A Portrait of Love (The Academy of Love #3) - Minerva Spencer Page 0,60

so long as there are no children.”

It was her turn to blush. She did not tell him there would be no lovers. She had lived for twenty-eight years and had only kissed a man in the past month. The likelihood of her kissing another was less than slim.

Honey looked at the man who had been her dream for fourteen years. Part of her wanted to hit him with a brick and part of her wanted to weep. But the rest of her knew there was no way to avoid this.

She jerked out a nod. “Fine. I will marry you. But I absolutely do not want a grand ceremony.”

Chapter Nineteen

This is your last chance, Honey. It’s not too late,” Miles said.

Honey looked into Miles’s anxious blue eyes and smiled calmly. It wasn’t an act; she actually felt calm this morning. “I am ready, Miles.”

She was. She had been up since before dawn and had been wide awake and ready when Freddie knocked on her door to help her with her wedding day preparations.

Now they were sitting in St. Olav’s, waiting for the groom to arrive.

The three of them had arrived at the odd church early. It had amused Honey that her friends had eyed the gruesome entrance gate on Seething Street with more than a little trepidation.

“You picked this church?” Miles asked for at least the fifth time.

Honoria smiled. “Yes, Miles. I picked this church. My father used to bring me here. He greatly enjoyed the macabre atmosphere.

“Yes, an excellent spot for a wedding.”

Freddie laid a hand on his arm to quiet him, which she’d been doing almost constantly over the last three days, making Honey wonder—not for the first time—if there was more than friendship between her quiet friend and the gorgeous dancing master.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell the others,” Miles persisted.

By others he meant their friends from the Stefani school.

“I’ll tell them afterward,” Honey said, yet again.

She didn’t want them all rushing to London to attend the grim little ceremony. She especially didn’t want to answer the questions they’d ask—especially her friend Serena, who could have worked for the Inquisition.

“I want to tell you something,” Miles blurted, as if the words had used a battering iron to break free of his mouth.

“Miles—” Freddie began.

“No, Freddie. I shan’t forgive myself if I keep this from her.” He turned back to Honey, his usually lazy blue eyes burning. “Your betrothed was rather well-known on the Continent.”

Honey said nothing. Part of her wanted to hear what he had to say; part of her felt like she was engaging in gossip about a man to whom she owed her loyalties. Or at least some loyalty.

“Whenever there was a mission or skirmish or anything dangerous—something that no sane man would volunteer for—Major Lord Simon Fairchild would be at the top of the list. That is how I met him.” Miles shoved a hand through his soft golden curls, the action uncharacteristically jerky for such a graceful man. “He was part of a small group composed of four men from my unit and one other man who knew the way—Saybrook. Our mission was what is called a lightening attack. The target was a country estate where the frogs were said to be holding three officers captive.” Miles’s brow was sheened with sweat even though the church was cool.

“Miles, you don’t have—”

He continued as if he didn’t hear her. “Fairchild was only supposed to show us the way, wait in a separate location for us to complete our mission, and then return without us if we did not come back after twenty-four hours.” He let out a shaky sigh. “We walked right into a trap. They weren’t keeping any officers at the old house—at least nobody alive. Not only that, but they were not using the location as a prison. Instead, it was a staging area and they were an advance group.”

Miles swallowed hard; his gaze distant. “They started torturing us, one after another, working in a quick, brutal fashion that told us they’d soon be on the move again. I thanked God that Saybrook would be able to get back to HQ and tell them the truth—that it was—” he broke off, gulped, and shook his head. “Never mind what it was. Two of the men with me were dead within six hours. They were working on me and another man when the door swung open and Saybrook came striding in.” He made a sound of utter amazement at whatever it was he