Three Weeks to Wed (26 page)

Her aunt's eyes swam in tears as she carefully hugged her. “My dear. The parure your mother left you is still being cleaned and reset. It should be delivered later this afternoon. You are lovely.” A tear escaped her eye. “She would have been so happy to see you.”

“None of that, Almeria,” Uncle said gruffly. “We don't want to get everyone weeping.”

Dabbing her eyes with the corner of her handkerchief, she smiled mistily. “Yes, my dear, of course, you're right.”

“You have the hatpin?” Phoebe asked.

“Yes”—Grace's heart swelled with happiness—“Thank you for thinking of it.”

“You're very welcome,” Phoebe said. “Ladies, we should be going. We don't want the gentleman to think you've run off.”

* * *

Matt stood chatting with Marcus, Rutherford, and Anna. At a noise from the other end of the transept, he turned. Grace entered with her aunt and uncle and Phoebe. After giving her cloak to a footman, Grace turned and smiled. His heart quickened and his throat contracted. He'd be lucky if he could say his vows. She was the most beautiful woman he knew, and she was
his.

Grace floated toward him, and he held out his hand, unable to take his eyes off her. He thanked God and the Fates that he'd found her. There was no other woman he wanted to spend his life with. She was gazing in his eyes and smiling back at him.

“Shall we begin?” the vicar said.

From the corner of his eye, Worthington could see the very young cleric grin.

Lady Herndon took a place with Patience and the children. They all sat quietly and were smiling expectantly. Charlie, Louisa, and Charlotte were spaced out among the younger ones.

Glancing at Grace, Matt asked, “Are you ready, my love?”

She nodded. “I am.”

“Yes, well then, let us begin. Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God . . .”

When Marcus handed Matt the ring, there was a rustling and a few titters from the children. The twins had managed to get one of Grace's rings for him so he'd know the size. The ring he had finally chosen was the one his father had given to his mother, and it fitted Grace perfectly.

She glanced down as he slipped the intricate gold-and-diamond band on her finger and looked back up at him. Tears started in her eyes, but she was smiling. After the vicar pronounced them man and wife he took her in his arms and held her until the rustling from the pews made him remember where they were.

Phoebe and Marcus went with them to sign the registry.

“I'll need a copy of the marriage lines,” Matt said.

“You may take a copy now.” The vicar smiled. “Uncle Bertrand said you would require them, so they are ready.”

“Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure, I assure you.” The younger man flushed. “I should tell you, it's my first wedding ceremony.”

Matt felt his smile broaden. “Ours as well. I wish you many more.”

The cleric grinned. “And I wish you only the one.”

Grace chuckled. “Come, my lord husband. You may take me home.”

“With pleasure, my lady wife.”

Aunt Almeria sobbed into her handkerchief. “You two are very silly. Now we must get the children home.”

The level of noise rose and echoed through the church.

“Yes, yes, we all want to see Grace, but we shall have to wait until we are home again,” Charlotte said, ruthlessly herding the younger ones.

Charlie's face was stern, but the corners of his lips ticked up as he took Mary and Theodora's hands. “Listen to Charlotte. Come, we must go. Jacques has treats for us when we get back. I for one am hungry.”

“You're always hungry,” Mary said. “I hope he has lemon tarts.”

Marcus leaned over to Grace and Matt. “That's right, bribe them with food.”

Louisa took her remaining sisters' hands. “Augusta, Madeline, come along.”

Rutherford whispered to Anna, “How many children did you say you wanted?”

Anna shook her head and smiled, but forbore to answer.

Once the children were in the coaches, Grace heaved a sigh. “I think that went well.”

“I agree.” Phoebe took Marcus's arm. “Now if we can be as orderly as the children, we shall be back in no time.”

Anna glanced at Rutherford. “I agree.”

He took her arm. “I feel as if I'm being managed again.”

Raising a brow, Anna said, “No, my love, I'll only manage you if you don't come, immediately. There is another wedding here at eleven.”

“Ah,” Rutherford replied. “The Gretna Green couple.”

Grace and Matt arrived at Stanwood House and quickly formed a receiving line. They stood with her aunt, uncle, and Patience. Phoebe, Anna, and their husbands took charge of settling the children.

Lady Bellamny was the first guest to arrive. “Worthington, Lady Worthington, well done.”

Lord and Lady St. Eth and Lord and Lady Dunwood were next in a steady stream of wedding breakfast guests. After a half an hour or so, Uncle Bertrand, Aunt Almeria, and Patience left to entertain the guests.

It wasn't until then Grace realized that no one had asked her about the entertainment. “Matt, please tell me someone was in charge of the planning for this. I thought we'd have only family and close friends.”

“The Dowager Lady Worthington and your chef planned it. Or I should say, our chef.”

“For how many?”

“Not over a hundred.”

The blood rushed out of Grace's head, and she swayed. “I did tell you that I don't take surprises well?”

“Grace, are you going to faint? Here, lean on me and take some deep breaths.” He caught Royston's eye. “Water.”

After she'd had a few sips, Matt said, “I don't understand how it is you don't bat an eye at the antics of your brothers and sisters, but a change in plans can make you swoon.”

“It's really rather simple. I expect the worst from them. As a result, I'm always relieved when it doesn't occur. Royston, how many more?”

He checked his list. “Two, Lords Huntley and Wivenly.”

“They are always late,” Matt said brutally. “Huntley and Wivenly can fend for themselves while we attend to the rest of our guests.”

“Did I hear my name?” Huntley ambled through the door. “Sorry, Worthington, Wivenly will be right along. He and I were searching for the perfect wedding present. We finally found it, but it won't be ready until to-morrow.”

Matt's eyes narrowed. “This had better be something appropriate.”

Lord Huntley was the picture of innocence. “Of course considering the number of children you are now responsible for, we did think of a milch cow. But then thought it would present a rather odd sight in your back garden. Not to mention the necessity of hiring a milkmaid to manage the beast”

Grace started to giggle and had to cover her mouth to not laugh out loud.

Wivenly strolled up. “Yes, then we heard you're remodeling and that gave us a new idea. You'll see it in the not too distant future.” He calmly took Grace's hand. “Lady Worthington, my pleasure. As a favor to me, I pray you will overlook Worthington's fits of temper. They don't usually last.”

“Thank you for the advice,” Grace replied, unable to keep her voice from trembling with mirth. “I shall bear it in mind.”

Wivenly bowed, kissed her hand, and Huntley followed suit. Her husband's still-narrowed eyes followed them.

“I wouldn't worry, my love.” Grace took his arm. “I am sure it won't be unsuitable, and if it is, we can always put it away and bring it out when they visit.”

The large reception rooms were opened up as well as the terrace doors. A string quartet played softly, and long tables were set in an adjoining parlor with canapés and other offerings. There'd been no time for a wedding cake; therefore, various tarts and small, square, iced cakes, Jacques called petits fours, as well as trifles, decorated one table. Glasses of champagne, lemonade, ratafia, and wine were carried by footmen.

Worthington snagged two glasses of champagne and handed one to Grace. “To us and our family.”

She saluted him. “Yes, to us and our family.”

Uncle Bertrand must have seen them as he called the guests to order and presented the first toast. He was followed by Marcus and Rutherford. Grace and Matt made the point of spending time with each of their guests, before she whispered, “I'm going to change. I'll meet you at the front door.”

He kissed the tips of her fingers as she slipped out of the room. A few minutes later, he found Royston. “We're departing now.”

“I shall inform Lord Herndon and, I think, Miss Carpenter, only.”

“You're a good man.”

Grace returned to him in a plain, muslin morning gown and took his hand. “Are you ready?”

Perusing her lush form, wrapping his fingers around her slender hand, desire swept through him. Causing his muscles to clench. They would have at least the rest of the afternoon and all night to themselves. Visions of her naked beneath him floated through his mind and his hand caressed her back. He drew her to him and whispered, “No stays?”

She gave him a sultry glance. “I didn't think I would need them.”

He was more than ready. He'd dreamed about this for days.

Matt towed her out of the house, restraining himself from running across the square to his house.

Thorton opened the door and bowed. “My lady, welcome to your new home.”

“Thank you, Thorton.”

After that, Mrs. Thorton came to greet her. Did they have to take so long? Matt should have given his butler and housekeeper the day off so that he and Grace could be alone.

Scowling, he pulled at her hand and started up the stairs.

Thorton bowed again. “We shall be standing by in the event you require anything, my lady.”

Matt was almost positive he'd seen his butler's lips twitch.

A few moments later, they were in his chamber—no—their chamber. He closed the door and faced her. His heart thudded. Finally she was his, and he couldn't think of a thing to say. The silence was only broken by the crackling of the fire.

Grace stood before Matt staring at him. “I know it's foolish, but I feel shy for some reason.”

He touched her face lightly with the tips of his fingers, cupping her cheek. Heat spread through her, and she leaned into his hand. With a turn of her head, she kissed his palm.

Bending down, he kissed her lips lightly. “It's only because this is the first time we've planned it.”

Grace shook her head slowly. He was wrong. “No. The first time, I planned for it to happen.”

“Indeed?” Feathering soft kisses on her jaw, Worthington made his way back to her lips. “You may have, but I didn't.”

She lifted her eyes to his warm lapis gaze. “No?”

He drew her closer, like he had the night at the inn. “No. When you kissed me, I knew you'd never been touched and had every intention of asking you to marry me before we made love.”

“That was the reason you left me at my chamber. Was the kiss that bad?”

Worthington wrapped his arms around her. “It was innocent and perfect. I knew I was falling in love with you.”

Grace relaxed, relishing the feeling of love and safety. This was what she wanted for the rest of her life.

“Grace, why did you come to me?” He kissed the top of her head. “Why take such a risk?”

Her throat closed in pain. “I—I'd never planned to marry.”

Caressing her back, Matt asked, “Because of the children?”

She put her arms around his neck and nodded. “I thought if I could have just one night with you that would be enough. Then I could go back home, take care of the children, and not care if I never married.”

He grinned ruefully. “But once would never have been enough for me. I had to find you.” Kissing her lightly on the lips, he held her tighter. “Brown denied you were there. If I'd been alone, I might have thought you were a phantom. Thankfully, my groom was with me. I searched for you all along the road home.”

The cold tears and despair seemed so long ago. “I cried until I arrived at Stanwood House.”

He held her back a little and captured her eyes. “You should have stayed, Grace. I was so lonely without you.”

Tears filled her eyes. She had to tell him, if she didn't do it now, she might never say it, and it would stand between them. Swallowing, she tried to straighten her shoulders, but she couldn't look at him. “I—I want you to know that I understand this—this passion may not last.” She closed her eyes and forced herself to continue. “That—that when it is over, you will take mistresses.” Her voice failed and tears started to roll down her cheeks.

There it was, at least she was finally telling him. “You think I'll take another woman? Whatever gave you an idea like that? Or should I ask whom?”

“My aunt said that even the best of gentlemen . . .”

All he wanted to do was comfort her, but he needed to hear it, and she needed to say it. “What else did she say?”

“That—that you would lose interest in the children.”

Damn all well-meaning aunts
.

“Grace, my darling. I cannot speak to her marriage, but, my love, my dear, dear, love. I shall never lose interest in you or the children.”

When she tilted her head up, her beautiful woebegone face wrung his heart. He frowned. “That was the reason you were so cold to me when we left?”

“Yes, but then I decided I would take the love you could give me until you—you tired of me.”

Holding her close to him again, he said, “My poor sweetheart. If only you'd told me.”

“How could I have? I had so many doubts and everything was happening so quickly.”

“I know she meant well.” Matt kissed her. “Yet I can't help but wish she'd not spoken to you. My love, my parents did not have that sort of marriage, and it's not what I want with you.” He kissed her temple and vowed he'd show her every day how much she meant to him. Grace and the children. “But my father did with Patience. I could never inflict that type of pain on you.”

“Are you sure? Because if I let down my guard . . .”

“There is nothing more certain. I want you as my lover, my friend, and my wife.”

Matt kissed her gently, deeply, and with all the love he could infuse into a kiss. “I vowed to-day to worship you with my body, and to keep myself only on to you. That is a promise I shall keep.”

He brushed the tears from the corners of her eyes, then took her lips, teasing them open. His tongue stroked hers and explored, slowly building a fire that he wanted to last for the rest of their lives. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

“Grace, I'm going to make love to you.”

“Yes.”

He unlaced her gown and found only a chemise underneath. Slowly, he untied the ribbons and pulled her bodice down until the dress hung on her hips, exposing her perfect breasts. He held them reverently before moving his hands down over the indentation of her waist, then on to her hips. The chemise and gown fell in a
swoosh
. “Your turn.”

Grace untied his cravat and let it drop. She unbuttoned his waistcoat and pushed to remove his jacket. “I need help. This jacket won't go down.”

“Tug at the sleeves.”

Going behind him, she pulled as Matt shrugged out of the jacket. He drew his shirt off over his head.

Grace unbuttoned the placket of his breeches. They dropped to the floor. He took off his shoes and stockings, standing naked before her.

Her eyes grew round and a small smile appeared to pull at her lips. Reaching out she ran her hands over him. “I love your chest.”

“Do you think you could admire it just as well in a supine position?” Worthington picked her up and carried her to their bed.

Kicking her feet out, she toed off her slippers. “My stockings.”

“In a minute.” He feathered kisses over her throat and down her neck. Her skin warmed and flushed. He caressed her lips with his tongue, teasing until she put her arms around him and captured his mouth. The familiar heat rose between them. He sank deeper into their kiss and Worthington's senses threatened to scatter. His shaft had been hard since they reached the room, but this was not the time to take her quickly. He wanted to reacquaint himself with her body. His heart raced. Holding her head in his hands, he drove her further into their passion, until Grace was panting and writhing beneath him. Her legs embraced him, pleading for him to take her.

“Not yet,” he managed to murmur.

Worthington's lips left hers and moved down to her breasts. He held one in his hand while his mouth ministered to the other. Grace shook with need. But his licking and tasting added a layer of pleasure to what she wanted. She cried out and this time he didn't caution her to be quiet. He left her breasts and traveled over her stomach to her curls. Oh, he hadn't done that since their first night, and she wanted it. When she moaned, her wicked husband chuckled deeply as she arched into him wanting more.

Grace shuddered and screamed when his tongue stroked and entered her. “Matt, Matt, please.”

“Ah, so that's what I have to do in order for you to scream my name?”

Matt embraced his need for her. He'd not expected their union to be so strong this soon. Slumping down next to her, he ran his hand over her naked body. This was the lady he was meant to have, to live his life with. His woman, his love. For the second time, he settled her in the place next to him and pulled the covers over them.

Her skin was still flushed and dewed. Grace snuggled into him. “That was different, wasn't it?”

“Yes.” He kissed her forehead. “It was different. How it's meant to be.”

“I like being in a bed with you.” Grace turned in his arms and captured him with her deep blue gaze. “I won't leave this time. I want to know what it's like to wake with you next to me.”

Matt didn't think he'd ever known such joy. “Good. I don't want to have to go looking for you.”

* * *

Mr. Combs woke early with a stuffy nose. His wife brought a hot cloth and laid in on his troublesome appendage. That always seemed to help. The job would have to wait until he could breathe again. He went back to sleep. By the time he woke it was late morning and sunny, and he could breathe. Combs dressed then found his wife in their small parlor, mending clothes.