Page 108 of The Rebellious Lady and the Phantom Lord
“I want permission to marry your granddaughter.”
Phaedra could not believe what she was hearing. She doubted her grandfather comprehended, either. The old man’s breathing became more labored.
“I want to make her my wife,” James said. “The Marquise de Varnais.”
For a second, her grandfather’s eyes flew open wide, a trace of his old gleam appearing. He tried to repeat the title but he could not manage the sounds. With the words still on his lips, his eyes closed.
The silence that followed seemed to stretch out forever. Phaedra knew the exact moment when her grandfather drifted into his final sleep. A heavy sigh escaped him and then all was still. His coarse features had never known such restfulness in life.
Phaedra realized she was clutching James’s hand. Their eyes met. “Thank you,” she said, “for letting him believe?—”
“I didn’t do it for him,” James said hoarsely. “I did it for you.”
She was well aware of that, but it was enough. With a muffled sob, Phaedra flung herself into his arms.
They were marriedon a cold day in February, the simple ceremony witnessed only by Julianna and Gilly. The service was performed by a fresh-faced young curate who had never heard of James Lethington.
As they left the church, Gilly teasing remarked to Phaedra, “The fellow had not the least notion he was marrying you to a dead man.”
The four of them gathered in the Green Salon afterward. Gilly leaped up on a stool and proposed a toast. “To James and Phaedra: A long, happy married life, and a cottage full of children.”
His boisterous good wishes were echoed softly by Julianna. Gilly crowded forward to kiss the bride. As he planted a rough buss upon her cheek, Phaedra was pleased to see Julianna daring to embrace her brother.
When his sister timidly presented James with a wedding gift, Phaedra noted an expression of barely veiled triumph upon Gilly’s face.
James slowly undid the wrappings. His hands trembled as he unveiled a bird molded of clay. The execution was crude, and yet there was promise of something more, some life stirring in those outstretched wings. Phaedra saw James swallow hard. He murmured his thanks and pressed a tender kiss upon Julianna’s brow.
“Come, Julie,” Gilly said, linking an arm about her waist. “As the French would say, I’m thinking we are quite de trop.” But before Gilly could leave, James clasped his hand in a hard grasp. From the look the two men exchanged, Phaedra could tell an understanding had been reached.
When they were alone, Phaedra glided over to her husband’s side. He was yet examining the bird. He smiled as he glanced up at Phaedra and indicated the sculpture’s outstretched wings. “It looks as though he is straining to be free. He rather reminds me of you.”
Phaedra shook her head, taking the bird and setting it down. All the freedom that she wanted stood only a heartbeat away. James caught her hand and touched the simple gold band encircling her finger.
“Are you disappointed,” he asked softly, “to be the plain Mrs. Lethington, and no longer ‘milady’?”
There was only one response to such a foolish question.
Phaedra flung her arms about his neck and pressed her mouth to his. James returned the kiss, with all the fire and passion of his nature.
With a blissful sigh, Phaedra nestled her head against his shoulder. James held her thus for a long time, both of them watching the snow fall past the Green Salon’s long French windows, the heavy white flakes enveloping the world in a hushed softness.
“How strange,” Phaedra murmured, “but I have always hated winter. It chilled me to the bone. I never realized how beautiful it could be.”
“The winters are far harsher in Canada,” James said. He added hesitantly, “I have made the arrangements for us to embark next spring, but if you truly did not wish?—”
But Phaedra pressed her hand to his lips, hushing him. “I would follow you to the end of the world.” She smiled. “Even if I freeze to death.”
“Nay, love.” James said as he swept her up into his arms to carry her to their bridal bed. “I promise you, that you will never feel cold again.”
