Page 29 of Two Secrets to Surrender (Blackwood Legacy #2)
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A fter Gigi consented to marry by special license, Conrad went to find Owen. The news sent her brother into a state of shock, and she couldn’t blame him. It was sudden and unexpected…yet it was also the rightest thing she’d ever done.
“You ought to wait.” Owen dragged a hand through his hair. “You must speak to Papa and Mama?—”
“I want this,” Gigi said softly. “More than I’ve wanted anything.”
“They are going to murder me.” Owen’s gaze had a frantic gleam. “It was bad enough that you convinced me to escort you here. Now you want to get married ?—”
“I know it isn’t fair to put you in this position,” Gigi said. “I will accept responsibility for my actions.”
“As will I.” Conrad stood beside her…a united front. “You have my word that I will look after your sister, Lord Owen. That I will love, honor, and cherish her for the rest of my days. She will want for nothing, and I would lay down my life for her.”
Owen stared at Conrad. Then he braced his hands on his hips, his gaze directed at the ceiling while Gigi’s heart beat like a wild drum.
“You’ve made up your mind,” her brother said suddenly. “I cannot stop this, can I?”
Slowly, Gigi shook her head. “I am following our family tradition and marrying for love. I hope that you can understand…or forgive me, if you cannot. Either way, I know this is the path I’m meant to be on.”
Owen expelled a long breath.
“Who the devil am I to tell you what path to take?” he muttered. “You’ve never been lost a day in your life. Unlike me.”
“Owen—”
“Promise me this.”
He took her by the shoulders, and in that moment, he was the brother he’d been before the war. His grey gaze was focused, his posture alert. A man ready and able to protect the people he loved.
“Promise me you’re going to be happy,” he said solemnly. “The happiest of brides, as you deserve to be.”
Her voice quivering, she said, “I promise.”
“Then you have my blessing, little sister.” He kissed her forehead gently. “For what it’s worth.”
“Thank you, Owen. It means everything!”
With a squeal, she threw her arms around her brother, and heat pricked her eyes when he hugged her back.
“Enough of that.” He extricated himself. “Now that you’ve gained my approval, you have bigger problems to worry about.”
“I haven’t a worry in the world.”
She looked happily at him, then at Conrad, who smiled tenderly back.
“Really?” Owen asked. “What are you wearing to your wedding?”
Her eyes widened.
It is happening. Gigi is going to be mine.
As Conrad stood waiting for his bride by the darkening window, he was overcome with elation. Somehow, he’d captured the heart of the little nymph who was everything he’d fantasized about and more. For so long, he’d been focused on vengeance, and while justice was going to be undeniably satisfying, what he was feeling now was sweeter.
I am going to have everything.
Gazing around the room, he decided to give his staff a raise. With short notice, they’d managed to transform the drawing room into a hothouse bursting with bouquets of white roses and lilies, swathes of tulle and glowing candles adding to the romantic ambiance. The rector he’d hired stood at the ready, Bible in hand.
“You didn’t think to mention you’d found yourself a wife?” Redgrave muttered beside him.
His chief manager was serving as his groomsman. Redgrave looked like a brawler stuffed in his Sunday best. His greying beard was neatly trimmed, and a white rose was tucked into the buttonhole of his lapel.
“There was nothing to mention. Gigi hadn’t yet accepted my offer.”
“But you had offered for her, and you didn’t tell me.”
Conrad drew his brows together. “Are you sulking?”
“Grown men don’t sulk,” Redgrave retorted. “I just thought I’d earned your trust.”
“It is not about trust. It was a private matter. You know I do not like my affairs to be bandied about.”
“That is my point. You can trust me not to wag my tongue like a damned fishwife.”
“If I didn’t trust you, would you be standing with me at my wedding and holding the rings?”
Redgrave looked slightly mollified. “You have always held your cards close to your chest, Godwin. Been that way since you showed up at my office all those years ago, looking to be a winner. Even though I didn’t know the first thing about you, I didn’t regret shaking on that deal then, and I don’t now.”
“As I recall, your office was a tavern,” Conrad said. “You were three sheets to the wind and forgot you’d agreed to train me until I hunted you down at another tavern the next day and dragged your drunken arse to a boxing club.”
“Those were the days, eh?” Redgrave said fondly.
Although Conrad rolled his eyes, he felt a twinge of unease. He was in the habit of holding his cards close, and soon he would have to reveal some, if not all, of them to Gigi. The Grantley ball was in two days, and he’d planned to reveal his identity there. While he’d been focused solely on how his brother Robert would react, now he had to think of his soon-to-be wife.
From Gigi’s perspective, the revelation ought to feel like a bonus. It would elevate her status and strengthen his position with regard to her family. When all was said and done, he didn’t think she would mind…but he ought to prepare her ahead of time. After their wedding night, he decided. When he’d staked his claim and she belonged to him fully. Then she would take his side, no matter what.
The drawing room door opened. Conrad, who would have scoffed at anyone who called him sentimental, felt as if time drew to a halt. As he laid eyes on Gigi, he stopped breathing, his senses absorbed by the perfection of her and this moment.
She exceeded his deepest fantasy, and her clothing had nothing to do with it. Truth be told, he preferred her with none at all. Yet his Gigi was a fashionable chit, and he’d wanted her to remember her wedding day with pride. Earlier, he’d pulled a few strings, and a modiste named Madame Dubois had arrived with trunks and an army of assistants in tow. When Gigi had bubbled over with excitement, telling him that she’d been on a waiting list for an appointment with the exclusive dressmaker, he knew he’d made the right choice.
Madame Dubois had brought a selection of wedding dresses, and after Gigi had chosen her favorite, the assistants had worked on the fitting. Conrad had informed the modiste that Gigi was to have carte blanche for a trousseau as well, including a ball gown for a special occasion. He left the ladies to it, his lips twitching when he heard Gigi’s exclamations of delight through the closed door.
Seeing Gigi now, Conrad knew the modiste was worth every penny. The pristine, off-the-shoulder ivory dress looked exquisite on Gigi’s slender frame. Trimmed with the finest lace, tight in the bodice and fluffy in the skirts, the gown gave her the appearance of a demure princess. Her hair had been fashioned into a shiny coronet and studded with orange blossoms. The tender length of her throat was bare—an oversight he would remedy soon—yet she needed no ornament beyond the ring that marked her as his.
As magnificent as the sapphire was, it was no match for Gigi’s eyes. He felt as if he could drown in her gaze—in the love, mischief, and loyalty that, from this day on, would belong to him. He would no longer be a lonely beast roaming the earth alone. He had won his mate, body and soul, and now he would bind her to him.
Escorted by her brother, Gigi glided the short distance to Conrad. She smiled at him and placed her hand in his. His chest expanded with pride and wonder as the rector began the ceremony that would join them forever.