The Duke Before Christmas - Bianca Blythe Page 0,49

of this as they strode into the town, and she repeated the words like a mantra as they entered the church.

For a moment, she wondered if there wasn’t a vicar here after all, but then a man wearing a white collar popped up from a pew.

“Ah, you’ve arrived,” the vicar said.

“I’m sorry to take up your time,” Portia said.

“Oh, it won’t take any time at all,” the vicar said. “No ceremony is as quick as a wedding. And none as happy.”

“Well, thank you,” Portia said.

“Think nothing of it,” the vicar said. “I enjoy performing elopements.”

“You don’t object to them?”

“They’re romantic.” The vicar gave a broad smile. “It’s one of the many ways we feel Christ’s spirit.”

“Ah.” Portia looked warily at Mr. Andrews, as if she might see Christ’s spirit before him.

“Just a pity you can’t have more guests,” the vicar said.

“It’s the nature of elopements,” Mr. Andrews said.

“Quite. Quite.”

Portia had a pang as she thought about the people in Charlotte and Vernon’s drawing room. They must have realized that she was missing now.

Guilt moved through her. She didn’t want to ponder what Colin was thinking. She hoped he was not too embarrassed and could see that this truly was what was better for him.

“You look thoughtful,” Mr. Andrews said.

“Because she’s in a church,” the vicar exclaimed. “That’s what you’re supposed to do in a church. Think!”

“You’re right,” Portia said.

COLIN RUSHED THROUGH the snow, snowflakes prickling his face. He slipped and slid but refused to slow down. Not if it meant being too late to stop Portia’s wedding.

Finally, he arrived in the town. He said a silent prayer of gratitude that churches possessed steeples. It made finding them so much easier, and he sprinted toward the church, falling onto the icy ground only once.

A few nearby children giggled at his tumble, before quickly returning to their games. Colin was glad they found him less interesting than the likely new Christmas toys, even if his breeches were soaked with snow and likely marked with tears from his stumblings. With Portia’s imminent wedding, this was no time for fabric inspection, so he’d have to worry about Niles’s chastising later.

He rushed into the church, thankful it was open.

He looked around. Colin was fairly certain that the couple getting wed generally stood at the aisle, perhaps even kneeling at the altar, but this aisle was devoid of anyone.

“Portia?” he called into the church uncertainly.

No one answered, and his heart sank.

He was too late.

Then footsteps sounded, and Colin turned to see a vicar.

“Was a couple here?” Colin shouted, cringing at the way his voice boomed in the church.

“Yes,” the vicar said. “But they’ve left already.”

Colin’s stomach plummeted. Still, he’d expected this, and he raised his chin. “Where were they going?”

“They’re sailing back to England.”

“In this weather?”

“There’s a fishing boat that will take them. It’s not terribly large, compared to a ship, but it’s not terribly small either.”

“Forgive me,” Colin said, whirling around. “I have to go.”

“There’s something else you should know,” the vicar called after him.

“I haven’t got time,” Colin yelled, then pounded from the church.

He forgot about the snowy exterior, that had only become snowier and icier and more foreboding. Colin promptly fell onto the ice again. Pain moved through him, but he hobbled up and headed in the direction of the port. One would think the streets were paved with banana peels.

He scanned the port. A boat was leaving, and Colin hurried toward it.

“Stop!” he screamed. “Halt!”

A head poked from a door in the ship. A head he recognized. The most beautiful head in the world. Portia’s head. Long brunette hair swept about her, and her eyes widened.

“Stop!” Colin screamed.

She gestured to the captain, and Colin waited as men did complicated things with the sails.

Finally, the ship slowed, and Colin rushed down the dock toward it.

Then he remembered Portia might be here, but she was newly married...to someone else.

It didn’t matter that he’d stopped the boat.

Nothing mattered.

He’d been too late.

Perhaps there was no reason to run after them. Perhaps he should only withdraw, only resign himself to a life of dullness devoid of her.

“Colin?” Portia asked, moving toward him.

Another man was beside her. Mr. Rupert Andrews.

Colin decided that he instantly despised him.

“What are you doing here?” Portia asked.

“I wanted to stop the wedding,” Colin said. “I didn’t want you to marry anyone else. I wanted to see you again and haul you back to the church and get the vicar to tear up the marriage certificate.”

Portia gave him a sad smile. “That’s very gallant