Tempting the Footman (House of Devon #5) - Lauren Smith Page 0,48

snarled.

The man glared hatefully over Adrian’s shoulder at Venetia.

“She’s not your wife yet. I am her cousin, and I have a say in who she marries. And it certainly won’t be to some bastard like you!”

Adrian curled his hands into fists, ignoring the anxious stares of the wedding guests all around them.

“You must be Lord Latham, the oafish cousin I’ve heard so much about.”

Adrian heard Lady Latham snort somewhere behind him.

Venetia’s hand pressed lightly against his back, giving him silent support as she spoke to her cousin.

“Patrick, you must leave. I reached the age of majority three years ago. I do not need anyone’s permission to marry, least of all yours.” Venetia’s voice was calm, but Adrian could feel a slight trembling in her as she pressed against him from behind.

“Think carefully, cousin,” Patrick warned. “I’m a peer now. You will lose all of your friends and connections, and I will make sure you aren’t welcome anywhere. Your children will be the product of a bast—”

Adrian hit Patrick square in the jaw. The man yelped and staggered back, clutching his face.

“You’ve just assaulted a peer of the realm! I could see you hanged!” Patrick snapped.

Peregrine stepped up beside Adrian. “I don’t see how, Latham. After all, you hit your face on the edge of a pew when you tripped while attending your beloved cousin’s wedding. Very unfortunate.”

“What!” Patrick shouted. “No one would agree to lie—”

Peregrine glanced around. “Did anyone see this man struck by a fist?” Not a single wedding guest made a sound. “Did anyone see him trip?” They all stared contemptuously at Patrick, and a rumble of agreement rolled through the pews.

Peregrine smiled grimly. “I believe it’s time you left.” He bent, gripped Patrick’s arm, and dragged him toward the exit at the rear of the church.

“Oh, Adrian,” Venetia whispered. “I’m so sorry about this.”

Adrian gently took his fiancée’s hands and smiled at her, letting her know all was well. With a look to Lord Bainbridge, who nodded in approval, Adrian walked Venetia to the altar himself.

The clergyman cleared his throat. “Let us begin.”

Adrian held Venetia’s hands in his, speaking his vows and listening to hers. Once it was done, he stole a kiss that made Benjamin cheer. Then they turned to face the assembled guests in the church, seeing the servants of Hartland who had been his family these last ten years, as well as the Duke and Duchess of Devon, who beamed at him with pride. His gaze fell last on Venetia’s grandmother, who wiped a tear from her wrinkled cheek.

“Well done, my boy,” she said. “Very well done.”

Adrian’s throat tightened as he realized that in her way, Lady Latham was saying that she welcomed him to the family.

Venetia smiled at him, the sort of smile he thought he would only ever see in a dream, one that seemed to outshine the sun itself.

“Tell me what you are thinking,” she prompted.

Adrian brushed his fingertips over her lips. “I’m thinking that no man will ever be as blessed as I am to go from footman to husband—especially to your husband.”

Venetia’s eyes twinkled. “I think I am rather glad I sprained my ankle, or else we might never have met.”

He burst out laughing, and she wrinkled her brow in confusion.

“What?” she asked.

“I believe your grandmother would have found a way to bring us together, regardless. She’s very clever.”

“She is indeed.” Venetia turned thoughtful eyes toward her grandmother. “Very clever.”

Lady Latham gripped her cane and smiled back at them, as if she knew exactly what they were saying about her.

“But she couldn’t possibly have guessed all that would happen,” Venetia mused.

“She didn’t need to. She only needed to do one thing,” Adrian said.

“What’s that?”

“To make sure that I would be tempted by you.” He gazed at her kissable lips, uncaring of the guests nearby.

Venetia’s eyes softened. “And were you?”

“Never was there a man in all of England so tempted.”

Adrian leaned down and stole another kiss, one that would scandalize everyone present, but he didn’t care.

One week later

Venetia watched her husband enjoy his breakfast and peruse the newspaper in their new London townhouse. Gwen was out having tea with a few friends early in the morning and had left Venetia and her new husband alone. Venetia took advantage of the time to watch her husband unobserved. How she adored him…even as he was frowning slightly as he read, she’d learned he did that when he was focusing intently on something.

He was still getting used to the more relaxed life of