Page 63 of The Lady's Forbidden Marquess
The morning lightfiltered through the stained-glass windows of the private chapel at Hawthorne House, casting a mosaic of colors across the ancient stone floor.Gabriel stood at the altar, his hands clasped behind his back, the crisp folds of his dark blue coat a stark contrast to the softer hues around him.The chapel, a relic from the estate’s Elizabethan origins, held only a handful of souls.Edwin, his soon-to-be brother, seated in the front pew with a begrudging acceptance etched on his face, though his posture had softened from outright hostility; Lady Devon, perched beside him with a discouraged air, her fan twitching restlessly as if she still mourned the grand society wedding that might have been; and Anna, beaming with unbridled thrill.
It was a small affair.As the organ’s soft strains began, Gabriel’s thoughts turned inward, a torrent of reflection that swelled like the Thames after a storm.His past had been a shadowed path, one of reckless wagers and fleeting liaisons, a life that might have culminated in a hollow existence—isolation in his own excesses.He could envision it—years slipping away in gaming hells and empty ballrooms, his heart armored against vulnerability, his future a barren estate echoing with regret.
But that trajectory had shattered, reformed by one extraordinary woman.Peregrine, with her fierce spirit and unyielding honesty, had pierced through his defenses, turning chaos into clarity.She had saved him from himself, not with pity or reform, but with a love that demanded he rise to meet it.And now, here he stood, on the precipice of a future rewritten.The ghosts of his past finally at peace.
The chapel doors creaked open, and there she was.Peregrine entered on Henley’s arm—Lady Devon having relinquished her seat for this duty—her gown a vision of lavender silk that hugged her form with elegant simplicity, the bodice adorned with delicate lace that caught the light like dew on petals.He gave a surprised yet low chuckle as he recognized the dress.He caught Pere’s eye and noted her delighted, mischievous grin that sent his heart to pounding.She’d chosen that gown with purpose, reminding him of their first waltz, taking him immediately back to the day that he’d begun to fall in love, unknowingly.
Gabriel’s breath caught; she was radiant, her dark hair swept up with a few tendrils framing her face, and in her eyes—those luminous depths—he saw a love so profound it humbled him, a mirror to his own devotion that made his chest ache with joy.
As she made her way down the short aisle, Gabriel struggled to stay in place, so urgent was the need to meet her halfway.He couldn’t tear his eyes from her, and only when Henley gave a soft chuckle, did he flicker his attention to his friend who seemed utterly amused as he paused and lifted his sister’s hand from his arm.Tenderly, Gabriel offered his arm to Peregrine, his body finally relaxing as her delicate hand rested on his, a symbol that defined the shift in identity, from Lady Peregrine Rosewood to Peregrine Ashford, Lady Hawthorne.
As he lifted his gaze from her hand to her eyes, his heart hammered with the reflection of love in her expression that pierced through his soul.
His smile tipped his lips, and unable to stop himself, he mouthed the wordsI love you.
Pere blushed and whispered back, “I love you.”
Henley took his leave and, without delay, Hawthorne shifted so they faced the front of the chapel and the vicar.The vicar, an elderly gentleman with a voice like aged velvet, commenced the ceremony with historical precision, adhering to the rites of the Church of England as outlined in the Book of Common Prayer.
“Dearly beloved,” he intoned.“We are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony.”
Gabriel’s gaze never left Peregrine as they exchanged vows, his voice steady as he pledged, “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.”The words, drawn from centuries of tradition, felt newly forged in that moment, binding them not just in law but in soul.
Peregrine repeated her own vows with quiet conviction, her hand trembling slightly as he slipped the gold band onto her finger, his chest swelling with joy in seeing the ring where it belonged.Wife.
The vicar continued with a few prayers and verses, but Gabriel’s attention was on Peregrine, her soft smile, the halo of light that seemed to illuminate her beautiful frame, and the profound understanding of their union resonated deep within him.
And then, finally, the pronouncement.“Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder.”
Gabriel leaned in for the kiss, his lips meeting hers in a tender seal that ignited a spark within him—soft, reverent, yet laced with the promise of more.Her warmth, the faint scent of lavender, enveloped him, and in that instant, the world narrowed to just them.He memorized the curve of her lips against his, the soft sigh of surrender that made his impatient body demand more, and as the vicar snapped the Book of Common Prayer shut, it was only then that he remembered himself and ended the kiss, reminding himself that soon the time for reservation would be gone.
Pere’s cheeks pinked with a blush as Lady Anna gave a soft chuckle from the front row.Her eyes darted from his, to Anna, and she gave an unapologetic grin to her friend.Gabriel took a deep breath and waited for Peregrine’s eyes to find him once more.He smiled then, unreservedly basking in the glow of the moment, of the truth that in front of God and everyone, they were now one.
The wedding breakfast followed at Lady Devon’s residence, a sunlit parlor transformed into a haven of elegance with silver trays laden with delicate pastries, fresh fruits, and steaming pots of tea.The table groaned under the weight of ham, eggs, and syllabubs, the air scented with roses from the garden.Conversation flowed like fine wine—Henley regaling the group with tales of his latest escapades, Anna’s laughter a bright counterpoint, even Edwin offering a grudging toast to their health.Lady Devon played the gracious hostess, though her smiles were tinged with melancholy, and Gabriel wondered if it was due to the knowledge of Carver’s true character.He hadn’t inquired further.That was Henley and Edwin’s responsibility, but Gabriel was thankful they had addressed the potential issue before it affected his new wife.
Yet as the breakfast continued, Gabriel could scarcely focus on the feast or the felicitations.His mind—and his gaze—kept drifting to Peregrine beside him, her hand occasionally brushing his under the table.All he craved was solitude with her, to shed the trappings of society and revel in their newfound union.The hours stretched interminably, polite chatter blurring into a haze, until finally, after what felt an eternity but was merely a few turns of the clock, they bid their farewells amid hugs and well-wishes.
“That was almost torture, but since treacle tarts were present, I can’t exactly give it the definition,” Pere teased as she took her seat in the carriage, her eyes warm with excitement.Boldly, she reached across the carriage and tugged on his hand.“Come, sit by me rather than across,” she encouraged, and without hesitation, he scooped her into his arms and placed her on his lap, on his side of the carriage.
“Much better,” he said, capturing her lips with his own.
Her small squeak of protest was quickly silenced as he charmed her with his kiss, needing to remind her of all the delights that awaited them.
The carriage rolled forward, and he adjusted his arms to steady her as they started back toward his residence, finally.He caressed her lower lip with his tongue before nipping its delicate softness with his teeth.She softly moaned, and he couldn’t stop the surely devilish grin as he deepened the kiss.His hands kneaded her hips, pulling her tightly against him, his body far too aware of her soft form and his increasingly hard one.
Pere leaned back just slightly, whispering against his lips, “Can they take the long way back?”
He didn’t answer directly, rather he rakishly traced her upper lip with his tongue, his body catching fire when she gave a soft tremble.
“As much as I love that idea, I’d rather continue at home, rather than in a carriage.More room,” he answered softly.
“Oh,” she murmured, arching her back and giving him delicious access to her neck.
He kissed down her jawline, his lips pausing at her collarbone, her pulse hammering against his lips.Desire swirled around him, reminding him that heaven was close and filling him with delicious anticipation.
The carriage rolled to stop, and with a reluctant chuckle, he savored the skin along the lace of her collar and pulled back, watching with intense pleasure the dizzy expression of desire in his wife’s gaze.
“Why did you stop?”Pere asked breathlessly.
