Page 72 of Deception and Desire
“I’m having doubts,” Evie whispered. “His inheritance has been somewhat ravaged. The late earl was ill for several years and an unscrupulous solicitor took advantage. While Brecken’s been successful with investments since gaining the title, he cannot afford to revive the estate.”
“So your dowry will be essential in that effort.” Fenella wondered at both her sister’s blush and the lack of this information in any of her letters. “Do you fear he loves the money you bring to the marriage rather than you?”
Evie nodded and sniffed, her eyes glistening.
“The Lord Brecken I first met was enamored of you at first sight. He had no idea of your dowry.” She laid a hand on her sister’s cheek. “I can only imagine your time together enhancing his attraction.”
“The reason he was attending the season was to find an heiress.” Evie blinked. “His mother was pressuring him.”
“We certainly understand overbearing mothers.”
The modiste snorted.
“Dear sister, when you enter the room, his eyes see nothing else. It’s love in his gaze. I’m sure of it.” She hugged Evie.
“Do you really think so?” She bit her lip, and Fenella could see she wanted to be convinced.
Fenella nodded and hugged her sister. “I swear it.”
Evie wiped at the corner of her eyes. “Thank you, dear Fenella. I’m so glad you’ve come.”
“By the way, you hadn’t mentioned moving to Wales in your letters.”
“Nothing has been decided as of yet, so there was no need to.” She made a circle as Madame pulled at her skirt. “He said we will make all decisions together.”
“See? He’s not only handsome but reasonable.”
Evie pulled up her wheaten curls and turned as the modiste sat back on her heels, smiling at Fenella’s reflection.
“Puhfecshun,” the modiste said around the pins in her mouth.
*
Three days later
The intimate weddingwas held at St. George’s Hanover Square Church on a stormy Thursday morning. Each time they had to dash from the house to the carriage to the church, the women had been blessed with a break in the rain. Evie had fretted over the clouds, but their father insisted it was good luck.
There were no more than a dozen friends and relatives invited, though more would attend the breakfast afterward. Everyone was dressed in their best. Fenella had a new gown of silk that matched the color of Evie’s lace. Vines and tiny roses had been embroidered along the hem, echoing the tiara her sister wore. Both sisters wore their hair upswept in an elaborate chignon with a cascade of tresses falling to the nape.
The cathedral itself was a typical Anglican church with a spacious nave, where they now stood, with tall box pews flanking the wedding party. Galleries and a balcony overlooked the nave on three sides. The dark intricately carved wood and ornate plastered arched ceilings contrasted with the brilliant stained-glass windows behind the altar.
As the ceremony ended, and vows were repeated, Fenella was surprised to see tears in her mother’s eyes. A twinge of jealousy pinched her heart, but when she looked at the joy on Evie’s face as she turned to her husband, it disappeared. Lord Brecken was devastatingly handsome in black tails, satin breeches, and a coffee-brown waistcoat, embroidered with gold to match Evie’s trim. An intricate white cravat was perfectly tied with a diamond pin set in the middle. His dark hair was combed back, his beard neatly trimmed, and his smile genuine as he gazed down at his new bride. The love in his hazel eyes mirrored her sister’s, and Fenella knew she could return to Scotland without worry.
“They are a bonnie couple,” whispered her grandmother as the earl and his bride were presented to the small congregation. Her cheeks, pink with excitement, showed a deepening dimple as she beamed at the newly betrothed. “Ye should be proud to have had a part in it.”
“I can’t take much credit, except for introducing them. Lord Brecken would have found some way to meet my sister.”
“Aye,” Grandmama agreed, “he seems to be quite a determined man. I’m glad of it, since he has much work ahead of him. His mother is still attractive. Perhaps she’ll marry again.”
The dowager’s petite form was misleading. Her sister had told of the stubbornness and strength the woman possessed. She gave a regal appearance, her dark hair held only a hint of silver, her face still smooth except for tiny lines around her mouth and eyes. When she turned her glittering black eyes on them, Grandmama clucked. “I’d no’ want to cross her. Yer sister best tread softly.”
Fenella pointed out the taller man next to the groom. His hair was a deep brown, his eyes almost black. Though his clothes were expertly tailored, he seemed uncomfortable in his surroundings. “That is Brecken’s older half-brother from his mother’s first marriage. Lord Conway’s barony goes back to Edward I when his family fought the English.”
“He’s Welsh then, no English blood?”
She nodded. “Evie said it took some convincing to get him across the border. He hates England but loves his brother.”
“He’s a fine-looking mon. I can see him standing on a cliff in the wilds of Wales.”
