Page 150 of Thief of the Ton
Silence filled the room. At length, Papa spoke. “Is that it? Not that I am protesting, of course, but I fail to see why the regent should show compassion toward a man he’s met only briefly at St. James’s, and barely spoken more than two words to.”
Stiles glanced toward Peregrine and winked—he actuallywinked!
What had Peregrine been up to?
“Let’s just say that a little blackmail, sanctioned by the magistrate, in relation to a set of allegedly stolen apostle spoons that mysteriously reappeared in a pawnshop in… Where was it, Marlow?”
“Hatton Garden,” Peregrine said.
Lavinia stared at him. “Didyouhave something to do with this?”
He smiled. “Can I not indulge in a little adventure in the name of justice, my love?”
“B-but isn’t blackmail a”—she lowered her voice—“acrime?”
Stiles placed his hands over his ears in an exaggerated gesture. “I didn’t quite catch what you said, Miss de Grande, but please, donotrepeat it.” He turned to Lady Betty. “Good lady, I’ll trespass on your hospitality no further.” He glanced toward Lavinia, then to Peregrine, and back. “May I be the first to wish you joy? While I consider myself the luckiest man in all England to be blessed with my own wife, I’ll wager that you, Lord Marlow, will be able to rival me in your good fortune.”
“Lord Stiles, isn’t that a little presumptuous?” Lady Betty asked.
Stiles let out a laugh. “I flatter myself in that I can read a man as easily as if he were an open book. When Marlow here came pleading to me, offering to incriminate himself in a scheme to blackmail the regent, I asked myself why such a man, who prides himself in the application of the law, would wish to endanger his reputation and his life. And the answer was simple. It was for the woman he loves.”
He bowed to Lavinia. “My dear, I am only too glad to see you, and your father, at liberty. It only remains for me to ask you to accept my best wishes for your future happiness as Lady Marlow. And now, I shall leave you in peace—if your man would be so good as to show me out, Lady Betty?”
Lady Betty nodded, then ushered Stiles out, leaving Lavinia with Peregrine and Papa.
Papa held out his hands. “Daughter—Lord Marlow—come here.”
Peregrine’s eyes widened, and for a moment, Lavinia thought she saw moisture there. Then he wiped them and steered Lavinia toward the bed, his hand placed possessively against the small of her back.
“Son,” Papa said, and Peregrine gave a low gasp. “I wish to give you my blessing to marry my daughter.”
“Sir, you have already done so,” Peregrine said. “I—”
“I know, I know,” Papa said irritably, “but the last time I delivered it as a warning that if you let her down, I would hunt you and finish you off with my bare hands.” He took Lavinia’s hand, then Peregrine’s, and placed it over hers. “This time,” he said, his voice barely a whisper, “I give you my full consent and blessing—without condition or warning, but in the knowledge that you love her above all others, and will cherish her as much as I cherished my beloved Lily.”
“I do love her,” Peregrine said.
“Then, in my eyes, you are already man and wife,” Papa said. “I’m unlikely to see the day that the two of you marry, but I am content with that, for I shall be with my beloved Lily.”
Lavinia blinked back a tear. “Papa…”
“Hush, darling child. My health is failing, such that, sentence or no, I’m unlikely to see the month end. But I’ve no wish for you to arrange a hasty marriage just to suit your foolish old papa. You must have the banns read properly, and declare your pledge to each other to the world. Will you promise me that?”
Lavinia nodded, and a tear splashed onto her hand.
“We’ll have none of that,” Papa said firmly. “Today is a day of joy.” He nodded to Peregrine. “Son, fetch the item on that table, would you?”
Peregrine rose to his feet and approached the table. Then he smiled and returned, the necklace in his hands.
“That was your mother’s,” Papa said. “And I now give it to you, on the occasion of your marriage, to honor the love you bear for each other—and to honor the Phoenix, the angel of justice, who risked life and limb for those she loved.” He gestured toward Peregrine. “You know what to do.”
Peregrine approached Lavinia. Her skin tightened with want as he caressed the back of her neck. He placed the necklace around her, and she sighed at the weight of it—the delicious coolness of the gold against her skin. He secured the clasp and dipped his head to place a soft kiss on her shoulder.
“I pledge myself to you, now and for always,” he whispered, his voice sending a thrill of desire through her.
“And I you.” She tipped her head back, and his lips met hers in a soft, chaste kiss. But the hunger in his eyes spoke of raw need—a primal desire that begged to be satisfied.
They had the rest of their lives to satisfy each other’s needs and desires. But here, now, in a small bedchamber, hidden from Society, the intimate little ceremony cleaved their souls together before her beloved papa, so that he could witness their union before he departed the world.
