovely eyes met his and clung, and an endless moment later she was before him, placing her hand in his as the Archbishop and Martin exchanged the prescribed words. At least, Dom assumed they followed the format. His senses were filled with his bride.
“You are beautiful,” he murmured to her.
The Archbishop was explaining the purpose of marriage. Dom allowed the sonorous voice to drone on while he basked in the presence of his beloved. He collected himself in time to make the responses required of him, to speak the vows that bound him to her; to thrill to her voice speaking her vows in return.
To think it had been barely six weeks since they met. He had arrived in York to carry out a task for his illustrious half-brother, determined to leave immediately after for his new estate, to see if it could become the place of his own for which he yearned.
So much had happened since then. He met Chloe and fell in love. In winning her, he had also gained a whole family—not just her brother and her aunt, but her Seahaven connections. He had been reconciled with Pevenwood and Gary.
Dom had found his place. Not his estate. Not even his new status as the acknowledged brother of both the Marquess of Pevenwood and the Duke of Haverford, an acknowledgement refused by the fathers of both those gentlemen, and even more precious for the love with which it was tendered.
His place was at Chloe’s side. As the Archbishop proclaimed them husband and wife, he smiled down into her loving eyes. After ten years of roaming, Lord Dom had come home.
THE END
* * *
In my books, the dukes of Haverford and their legitimate sons have been scattering children on the other side of the blanket since time immemorial. Dom is one who had the good fortune to be raised in wealth. In others of my books, you can meet the two legitimate sons of the previous duke, less fortunate offspring without his acknowledgement, and his wife, the Duchess of Haverford, who has made it her mission to find and help those connected by blood to her husband and sons.
The Duke of Haverford we meet briefly in this book is Dom’s half-brother, formerly the Marquis of Aldridge. He appears in many of my books, most notably A Baron for Becky , where his career as a rakehell begins to deviate from the trajectory taken by his wicked father. In Melting Matilda , we see him as loving older brother of the heroine, and in To Tame the Wild Rake , the fourth in the series The Return of the Mountain King , he finally gets to be the hero, winning his forever lady.