Page 100 of Crown of Wings and Whispers

When Wickhamand I paused at the back of the aisle, someone signaled the organist and the wedding march began. I’d never planned a wedding, so I couldn’t say the moment lived up to my expectations--I didn’t have any. But to keep up the farce, I had to look happy, so I concentrated on the fact that my dress was perfect. I would never in my life look as good as I did at that moment. And I would never have such a handsome man waiting at the end of the long walk.

Griffon Carew was about to be mine…whether he liked it or not.

At the far end of the aisle, a stranger in a Jacobite kilt turned to face us. The face was Griffon’s. The body was his, as was the mouth that fell open at the first sight of my dress. The guests sighed.

As was expected, I exchanged nods and smiles with everyone we passed until I finally had to face the man who didn’t want to marry me.

No mussed hair this morning. He looked perfect. When our gazes locked, his eyes crinkled. He lifted a finger to catch a tear.

Nice touch.

My chest hurt like someone had punched through and pulled out my heart, leaving a gaping, weeping wound. I was going to be sick, and I hadn’t reached my mark! How would I last the whole ceremony?

Wickham took one look at my face and stopped. With only a few steps left, he refused to hand me over. Griffon looked from me to Wickham and back again, trying to figure out what was going on.

Father Donne waited patiently, all smiles.

Archer, the best man, looked like his head might spin on his shoulders if I didn’t keep moving. He gave his brother a shove from behind, and Griffon closed the distance and took the one hand available to him.

“Griffon?”

“Lennon, what is it, pet? What’s wrong?”

I forced up my chin and searched his eyes.Thiswas the man I loved. He couldn’t have betrayed me…but he had.

He grasped my hand to his chest and pressed it against the plaid sash over his heart. “Tell me what’s wrong, my love. None of this matters. Whatever it is, we can deal with it together. Trust me.”

Trust me.

It was the last straw. Tears leaked from my eyes and Wickham finally let go of me. Griffon grabbed my freed hand and waited. I couldn’t tell which of us was shaking, him or me.

“Griffon,” I said quietly, “I need to ask you something.”

36

How To Ruin A Perfect Dress

They found me in a field of flowers…in Fairy.

When I’d first popped into the meadow, I’d lost my footing trying not to step on the little blue buggers shifting close to the ground. As I fell, I aimed my wide, satin-covered arse at a section of tall grass I hoped didn’t have faces.

I was down. The world stopped spinning. No need for Dramamine. But I would have killed for a tissue. My eyes ached and I put my hands over them, so the flowers wouldn’t see how puffy they were. A thousand prying eyes weren’t going to help me at the moment.

Something nudged my ankle. An orchid-colored blossom smiled sweetly and held out a couple of thick leaves she’d obviously torn from the bottom of her own stem. She demonstrated by putting them over her own eyes, then held them out to me again.

I accepted them. “Thank you.”

She pointed to my eyes and waited, frowning gently. She wanted to know why I was crying.

I laughed and held out my hands. “Doesn’t the dress say it all?”

“Weddin’ didnae go as planned, Miss Morgan?”

I turned my head so fast that heat shot up a muscle in my neck. Standing at the edge of the meadow was the woman I’d called Feathers at Daphne’s wake. This time, her feathers were pink and blue and just as long as the originals. Her dress was iridescent, like shiny ice, and reflected all the colors of the surrounding flowers. Her sleeves extended over her hands in points, making her arms look extra-long. And she waved one of those points at her short, dully dressed companion, shooing him away.

He ran a few steps and disappeared.

She smiled unpleasantly. “Auch, that isnae yer real name is it? Not Lucy…” She tapped her fingernails on her lips. “Lemon, is it?”

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