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" A re you all right?" Cressida asked softly, taking Victoria's arm.

Victoria didn't know how to answer. It felt surreal to her that she was standing here—yet again—in a wedding gown, about to marry a gentleman she hardly knew.

"Tell me what you're thinking," Cressida urged.

"I'm thinking…I'm thinking it's not as bad as last time," Victoria said.

"Is that truly your feelings about your wedding day? That it could be worse?"

"It could be much worse. At least Henry is someone I care about. I may not love him, but at least I can think of him as a friend. And I know he respects me, and that's something I've rarely gotten from a gentleman before. So yes, this could be much worse."

"You don't have to go through with this, you know," Cressida said softly. "If you choose to leave, no one will be angry or upset with you."

"Of course they will be. Henry will be upset, even if no one else is—and who could blame him?"

"Well, that doesn't mean you have to marry him. If you don't want to do this, we can leave right now—you and me and Matthew. We can take you home, and you don't have to go through with it."

"I do have to go through with it," Victoria said. "I agreed to do this. I made a promise. I can't back out of it now."

"You know I would support you, though, if that was your choice," Cressida told her."

"I know you would," Victoria assured her sister. "And believe me, your support means everything to me. I don't know what I would do without you, especially on a day like this one."

"You won't have to find out," Cressida said. "I'll be here for you always, no matter what happens." She took Victoria's hand. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"Not at all sure—but I'm going to," Victoria said with a sigh. "I've made my decision."

"Very well," Cressida agreed. "If that's what you want, that's what we'll do. Come. It's time."

She led Victoria toward the doors that opened into the church. Victoria's heart hammered. Her thoughts were screaming. Don't do it! Go back!

But there was no good reason for that, she told herself firmly. Her desire to back out of this had nothing to do with Henry and everything to do with the trauma of her own past. He was a good man. Things would be different with him—she was sure of it.

The doors opened, and there he stood at the front of the church, beaming at her.

She didn't know when she had ever seen anyone look so purely happy.

That ought to have relaxed her, she thought.

The fact that he was so overjoyed at the prospect of their impending marriage was surely evidence that he was the kind of man who would treat her properly.

And yet, instead of feeling bolstered, her heart sank at the sight of him.

This was to be her future, and she didn't want it.

She would have preferred anything else to this, she thought suddenly. Even though he was a good man—even though this was probably the best match she could have made—it would have been better to be alone than to be married to one man while she was in love with another.

She wished she had never met James. She had been so happy on her own before he had entered her life.

She'd wanted for nothing, and she hadn't imagined that she could want for anything.

In those days, if anyone had posed the question, she would have told them that her life was perfect, and that she wouldn't change a thing.

Meeting James had woken her up to all she was missing, had made her realize how good love could feel. And now that she knew it, she wished she had never learned that lesson, for it would grieve her until the end of her days.

Henry, meanwhile, was plainly blissfully unaware of the complicated thoughts racing through her mind. He continued to beam at her as she walked down the aisle.

Victoria wished she could slow her pace to a crawl. She wished the aisle would extend itself for miles so that she would never reach him.

It would never happen. But she wished for it all the same.

And then, just as she was drawing so near to him—and to her fate—that she felt as if she might be sick with the nerves of it all, she heard a bang from the back of the room.

She jumped and spun around to see what the noise was—and there stood James.

He was disheveled, as if he had just been running. His jacket was askew, and his hair was a mess. There was dust on his white collar.

Victoria stared. What was he doing here? She had been sure that he wasn't planning on attending the wedding at all, and now here he was. Had he come here at the last minute out of a desire to watch her marry?

She realized, suddenly, that she'd taken comfort in the fact that he wasn't there. She had allowed herself to believe that it meant today would be difficult for him to face—that he hadn't been able to bring himself to attend. But he was here after all. What did that mean?

"Stop," he said, his voice hoarse. "Stop the wedding."

"I beg your pardon, Your Grace?" Henry said. "What's the meaning of this?"

James ignored Henry altogether. He hurried up the aisle to Victoria and placed his hands on her shoulders. He searched her eyes. "Are you all right?"

"Of course," she said, mystified. "I'm fine. Why do you ask? What's this about?"

"You can't marry him," James said roughly.

"But you told me to. You wanted me to marry him."

"And now I'm telling you not to."

"James, what?—?"

"He isn't marrying you for your sake," James said. "He's doing it to protect himself. He's doing it to make sure he's never investigated and convicted of the crimes he's committed."

"I don't know what this is about—" Henry spoke up.

"You do know what it's about," James shot back. "And I would advise you, sir, not to say anything more right now. The constables are already on their way, and you can explain this to them when they arrive."

Henry's eyes widened. He looked around as if searching for an exit, but the only door was the one James had just entered through, and Henry would have had to walk right past James to get to it.

Based on the set of James' jaw and the way he held his hands clenched into fists, it seemed obvious to Victoria that he was spoiling for a fight.

She didn't blame Henry for not wanting to get close.

"What's going on?" she asked him. "Why are you suddenly against this marriage?"

"I'm sorry. I know I'm the one who pushed it on you, but that was before I learned what I know now."

"Before you learned what?"

James drew a breath. "He's the one who killed my cousin."

Victoria looked at Henry. His eyes had narrowed in obvious anger and dislike, but he didn't look remotely shocked by the accusation.

"Why do you say that?" she asked James.

"I say it because it's the truth," James told her.

"I didn't know until today. I had been looking through my ledgers recently, the books I inherited from my cousin, and I knew there was something wrong, but I couldn't make any sense of it.

I didn't know what it was that was giving me such an uneasy feeling.

That is, not until today, when I spotted a familiar name—Leopold Hartigan. "

"Who is Leopold Hartigan?"

"An underground purveyor of poisons. He was the man who sold the poison to my stepmother that she tried to use to kill me.

I haven't thought about the name in years.

But it was on my late cousin's books a week before his death—books that, I've come to realize, were managed by his business partner, Lord Harbury! "

"You're saying?—?"

"I'm saying Lord Harbury purchased a poison from Leopold Harrigan, and a week later, my late cousin was dead of an unknown affliction.

But I know now what the affliction was—he was poisoned.

And right after that, a large sum of money was transferred out of the dukedom's holdings, and I am sure that when the constables check Lord Harbury's personal accounts, they will find it. "

He took Victoria's hand in his own, and she shivered slightly at the pure pleasure of his touch.

"He is a murderer," James said quietly. "I should never have tried to marry you to him—I certainly never would have if I had realized sooner what he was. But now that I know, I will die myself before I allow this wedding to continue."

The doors opened once more. This time, a pair of constables entered, along with Maxwell the butler, who Victoria could only suppose must have been the one sent to fetch them.

"There he is," James announced, pointing to Henry. "That's the man."

"Yes, Your Grace," one of the constables said, and they moved toward Henry. He looked around frantically once more, but he must have understood that he had no hope of escape, for he didn't try to run away. The constables reached him, and he allowed them to seize him and lead him from the room.

Victoria watched him go, feeling stunned by everything that had happened. Her head spun, and her knees felt weak. She had been mere moments away from marriage to Henry—no, to Lord Harbury. She would not call him by his name now, for he had never been the person he had pretended he was.

But whoever he was, she had been about to marry him. If James had been even a minute later, she would have married him. He had saved her from a marriage to a murderer, but it had been so close…

"Victoria!" James' arms were around her, and she realized that her legs had given out beneath her. He guided her to a pew and helped her to sit. "Are you all right?" he asked her.

"I don't know," she admitted, feeling breathless and anxious.

"Of course you're not," he said. "My goodness, how could you be? You're in shock, and it's completely understandable. But you're safe now. I hope you know that. He's gone."

"I just…I can't quite believe this. He seemed so kind." She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. "I am a terrible judge of character."

"Well, I could have told you that." He smiled at her warmly, and that smile was so welcome and relieving that she felt as if she might melt. "I could have told you that from the moment I realized you had judged me favorably."

"No," Victoria corrected him. "I did judge you wrongly, but it was my early judgment of you that was mistaken, not my final one.

I was wrong about you when I thought you were nothing more than a selfish man who cared not at all for anyone other than yourself.

Now I see that that couldn't have been further from the truth.

James, you encouraged me to marry Lord Harbury?—"

"The biggest mistake I could have made!"

"Perhaps, but you did it out of compassion. You did it because you wanted me to have a good match, even if…even if it meant letting me go yourself."

He gazed into her eyes. "My strength has failed me, I'm afraid," he told her. "I won't be able to send you away again. It hurt too much the first time."

"You needn't worry about that," she assured him with a smile. "I wouldn't leave you even if you did."