Making of a Scandal - Victoria Vale Page 0,124

hackney. Benedict’s voice hadn’t grown any thinner, but he didn’t look back to confirm that the man was on his heels.

He dashed out in front of a carriage, shouting apologies at the driver screaming epithets at him while pulling back on the ribbons. A hack had rolled to a stop across the street, and he leaped into it just as its occupant was descending, ignoring the man’s shocked exclamation as he bellowed at the driver.

“Get me to St. George’s as fast as you can, and I’ll triple the fare.”

Benedict’s face appeared through the window of the hackney. “Dominick! Goddamn it, don’t do this!”

Clenching his jaw, he turned his head to avoid his friend’s gaze as the hackney pulled away, refusing to acknowledge the sputtered curses that eventually faded away. The hackney dipped and swayed, tipping a bit as it barreled around a corner. His driver was determined to earn the promised fare, though Dominick wondered if he would even make it in one piece.

It seemed to take an eternity to reach Hanover Square, and by then Nick’s panic had reached its zenith. His watch showed ten minutes past ten o’clock—the ceremony had already begun. He tore his entire purse from within his coat and hurled it at the driver without bothering to worry about how much was inside. It was more than anyone had ever paid for a hackney ride, that was for certain.

The murmur of the vicar’s droning voice echoed through the doors at him, swelling ominously as Nick yanked one open and dashed inside. The pews were packed from front to back, with what seemed like the entire ton in attendance for what had already been hailed the most anticipated wedding of the year.

Nick dashed down the aisle, aware of the swiveling heads, slackened mouths, and wide eyes, murmurs of confusion drowning out the solemn words of the clergyman. But he could spare no thought for them as his gaze fell on Calliope and held. He halted halfway to the altar, sucking in great gulps of much-needed air as she and Lewes went still, trading confused looks as they realized something was amiss. The vicar had gone silent, eyes bulging as he stared at Nick over the rims of half-moon spectacles. One could have heard a pin drop as the entire assembly went silent, the sound of his harsh breathing the only thing that could be heard as Calliope slowly turned, her bouquet falling to the floor as their gazes met.

He nearly lost his hold on good sense as she faced him, looking every bit the goddess in her wedding gown, the colorful drape of the fabric at her shoulder, and the glitter of her jewels. Breathing became difficult again for an entirely different reason than his mad dash into the church. He wanted to charge up the aisle and lift her off her feet, carry her out of this place and never look back.

Nick faintly made notice of Lewes, who stood beside her looking at him in slack-jawed shock, his face reddening to the roots of his hair as that shock transformed into rage. But, Nick ignored the inconsequential presence of the groom who wouldn’t be one much longer if he had his way.

“Calliope,” he called out, finally finding his voice.

Even from where he stood, Nick could see the play of emotions over her face—confusion, shock, terror. But then … something else; something that gave him the strength to take another step and then another. It was a reflection of the same hope that had brought him here, that drove him to force words past his lips.

“I almost made the biggest mistake of my life today. You see, I had convinced myself that I had lost you, that you were out of my reach. But, I’ve come to my senses.”

“Oh, thank God,” a voice murmured from Calliope’s left—her sister, Diana.

“Dominick,” Calliope whispered, so low he almost didn’t hear her. “What are you doing?”

He swallowed, opening his mouth to continue when he was interrupted by Lewes.

“Making a fool of himself, that’s what. Mr. Burke, you have already been rebuffed once. Must you compound the embarrassment of yourself as well as my fiancée with this ungentlemanly display?”

Nick’s hands curled into fists, and he’d nearly decided that he had waited long enough to knock Lewes’s teeth down his throat, when Calliope held up one hand.

“Let him speak.”

Gasps and whispers rippled through the congregation all at once, the noisy din nearly drowning out Lewes’s growl of outrage.

“Calliope!”

She ignored her groom and

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