Page 17 of The Lyon’s Last Gamble (The Lyon’s Den Connected World #80)

I t had been two days since he and Whitney had nearly come together in the carriage. Since then, they had both agreed that it would be best if they waited until after they were married to go any further.

Today, the day had finally arrived. The days had seemed to drag on forever.

The magistrate had arrived a short while ago, and they only waited for Whitney to descend the stairs with her mother.

Christopher found the wait excruciating. But once he got a glimpse of the lass, his breath caught in his throat. The wait was well worth it for the vision appearing in front of him.

She was beautiful. The satin gown she wore fit her perfectly and accentuated her slim figure. Her hair was piled high on her head, and he had a vision of pulling out the pins one by one later, watching her hair cascade down her shoulders tendril by tendril.

He caught her gaze, and her smile was dazzling. For a brief moment, he felt a surge of guilt for not inviting his brother. But Alexander would be an issue that he would deal with later. He didn’t want those memories sullying the memories of his wedding.

Whitney didn’t deserve that. She deserved his full attention, and she would have it.

Once she joined him at his side, and he took her hand in his, the ceremony was a whirlwind. Brief, it only lasted a few short minutes before they were pronounced man and wife, and they kissed in front of her parents and the magistrate. Sealing their lives together for the remainder of their time on earth.

It was surprising that he had looked forward to the union. Last week he would have sworn up and down he would never marry—or at least not any time soon. But here he was, a week later, most definitely married.

And to the most beautiful woman he had ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes upon. The morn was early and they had decided the night before that they would stay at Colthrop Hall for tonight. Tomorrow they would start the journey to Scotland.

“Are you happy, Christopher?” Whitney asked beside him, her brow creased with worry.

He smiled, casting away thoughts best kept for another day. “Splendidly so. Are ye?”

“I am. I don’t know if I should be, but I am.”

He laughed at that. “We do make an odd couple, do we no’?” He dipped his head in her parent’s direction. “Your parents, however, seem elated.”

She giggled. “They have wanted to see me wed for so long. Look at what they went through to see that it happened?”

“I have ne’er been happier to have a gambling habit.”

Her mouth dropped open.

“Dinna fash, lass. ’Tis only because it brought me to ye. Without it, I wouldna find myself here with ye in my arms and calling ye wife.”

She lifted on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “Do that again,” she whispered near his ear.

“Do what again?”

“Call me your wife,” she demanded devilishly.

With an arm around her waist, he pulled her close, so she was flush against his chest. “Wife,” he growled.

With a squeal, she squirmed in his arms.

Her father cleared his throat. “Well, it appears that you two newlyweds are ready to be alone.”

“Papa!” Whitney exclaimed.

He held his hands up in defense. “It is not a bad thing, dearest daughter. I am thrilled beyond measure to see you happy. And I have confidence that whatever may cross your path, you both will handle it well and come out victorious. Now, come here.” He opened his arms and she went to him for a hug that only a father could give his daughter.

Perhaps it was something Christopher could look forward to with his own daughter. “Congratulations.” Adam kissed the top of Whitney’s head. “Your mother and I are very happy for you.”

Lady Watkins stepped in to hug Whitney, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

Sir Watkins approached him. “Thank you for treating my daughter with respect. Your face glows whenever you lay eyes upon her. That’s all I ever wanted for Whitney. For someone to look at her the same way I look at her mother.”

Christopher bowed. “Thank ye, sir.”

“Your carriage awaits,” Sir Watkins announced.

As they walked to the door, he quickly pulled Christopher aside, slipping an envelope into his hands. “The first three months of allowance that was promised in the contract. It should be more than enough to get you both settled and to enjoy your honeymoon.”

He slipped the envelope in his jacket pocket. “Thank ye.”

Joining Whitney, who was already seated in the carriage, he kissed her hand.

“What was that about? With my father?”

“Och, ’twas naught. He was just giving me some fatherly advice,” Christopher lied. Not wanting to dampen the mood. “Now, wife. Let us get home.”

She smiled happily. “I look forward to that very much.”