Page 95 of A Virgin to Tempt the Duke

“And shall you,” the priest said, and Rachel drew a breath as though she had been waiting all morning just to be asked, “have this man to thy wedded husband, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death do you part?”

“I will gladly,” Rachel said, with a warmth so uncontained that several guests in the first three pews required their handkerchiefs.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you all husband and wife. Now, let us sign the registers.”

The registers were brought out and laid open on the vestry table, and the four of them crowded round it.

“One at a time, if you would,” the priest said, though there was no reproach in it. “I have signed a great many of these in my years, but never four in the same quarter hour, and I find I should like to get it right.”

Frederick signed first, his hand careful as a man double-checking his own name, and Anna watched the ink settle into thepage and thought that it looked very small for a thing that felt so large. Anna signed after him, steady in a way that surprised her. Then Thomas, quick and certain, and Rachel last, her signature looping and triumphant, so large it nearly ran into the margin.

“Well,” the priest said, blotting each in turn, “I don’t know that I’ve married two brides on the same morning before. I shall have to ask the bishop if there’s a proper term for it.” He capped the ink. “Though I daresay there ought to be, if this is to become fashionable.”

“Let us hope it isn’t,” Frederick said, “or you’ll never have a Sunday off again.”

The priest allowed himself a small, dry smile and closed the book.

When the papers were signed, and the music swelled, Frederick kissed Anna softly, as though the church was empty but for the two of them. Thomas, meanwhile, kissed Rachel with considerably less self-consciousness about the assembled witnesses, and the sound from the pews was rather louder.

The wedding breakfast at Rathbourne House was a grand event for only their closest friends and family. The dining room had been opened to its full length, the table dressed in white and gold linens. White flowers that had been at the church were set about the table. The guests moved through it all with the warm noiseof people who were genuinely happy, which, as Anna had noted before, was rarer than it should have been at London gatherings.

“My dear girl.” Lady Oldbarrow appeared at Anna’s. She took both of Anna’s hands and held them and looked at her with a genuine smile. “You look extraordinarily well for a woman who was in a fever bed eight weeks ago.”

“I had excellent care,” Anna said.

“Yes, you had Frederick,” Lady Oldbarrow said. She glanced across the room to where Frederick was receiving congratulations from a group of older gentlemen. “He looks rather better than usual as well. Something to do with the expression he isalmostmanaging to suppress.”

“He is trying very hard,” Anna agreed.

“He will get worse at suppressing it the more time he is with you, my dear,” Lady Oldbarrow said with satisfaction.

“I like the sound of that.”

“Good.” She patted Anna’s hand. “Now. I have been told that your cousin’s situation has resolved itself.”

“Frederick was very thorough about it,” Anna said.

Jonathan Cartwell’s removal from England had been accomplished with the same quiet, unhurried efficiency Frederick brought to all his business dealings. She had not asked for details. She had asked Frederick only whether it was done, once she had fully recovered. He had said yes, and that had been sufficient.

“He is settled abroad, permanently. He will not trouble anyone here again.”

“And I hear Wexford has married,” Lady Oldbarrow said, in the tone of someone introducing a pleasant subject. “Quite happily, from what I understand. A girl from Berkshire. They were engaged within a month of the Season ending.”

“I am very glad,” Anna said, and meant it simply. “He deserved someone who was entirely his.”

Lady Oldbarrow smiled. “As did you, my dear.” She glanced once more across the room and took up her fan. “Go and be with your husband. I intend to tell him at least twice this afternoon that I was responsible for the whole thing, and you needn’t be present for either conversation.”

“Were you?” Anna asked.

Lady Oldbarrow’s smile widened fractionally. “I was present at certain moments,” she said, with magnificent imprecision, and moved away into the crowd.

Thomas found Frederick near the windows, and the two of them stood together for a quiet moment.

“Well,” Thomas said, finally.

“Well,” Frederick agreed.

“I feel I should say something significant. I’ve been trying to come up with something since Tuesday.”