Page 61 of The Duke of Ruin
“If you like, we have hammered iron bands for purchase.”
“That isn’t necessary,” Diana said.
Simon nodded at Elliott. “Yes, the daintiest, most feminine one you have, please.”
The anvil priest turned to his wife, but she was already on her way out. He smiled at Simon. “She knows just what to get. That will be two pounds.”
Diana curled her hand around Simon’s elbow. “It really isn’t necessary.”
He looked down at her, thinking of what she’d said. Thiswasgoing to be different from the last time, and if that meant buying her an iron wedding band, then that was what he was going to do. Plus, he wanted this to be special for her in some way.
“I insist,” he said quietly, looking into her eyes.
Mrs. Elliott returned with a ring and gave it to Simon. “The prettiest one we have.”
It was rather slender, with a flower and a vine etched around the circumference. It was perfect. “Exactly what I had in mind, thank you.”
He turned to Diana and took her hand. Taking a deep breath, he stared into her eyes. “I promise to protect you and keep you for all the days of my life.” He then recited the part of the marriage vows he remembered most, the ones he felt Diana ought to hear from her husband. He slipped the ring onto her finger. Remarkably, it fit. “With this ring, I thee wed.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the soft flesh on the back. “With my body, I thee worship.” He took her other hand so that he clasped them both, never breaking eye contact. “With all my worldly goods, I thee endow. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, Amen.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers.
He felt her sigh against his mouth.
A loud sniff filled the room. “That was so romantic,” Mrs. Elliott said, dabbing a handkerchief at her eye.
Simon turned to the anvil priest. “Thank you, Mr. Elliott.” He bowed toward the anvil priest’s wife. “Mrs. Elliott.” He looked between them both. “Can you recommend a smaller inn where we might lodge?”
“The Dove will suit your needs,” Mr. Elliott said.
Mrs. Elliott scoffed. “Pshaw. They said small, Robert.” Her lips spread into a comely smile as she turned to Simon and Diana. “The Bell and Broomstick is what you need. Just to the west a bit off the main road.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Elliott.”
The boy brought their cloaks and hats and gloves.
“Your Grace?”
Simon had been busy drawing on his gloves, but he looked over and saw that the boy was addressing Diana. She was staring at her ring, and the boy still held her things.
Edging closer to her, Simon nudged her elbow softly.
She blinked up at him, saw him dart his eyes toward the boy, and gave the lad her attention.
“Your Grace?” he repeated.
A pale blush rose in Diana’s cheeks. “Oh yes, thank you.” She accepted her hat and gloves while Simon took her cloak and waited to help her put it on.
“Congratulations to you,” Mrs. Elliott said, looking between them. “May you enjoy a happy and fruitful life together.” She led them to the exterior door where the other couple had departed earlier.
Outside, Simon blinked up at the darkening sky.
“It’s going to be dark soon,” Verity said.
“And it’s going to rain. Let’s find The Bell and Broomstick, shall we?” He led them back to the yard, where Paddon waited with the horses. A few minutes later, they were on their way, and it didn’t take them long to find the inn Mrs. Elliott had recommended.
The Bell and Broomstick was a smaller establishment, but still qualified as a coaching inn. But then Gretna was a main stop on the road between London and Edinburgh, so Simon presumed all the inns were of the coaching variety.
Again, he helped Diana from the horse. As he set her on the ground, he murmured, “Duchess.”
She blushed again. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”
