windows, and despite the staff’s best efforts to warm the interior, it was still chilly when the house party guests drove down to the chapel to observe the nuptials of Robert Wynter, Earl of Deerwood who would marry Amelia Middleton, Viscountess of Danby. The Manor’s staff had been busy decorating the interior with greenery and hothouse flowers while trying to drive out the seeping cold within the old building. The chapel already was half full as the news of the earl’s sudden wedding had spread through the local village, so most of his tenants and neighbors with their families had appeared uninvited to share in their lord’s joy.
Yet he was not joyful. For conflicting emotions tore through Graham.
The memory of the fight he had with his father a couple hours ago had his heart icing over.
Do I love you, Callie?
Her laugh made him happy, just seeing her filled his heart with joy. And the memory of the way she had taken him into her body had him biting back a groan. She was the most incredible lover he’d ever had, but it was more than that. Graham wanted to fulfill every need and hunger he had spied in her eyes as they had talked in the cabin. He wanted to lay all her dreams at her feet and provide his shoulders to rest upon whenever she needed them.
He had never been a man given to flights of fancy or over-sentimentality, and that was how he had known the feelings rushing through his heart and tormenting his mind were the deepest of tendre.
Graham glanced at his father. He was already waiting by the altar, walking up and down agitated and trying not to fiddle with the neat arrangement of his cravat. The earl had worn a golden silk waistcoat with a pale gray suit of clothes for his special day. He looked dashing despite his impatience for his bride to arrive.
Despite their argument, Graham had agreed to be his best man, so he waited with him, somewhat amused by his father’s nerves. They had greeted the tenants and neighbors who had appeared at the church and shaken many hands. The chapel was far enough from the house in this inclement weather to necessitate them driving along the lanes in a stream of carriages, which had deposited them at the chapel door before parking as best they could. For the coachmen, it would be a cold wait.
Among the guests, there were undercurrents of excitement, surprise, and some chagrin by Miss Penelope Barrows over the unexpected marriage of so sought-after a groom. They were still gossiping together as they filed into the chapel to find their seats. As the last guest seated, a hush settled over the small gathering as they waited for the bride. They were listening for one last carriage to appear, and then in the distance, they heard the clip-clop of the earl’s high-stepping matched grays, as he had decided his best team should honor the bride on their wedding day.
The carriage pulled up outside the old ivy-clad chapel, and a footman raced to let the step down. The three bridesmaids gracefully descended, all dressed in white, although their dresses did not match; they had chosen to be warmly wrapped in festive shawls of scarlet, crimson, and green. His sister, Emma, who would become their stepsister had joined Callie and Letty.
Christ. As he would become their stepbrother.
Graham did his best not to stare at Callie’s loveliness. This morning she wore a low-cut white gown, with her hair caught in a loose chignon. She met his eyes, and her cheeks blushed apple red. Then she hurriedly looked away. He tore his gaze from her and concentrated on the carriage, hating the heaviness forming in his heart.
They waited while the bride was handed out. Lady Danby wore a pale blue gown she had covered with her dark gray cloak to travel the scant distance to the chapel. She shrugged off its warmth to enter the church, and Callie handed it to the footman. Sometime overnight they had located a long cream veil in priceless Chantilly lace upon which was set a small diamond tiara, which was part of the Wynter family jewels. Bouquets of ivy and white roses had been made, and each of the girls carried a smaller version of the one the viscountess carried herself. The bride had chosen not to be given away as she was a widow, an orphan, and of age. So she would walk down the