by Lynda Hurst
The guards hauled the four traitors outside to be sent straight to cells inside the palace dungeon until their trial at Bastien’s orders.
Laughing low, Bastien praised, “Lady Mary, when you told me your plan, I thought it was foolhardy and sure to fail. But I see that I was wrong, and I gladly concede superior knowledge to you.”
Mary retorted, “It was the only plan that assured that everyone remained alive.”
Valerian, who was now leaning more on Mary, looked baffled as he glanced down at her. “Wait a moment. Are you saying that you are responsible for my rescue?”
Rather than let Mary answer, Bastien replied for her. “Yes, the whole operation was her idea.”
“And you let her come along?” Valerian’s voice was now rising in temper.
“Of course. Her part was heavily involved and needed to disable St. Germain enough for us to get you back.” Chuckling, Bastien mused, “I believe she could easily replace you as my security strategist.”
Glowering at the both of them, Valerian stated, “None of what you said is at all amusing. Putting my fiancée in danger and in direct contact with a madman is unforgivable!”
Mary cajoled as she placed her palms flat against Valerian’s chest, “None of that matters now that you are safe. I’m safe, and we have other matters to consider.”
Sending his royal cousin a black look, he asked, “What matters?”
Mary quirked a brow at him but didn’t answer.
Bastien laughed again, catching Mary’s meaning, and said, “I think she means your wedding, you dolt!”
24
Several Weeks Later, St. Bartholomew’s Cathedral, Mont-Tremblant
With the threat of deposition and war done away with, Mary and Valerian had been ready to seal their bargain. And with the throne secured for Bastien and his lineage and the Ark safely away, Bastien offered in gratitude to provide Mary and Valerian a wedding that would almost outshine his own.
Word had swiftly been sent to her family in England that her nuptials would be on this day, and Mary was grateful that not only were the Ellesmeres present, but her friends Devlin and Faith as well to witness her wedding. When she had left England, she hadn’t been sure that Jackson and Margaret would make the trip for the wedding, not when Jackson and Devlin were deep into their plans of developing their school.
But they were here now, and her mother was now helping with the final adjustments to her wedding gown as they stood in the antechamber of the church. Faith and Margaret were with her, chattering excitedly about her gown, the guests, and everything pertaining to the lavish wedding the King was providing for her and Valerian.
As excited as she was to marry the man she loved, she was suddenly filled with doubts that threatened to swallow her whole. She loved the man to distraction, yet she was now unsure if she could live her life with a man who didn’t love her back. His feelings had never been made clear, even with the weeks leading up to the wedding, and she had assured herself that his affection for her would be enough. Now, she wasn’t sure if it would be enough. She grew quieter as the minutes passed and she was distracted enough for Lady Diana to notice.
Quietly and tenderly, Lady Diana asked, “My darling, are you all right?”
Hearing the love in that question, Mary’s lower lip trembled as her eyes welled. “I don’t know,” she admitted. Faith and Margaret caught the tremulous note in her voice, and they rose to gather at Mary’s side, ready to support her if it was needed.
“What can we do, sweetheart?” Lady Diana pressed.
Tears falling freely down her face, Mary said, “I want Valerian. I need him here. Right now.”
Faith volunteered, “I will go fetch him right now.” And she left the room in search of the man.
While the women waited for Faith to return with the groom, Mary stood quietly weeping as her mother held her. Her mother murmured comforting noises before saying, “Your happiness is paramount to me, my darling. Your brother and I will be here to cuff that man ourselves if he does anything to make you unhappy.”
Mary laughed through her tears at the fierce loyalty she could hear in her mother’s voice, but she lost her chance to reply when Valerian entered the room. At his appearance, the three women discreetly left the room to give the couple some privacy and closed the door.
Reaching Mary, he was alarmed to see the tears in her eyes, and he instinctively knew they were not happy ones. “What is it?” Dread clawed at his heart as he awaited her response.
“I know that you want to marry me, Valerian,” she said as she tried to give him a smile through her tears. “And I do want to marry you, but not before I have to tell you something.”
Valerian felt his heart plummeting, bracing himself for the worst. “You can tell me anything, you know that, right?”
Nodding, fresh tears fell as she did so. “Yes, that is why I have to confess what I feel right now. I have always imagined myself marrying a man I loved, and I wanted to tell you that is the case. I love you, Valerian. I don’t know how or when, I just know that it’s true.”
Valerian’s heart was brought back from its plummeting depths to soaring heights. She loved him? It was more than he expected from her, given their beginnings, and he ought to tell her so. “Ma chere, that is the best wedding present I could have ever received.”
But Mary sobbed anew. “You are a wonderful man, who could have any woman you wanted to be your wife, yet you chose me.”
Struck dumb at that statement for a moment, he soon collected himself for her sake and wryly asked, “Is this to be the start of an argument about my former womanizing ways? If it is, I’ll have you know I cannot stomach the thought of other women when not one of them could entice me the way you do. But this isn’t about my past, is it?”
Sniffling, she admitted, “No, but it occurred to me that we would never have come together without our fathers’ interference. If it weren’t for you reversing your stand on our betrothal, I would not be finding myself in such a lamentable position.”
“What are you saying, sweetheart? That you don’t want to marry me?” Unease crept back into his heart.
“No! I mean, yes, I want to marry you, but I—”
Valerian didn’t let her finish, believing her next words to be ones of rejection. Snatching her quickly, his arms gathering her against his chest, he fiercely vowed, “I swear to you, I will do my utmost to make you happy. I won’t let you leave me.”
Sobbing loudly, Mary cried, “But I also had dreams of a man who loved me! And I know you don’t love me, and I thought I could live with that, but now I don’t know.”
Setting her apart from him, he looked her in the eyes, trying to focus the love he did feel for her in that gaze, hoping it would translate. “Mary, believe me when I say that I do love you. Like you, I didn’t expect it to happen. All I know is that I want to spend the rest of our lives loving you to distraction, and we can thank both of our fathers for bringing us together here and now, about to marry.”
After her sobbing hiccoughs had stopped, she whispered, “You love me? How do I know that you are not saying that just to make me feel better?”
Instead of rolling his eyes, he assured her with a smile, “You had better believe that I love you! Since you are the first woman I have truly loved and hadn’t bedded yet, I haven’t touched another woman since you stepped into my life. Not to mention, it has been some time since I gave in to my carnal instincts, and I find that I am rather ravenous.”
Laughing, Mary replied, “That is your proof of your love for me? Your restraint?”
Kissing the tip of her nose, he said, “Don’t you think you should marry me, then? I love you enough to have become a monk for you. But don’t ask me to wait any longer, ma chere.”
Looking deep into his eyes and seeing the truth there, she finally said, “All right. If only to pity the women who would have to do without you.”
“Good. You had always belonged to me, and now that you know that I belong to you
and you only, let us get this wedding over with, shall we?”
She agreed laughingly as he tugged her towards the door. And she silently sent up a prayer of thanks for the intelligence of fathers who somehow knew this betrothal would be the best thing for their children.
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“What was it that you wanted?” Faith whispered. His face was so close to hers, she could almost see her reflection in his eyes.
Drawing closer, he whispered. “This. This is what I wanted when I first saw you at Atwell Cottage.”
And he swooped in to capture her mouth in the sweetest kiss, her first kiss with the man she had loved all her life. She was stunned at first, not quite believing that he ever had the urge to kiss her, and it warmed her to her toes that he admitted as much.
She had never kissed a man and wasn’t sure what to do. Devlin pulled back a centimeter and said, “Kiss me back.” With pleasure, she gave her all in that kiss, enthusiastically pressing her lips against his. Joy shot through her as it finally hit home that she was kissing Devlin and it was glorious. She thrilled at his touch when he reached up with a finger to lightly stroke the side of her cheek, making her feel delicate and cherished.
Just as suddenly, Devlin gathered her close within his embrace, continuing the kiss. Faith almost swooned at the rapid change in position but had quickly caught hold of Devlin by his shoulders to steady herself. The kiss itself had changed from soft and sweet to one that was exciting and fueled with passion. As an eager participant, Faith followed Devlin’s lead, trusting him implicitly. Devlin, on the other hand, knew better than to let the kiss go any further than propriety would allow, but her lips were temptation incarnate, and he needed just one more second, one more taste.
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“Speaking of fulfillment, have you given your answer to Jeffrey’s proposal the serious thought it requires?” Faith wondered aloud.
Pleased that she finally had arrived at a conclusion and could voice her intentions to her sister-in-law, Margaret said, “Why, yes, I have, as a matter of fact.You will be pleased to know that I will be accepting his proposal.”
With raised brows in incredulity, Faith asked, “Truly? This is what you truly want?”
Unsure by what the tone in Faith’s voice was suggesting, Margaret said carefully, “Yes. I had dedicated much time and intense consideration towards the thought of marrying Jeffrey. He is my best hope for everything I want in a marriage.”
“And what, if you don’t mind my asking, are those things you do want in a marriage?” Faith asked.
“Well, to begin with, I can count on Jeffrey to be my counterpart in our partnership. Our fondness for each other has already been proven, so companionship is another requirement. We get along well enough, oh, and of course we both want children, and are wanting at least two or three.”
With a sad smile, Faith murmured quietly, “I noticed you did not mention the word ‘love’. Isn’t that something you would wish for yourself for a lifetime with the person you are promised to?”
Unsteadily, her voice wavering a little, Margaret replied just as quietly, “I had hoped for it once, but I know that love isn’t the reason why Jeffrey wants to marry me. Neither of us considered love as a factor in our decision to build our future together. Who knows? Maybe love can grow between us if we are already greatly fond of each other.”
Apologetically, Faith replied, “I’m sorry, Margaret. I don’t mean to cause you any anxiety over one of the most important decisions of your life. It’s only that I hoped you would come to find someone you could love and who would love you just as much in return, someone you could marry.”
Sadly, Margaret said, “As lovely as that sounds, I, however, have found that I must be practical and view marriage the way the ton does. Your marriage to Devlin is one of the rare love matches among our set, and the both of you have been extremely fortunate to have found such bliss. Look at me, Faith! As a bookish almost-spinster, I am just about on the shelf, and am fortunate to have Jeffrey’s sights set on me at all.”
“You do yourself a disservice by discrediting yourself so,” Faith chastised. “But I will leave off the topic for now. It’s just that I thought you and Jackson had, no, never mind. It’s best I not say any more.”
Her curiosity piqued now, Margaret urged, “No, I’d like to know what you were about to say. Please, Faith, what did you think about Jackson and me?”
