Page 72 of Enticing the Devil

Chapter Twenty-five

And so it was that Lady Anne Humphries was wed to Mr. Beynon Thomas in a private—though not terribly small—ceremony that took place in the Earl of Harte’s personal study. Witnesses included Lord and Lady Harte, Lord and Lady Wright, Miss Cailleach Claybourne, Mr. and Mrs. Bentley with their two young sons, Mr. and Mrs. Pinkman, and Portia Turner, whose husband had to rush off to London on some urgent business. Also present was the Dowager Countess of Chelmsworth, known to all as Angelique, who had somehow discovered the wedding was going to take place—though no one admitted to telling her—and insisted on being present.

The groom wore a casual suit with a chocolate-brown coat and a pale green waistcoat and the bride wore a simple gown of sky blue with lace trim and a crown woven of pink and purple posies selected from the earl’s garden by Miss Claybourne.

After the ceremony, the Earl of Wright gave a lovely but succinct toast wishing the new couple happiness and health. There was just enough time for a few felicitations, and as Lord Harte talked with the officiate, Lily drew Anne into a quick but emotional embrace, whispering heartfelt well-wishes in a tearful goodbye. Bethany and her husband were next. Then Emma Bentley, who offered a genuine assurance that all would work out just as her husband stepped up to add that, if it didn’t, Anne was to remember what he said—that as a member of the family, she would forever have his support and assistance should she ever need it.

Gratitude and a strange sort of sadness welled up in Anne’s heart with the acknowledgement that she’d finally acquired the kind of family she’d always hoped for only to be leaving it for something utterly unknown.

Glancing to where Beynon stood talking with the Earl of Wright, she suddenly wished they were standing side by side. That the kind words were being offered to the both of them as a new married couple rather than individually. The distance between them felt suddenly insurmountable.

As Miss Claybourne approached with Lady Wright, Anne forced a bright smile to her lips. The girl was obviously very pleased with the outcome of her brother’s partnership with Anne and would’ve gone on about having known they were meant to be if Lady Wright hadn’t stepped forward to take the girl in hand as Lord Wright joined them to offer his own goodbye, suggesting the possibility of a visit to Wales in the future.

A moment later, Beynon was there. His large, imposing form took position at her side as he muttered about needing to be on their way. Recalling why he was in such a hurry to return home, Anne nodded and slipped her hand into the bend of his arm just as Portia Turner stepped in front of them.

“Before you go,” Lily’s younger sister said with a wide smile that did nothing to soften the somewhat calculating look in her eyes, “I’d just like to say that I truly hope for the best in this union.” The lady paused to give a pointed look at Beynon before turning to address Anne specifically. “However, if you find yourself needing to escape an unbearable situation, I’ve means to assist in such an endeavor.”

Anne blinked in shock. Portia hadn’t even tried to lower her voice, clearly having wanted Beynon to hear the thinly veiled threat, which he did with a fierce tensing of muscles and a forbidding frown.

“Thank you but such assistance won’t be necessary,” Anne replied quickly.

Portia just patted Anne’s hand and gave a wink. “Even so.” Then she walked away.

With a grumble of annoyance, Beynon offered a general goodbye to the friends and family gathered in the study before leading Anne from the room. Barely twenty minutes after the officiate intoned his first words and only eight hours after Beynon approached Anne in the garden, they were hustled into a carriage and started their journey to Beynon’s home in Denbighshire, Wales.

Throughout the proceedings, Anne felt as though she were moving through a dense fog. She had a vague sense of everything that was happening, but it seemed to be filtered through a haze of disconnection. As if she were viewing it from a slight distance rather than experiencing it all firsthand.

And Beynon’s fiercely solemn manner didn’t help matters.

Every time she found herself looking into his dark and shadowed gaze, the breath would leave her lungs as though she were being crushed between immovable stone walls.

She wouldn’t have guessed it possible, but the tension got so much worse once they were alone in the carriage. The journey was expected to take about five days and would require four nights in posting inns along the way.

Typically, Anne didn’t mind lengthy travel. She enjoyed viewing changing scenery and stopping in different villages and being able to see areas of Britain that were new to her.

But the idea of spending so much time in the closely confined space with a man who hadn’t bothered to utter a single word to her in the—goodness! It had to be at least a few hours already since they’d left the Hartes’ estate—honestly made her feel like she might scream.

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