Page 50 of The Song of the Siren (The Venturesome Ladies of Little Valentine #2)

With this ring.

“Almighty God, who at the beginning did create our first parents, Adam and Eve, and did sanctify and join them together in marriage, pour upon you the riches of his grace, sanctify and bless you, that ye may please him both in body and soul, and live together in holy love unto your lives' end. Amen !”

The Reverend Honeywell spoke the words with such relish that Stonehaven could only grin.

They had already been pronounced man and wife, and Stonehaven had duly and enthusiastically kissed his bride, but the temptation to do so again was too much.

So, he reached for her once more, much to the delight of the congregation, that being made almost entirely of his staff, plus Anne, Isabelle, George, and Clementine and Beau.

Their arrival had made the day entirely perfect, though he had not deigned to tell his best friend that just yet.

Amid whoops of joy and much clapping and laughter, Stonehaven reluctantly released his bride, who he felt certain was blushing prettily.

“Well, my Lady Stonehaven,” he said, feeling a depth of satisfaction he would not be able to articulate if he lived to be a hundred.

Happiness did not seem to be an adequate word, nor even joy, though that emotion bubbled up inside him.

“You are to be congratulated. I am a splendid catch, you understand.”

“Oh, I do indeed, and I shall never stop thanking my lucky stars, I promise you,” she told him, her voice the perfect mixture of sincerity and teasing laughter.

He grinned as he allowed her to lead him back down the aisle, having relinquished his stick for the ceremony. George hurried up to him the moment they walked out into the sunshine though, pressing the walking stick back into his hand.

“Congratulations, my lord,” he said, his voice warm. “I know you’ll be happy together.”

Stonehaven reached out, grasping George’s hand and shaking it, making sure his staff saw the esteem in which he held this man.

He knew it could be difficult, entering into a world of the like George had never known before, and wished to be certain no one doubted George’s importance among the hierarchy.

He may have been a gardener once, but now he was the Marquess of Stonehaven’s most trusted ally, and they had better get used to that.

“Thank you, George. I hope you are settling in to Haven House well?”

“I am, my lord, I thank you. There’s a pretty little kitchen maid who’s agreed to walk out with me too.”

“Oh ho. Fast work, George. I approve,” he said, laughing as George chuckled and let him go to speak to his guests.

“Well, well. I never thought I’d see the day,” drawled a familiar voice.

“Yes, you did,” Stonehaven replied with a snort. “It was I who was blind to my fate, and that was before the accident.”

“Ah well, I cannot tell you how glad I am,” Beaumarsh said, sounding so utterly sincere Stonehaven could not bring himself to make a sarcastic retort. He was too glad himself to make insincere jokes.

“No more than I am, nor to have such a friend as you, Beau. I know I was a belligerent arsehole and a damned fool. I hope you can forgive me.”

Beau laughed outright at that confession.

“Oh, going to change, are you?” he said provokingly.

“No, no, don’t eat me. I’m only teasing.

There’s nothing to forgive. I’m just so pleased for you, and for Bea.

Clementine told me the poor girl was head over ears for you, and I feared she would get her heart broken. ”

“We so nearly didn’t make it happen, it makes me sick to consider it,” Stonehaven admitted. “If not for her bravery—” He shuddered at the thought.

“For both your bravery,” Beau amended. “I’m damned proud of you, Stonehaven. Truly. You are a remarkable fellow, and I am honoured to call you my friend.”

Stonehaven blinked, uncertain what to say to this and fearing he would either make light of it or say something appallingly sentimental. Instead, he changed the subject.

“Beau?”

“Yes?”

“Do something for me.”

“Anything, old man,” Beaumarsh said at once.

“Describe my bride,” Stonehaven said.

“Ah,” Beaumarsh sighed. “Well, besides my darling Clemmie, I have never seen a more ravishing creature. She is dressed in pale gold silk, elegantly trimmed with Brussels lace, the sapphires you gave her are sparkling around her throat, but not half so brightly as her eyes. Her hair is like spun gold and—”

“Yes, yes, all right. Anymore and I might think you’re in love with her too,” Stonehaven said gruffly, though in truth he was more than pleased by Beau’s description.

“Oh, no, but I am delighted to call her my sister, and you, I’m afraid, are now my dearest brother.”

Stonehaven made a great show of bemoaning this announcement and pretending he needed to rethink the entire affair.

“Do stop teasing poor Beau when he has been so very kind to you,” Bea chided him, reclaiming her position at his side, her hand finding his. “It’s time for the wedding breakfast. Are you ready?”

He turned towards her, squeezing her fingers. “With you beside me, I am ready for anything, ready for adventure, for whatever the future holds.”

“Well, for the moment it’s just some delicious food and cutting the cake, too much champagne and watching Papa dancing with whoever will stand up with him. After that…well, I’m game if you are.”

“Promises, promises,” Stonehaven murmured.

“I have made a good many promises today, my lord. I mean to keep everyone of them,” his lovely bride whispered, her breath tickling his ear and making him shiver.

“Can we skip breakfast?” he asked hopefully.

Laughing, Bea pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Rogue.”

“My lovely siren,” he countered. “Lead on then. I am eager to begin, and if ever you lose me in the crowd, or in that blasted house, don’t forget to sing.”