by Lyn Stone
The library. Adjacent to the accounts office. Caine rolled his eyes and groaned as Grace squeezed his hand and murmured, “Patience. One more night.”
One more lonely night to endure and she would be his. The thought of that almost eclipsed his worry about the confrontation with Wardfelton. That remained in mind, however, and would until it was over.
Grace had taken to Neville’s sly maneuverings like the proverbial duck to water. The four of them had spent a number of evenings secluded in the Wildenhurst library already, working out the details. Her suggestions proved exceedingly helpful, he admitted. Neville declared she should have been a spy herself, delighting her no end.
This was the last day of it. Tomorrow The Plan would either work or it wouldn’t. Caine’s nerves were so frayed, he could scarcely think. Grace excused herself, leaving it to them, but was gone only a few moments.
“Look!” she said, sweeping back into the library. She waved the paper she held and plunked it down on the desk. “At last, the expected missive from Uncle Wardfelton. Just as we first thought, he insists on coming. He left it late, though, didn’t he! I’d almost given up on him.”
Caine couldn’t cheer her success as Trent and Neville were doing. They had decided that the invitations should be made by the Hadleys in London, so that Wardfelton’s might seem to be a mistake. He had sent an acceptance, of course, unable to resist coming.
Grace had mailed a terse note explaining Aunt Hadley’s mistake and warning him not to come, that he was not wanted here, which of course insured that he would.
Caine continued to protest about the risk involved. The closer it came to time, the more he dreaded it. “Neville, I want your men in place by the time we return from the church. There must be absolutely no chance that Grace will be alone with him, even for a moment.”
“Not to worry. They want Wardfelton as much as we do, certainly enough to suffer confinement behind the false panels.”
“And you, Grace,” Caine said, hoping the gravity of his words impressed on her further the need for caution, “Keep the table between you at all times. Never let him near you.”
Grace smiled and laid her hand on his arm. “We have been through this time and again. Nothing will go wrong.” She gave him a comforting pat and headed out of the room. “Now, if you will excuse me, gentlemen, I have a final fitting on my wedding gown. I will see you all at supper.”
Caine tried to imagine the worst that could happen, so he could prepare for it, but it seemed there was no detail left unresolved. “He might not reveal anything that could be used against him. What if he suspects a trap?”
“Then we are no worse off than before,” Trent said. “We will try something else.”
Neville agreed. “Yes, there’s the investigation into his spending habits. Something could turn up yet. But, knowing Wardfelton, I do believe this will work. Grace knows exactly what she must do.”
“She must be kept safe,” Caine insisted. “Even if it means revealing everything before he’s caught. Even if he goes free, laughing at our efforts. Grace must not be hurt again.”
Neville sighed and reached for the brandy decanter. “Bridegroom’s nerves,” he stated as he winked at Trent. “You need a drink.” He poured one and sat back. “Caine, leave this to us and enjoy your wedding. Tomorrow should be the happiest of your life thus far, eh? A quarter hour of it to rid England of a traitor and rid yourselves of an enemy is a small concession. The interruption will be over before you know it.”
Trent raised his glass in a toast. “Just think how the excitement of it all will add to your wedding night. Grace will be over the moon, flushed with success, ready to celebrate!”
“And your relief will only add to the fervor,” Neville added with a laugh.
Caine shot each of them a dark look. “You are both entirely too cavalier. And do stop drinking!” He slammed out of the room, more worried than ever. He knew Neville was right about the nerves, doubly on edge now. Two potentially life-changing events expected in one day were enough to ravel any man’s constitution.
*
Grace slept quite late the morning of her wedding day. Sun streamed through her window and lay across her bed like a blessing as she drank the chocolate Jane brought her and nibbled on a toast point. Her calmness surprised her a little. She figured it was probably due to the two cups of valerian tea Mrs. Oliver had provided the night before.
Mrs. Bowden peeped into the room. “Good wishes from the staff, Lady Grace! Lord and Lady Hadley have arrived already and Mr. Neville’s wife and the doctor have come with them.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Bowden. I hope all is in order for the breakfast?”
The woman beamed. “La, you should see! The kitchens are like a hive of bees! They’ve worked half the night. It’ll be grand.” She gave a little wave and disappeared, closing the door behind her.
Jane was laying out Grace’s wedding clothes, a wistful look on her face as she smoothed out the gown of pale blue taffeta topped with lace-trimmed sarcenet. It was very simply cut, but Grace thought that only added to its elegance.
“We did all right by it even without a proper dressmaker, don’t you think?” Grace asked as she slid out of bed. She had not sewn a stitch on the gown itself, for that would have been bad luck, but she had supervised it closely.
She had a moment’s thought of that long-ago time when she had dreamed of her future wedding at sixteen. This was real and happening today, though, not a young girl’s grand fantasy of some fairy-tale affair. Her hopes and dreams now centered more on her future with Caine, not with fancy trappings or even the ceremony itself. She loved him beyond all reason.
“It’s the loveliest frock ever,” Jane replied with a misty expression.
Grace bathed quickly and Jane helped her on with the fancy clocked stockings, pantalettes, filmy chemise and brief corset.
All the while, Grace kept watch on the mantel clock. It bonged once at half ten. “A bit over an hour until we leave for the church. Best start on my hair now. Are the irons ready?”
Jane wound and heated the straight locks into curls and caught them up in a crown, surrounding them with a delicate edging of lace. She carefully added the sapphire combs so that they showed to best advantage. “There! More princesslike than a cap or bonnet!”
“I like it. You are a wonder, Janie.” Grace peered into her mirror, daubed a bit of rose salve on her lips and smacked them together. She splashed on a bit of scent, pinched her cheeks for color and grinned up at Jane. “Will I do?”
Jane laughed merrily. “Not in your underpinnings! Time for the gown.”
Mrs. Oliver hurried in, all aflutter, just as Jane finished buttoning. The housekeeper stood, hands clasped beneath her double chin, and watched as Jane fastened the sapphire necklace Caine had given Grace. “Oh, my lady, you look so beautiful! The carriage awaits. The captain’s gone down to the church with the menfolk.”
Grace gave her a hug. “You look wonderful, Mrs. Oliver. And doesn’t Jane look pretty? What would I do without you two?”
“Very well, I should think, but we should go now. Hurry, Jane, and bring her flowers there.” She bustled them out like a mother hen. “We shall go along first, Jane, then our little bride and the family will arrive with the church full, waiting to see her. This will be the nicest wedding ever had at Wildenhurst!”
Grace deliberately did not dwell on her uncle at the moment. She was determined he would not impose on this day any more than necessary. For the next hour, she would think only of becoming Caine’s wife. The wait had seemed so long, the fear that it would never happen, so
great. Now that the time had come, she felt like singing a hallelujah chorus to the world.
Repressing her longing for him and denying him what he desired of her these past weeks was the hardest thing she had ever done. Yesterday in the stables, she had given up trying. If Neville and Trent had not turned up, Grace thought she might have given a rather good account of herself in the accounts room. The thought made her laugh to herself. Caine’s disappointment had mirrored her own, but it had worked out for the best, after all. Tonight would be the more perfect for it.
She was no longer an innocent, but she certainly did not regret going to him that night. If not for that, she would now be overset with worry about their wedding night and how it might go between them. As it was, she knew very well how things would progress and could hardly wait. With an entire day to get through, however, she mustn’t let herself focus on that just yet.
The open carriage bumped along the drive and onto the road at a snail’s pace to avoid throwing up dust. The Hadleys accompanied her, as did Neville’s wife, Miranda. She was a lovely lady, and although they’d only just met, Grace hoped they would be friends. Neville had become one in short order. She prompted Miranda to describe their wedding and subsequent travels on the honeymoon as they rode to the church.
She noticed the earl gazing on her with appreciation while Lady Hadley remained her usual quiet self and stared out at the passing scenery. It was a pleasant ride and helped to calm Grace.
That calm ended too soon. When they arrived at the church, everyone was already inside. Except Wardfelton, who stood just outside the door. Waiting.
Chapter Twenty-One
Grace worked to conceal her panic as the Hadleys exited the carriage first.
Neville’s wife grasped Grace’s hand and whispered. “I shall stay between you. Chin up and smile.”
Grace allowed the footmen to assist her down after Miranda. They walked to the church arm in arm as if they were close companions. Neville must have related The Plan and Wardfelton’s significance to his wife.
Wardfelton opened the door for the Hadleys and watched them go inside. Then he turned to Grace. “You look rather washed out this morning, niece. Aren’t you well?” He offered her arm, which she ignored.
“I feel wonderful,” she replied. “Please step aside.”
“I mean to escort you in, my dear. What is an uncle for but to give you away in the absence of your father?”
She stifled the urge to kick him, but only just. So the taunts had begun already. Why couldn’t he have waited until afterward to bait her this way? She felt Miranda squeeze her arm in support.
They entered the vestibule and Wardfelton grasped her other arm, his fingers digging into her flesh. “Go on ahead of us, my lady,” he ordered Miranda. “Let’s do this properly or not at all.”
It was a threat and he was serious. Grace nodded to Miranda. “Go. I shall be fine.” If her uncle did the least thing more than walk her down that aisle, Grace meant to scream down the church and claw out his eyes, even if it ruined the wedding and foiled their plan. The men would be on him within seconds. She was not afraid, she kept repeating to herself. He could do nothing to her here in front of so many witnesses. And he would be oh so sorry for this trick later.
Everyone stood as she marched to the altar. Caine frowned darkly at her unexpected escort and started toward them. Grace shook her head and he stopped, hands fisted at his sides. Damn Wardfelton, he was doing everything he could to spoil this for her. She held Caine’s gaze and smiled defiantly.
There was no way she could conceal her deep breath of relief when her uncle deposited her at Caine’s side and stepped a few feet away.
The ceremony became a blur, her responses instinctive, until Caine slipped the ring onto her finger and peered down at her, deep concern in his eyes. She swallowed and squeezed his hand to reassure him she was all right.
Thank goodness she had not even heard the vicar question whether anyone had objections. If she had, she might have expected Wardfelton to speak up. But now the words resounded that she had waited far too long to hear spoken.
“By the Grace of God and the Church of England, I pronounce you husband and wife together. What God has joined, let no man put asunder.”
Indeed, that would be her constant prayer all day.
And then Caine was kissing her. Hungrily, desperately, as if they might never kiss again. She shuddered at the thought that they might not, even as she responded to Caine in kind.
Applause followed as they strode quickly down the aisle to the church doors. Guests had spilled out and were tossing flowers and rice as Caine rushed her to the waiting carriage and lifted her in. He climbed up beside her, tossed a handful of coins to the well-wishers, signaled the driver and they were off to the manor.
He threw his arms around her and held her close. “God help me, I thought I might kill him right there at the altar,” he gasped. “Are you all right, Grace?”
“I will be if you cease cracking my ribs. Nothing he could do will spoil this day for me, Caine. Tell me you feel the same.”
“I do, I swear. How did he get his hands on you? Guards were all along the way here. Where was Uncle Hadley?”
Grace sighed, pushing away a little so she could breathe. “It was so neatly done, and at the church door. I expect the earl hadn’t time to think how to avoid it. Miranda tried her best.” She shrugged. “It turned out well enough in the end. He did give me to you without a scene.”
Caine picked up his hat, which had fallen off onto the carriage seat. “Ah well, we shall have to do vows again. I scarcely recall a word of what I promised you.” His smile was wry as he met her eyes.
Grace appreciated his attempt to conceal his anger and concern. “Neither do I. Perhaps it’s that way for all brides and grooms. Well, at least we know the gist of it.” She stretched out her arm and looked at her wedding ring for the first time, a gold band set with five sparkling stones.
“I did promise you diamonds,” he reminded her. “Though, the sapphires suit you perfectly.” He touched the gems of her necklace. “I suppose I should have thought to buy you pearls for the wedding. More appropriate and sedate.”
Grace laughed. “Pearls are boring little things.”
“Which you never are, so I forgive myself.” He settled her against him and sighed. “So it’s done. Here we are, wed at last. Hard to believe after so much going on to prevent it.”
He would believe it soon enough, Grace decided, smiling to herself. In a few hours time, perhaps not that long, they would have nothing left to distract them from a future together, a future as shiny and as full of fire as her new diamonds.
*
Mrs. Bowden, Cook and the staff had outdone themselves. Grace had never seen such an array of food as was presented at the wedding breakfast. She counted at least thirty guests in attendance and likely missed a few with all the milling around. Most were strangers to Grace, friends and peers of the Hadleys.
Tables had been set about the drawing room, as well as two buffets laden with food. Musicians played softly so as not to interfere with conversations. Huge arrangements of roses scented the air and added festive color.
Grace refused to let the imminent confrontation with Wardfelton detract from her immediate happiness and pride in her new home and the Wildenhurst people who had made it all possible.
Once the meal concluded, toasts had been made and cake had been served, the event took on the attitude of a ball. Tables were being cleared for dancing. The musicians began playing and the day wore on. Grace stayed on edge, her only comfort Caine’s nearnes
s. She wanted Wardfelton gone so she could enjoy what was left of the day.
Finally, Neville caught her eye and gave an almost imperceptible nod. She nudged Caine. “Time to ignore me. Go.”
He clutched her hand. “Take care, Grace. Promise?”
“I shall.”
“I love you,” he whispered, then left her side.
Why in Heaven’s name couldn’t the man declare that when she wasn’t poised on the edge of some cliff? Grace threw up a hand and blinked with frustration as he walked away to join Trent and Neville. She let herself appear annoyed, as indeed she was.
That was precisely when she saw Wardfelton across the room, smirking. Her cue to proceed, she figured. She began to weave her way through the crowd of guests until she reached the vestibule. It was deserted at the moment. As planned, even Judd was not hanging about. The south end of the house was closed off to guests, including the morning room they had prepared for the confrontation.
She glanced back and saw her uncle heading in her direction. A moment longer and he would be able to see exactly where she was going. Grace waited, then went into the morning room across the vestibule’s corridor from the drawing-room doorway.
She closed the door, crossed the room and waited. “I’m here,” she said in a low voice, alerting the men behind the false wall panels constructed for this purpose alone. That had taken two full days, but they looked perfectly normal, as if they had been there since the room was first built. “If you hear me well, knock twice and hurry.” The knocks came. She knew that Caine and Neville would be just outside the windows in the event of trouble. She should be perfectly safe.
One deep breath, followed by another and another before she heard the door latch click open.
“You have deserted your guests,” her uncle said, an amused reprimand.
“I felt stifled, but now I find it even more so in here,” she retorted.
