Lucy blinked at him, trying to look innocent. “What were you thinking about?”
“Never mind. My point is, once you see him, all these fears will float away.”
Lucy nodded, and her father pulled the chamber door open.
“And if they don’t, I can always kill him.”
***
DUNCAN FORCED HIMSELFto stand still at the front of the church. For the thousandth time he told himself that Lucy hadn’t changed her mind. She wouldn’t change her mind.
His gaze swept over the guests. There was Baron and his wife, Lady Keating. Lucy’s brother, Willoughby, and his wife, Lady Emily, were there right beside Hew and his wife, Belle.
On the other side of the nave were Duncan’s family. His mother and father, his brothers and sisters and their spouses. When Lady Smythe entered, Duncan drew a shaky breath. He was half afraid she’d come to tell the assembly Lucy had fled. Instead, Lucy’s mother took a seat in the front pew and smiled.
Duncan heard the chapel door open, and his gaze shot to the far end of the long aisle running down the center of the church. An unseen hand snatched his breath away at the vision that greeted him. Lucy in white looked like an angel.
Now her father walking beside her, he might have been the devil. He was scowling and eyeing Duncan threateningly. While Lucy’s mother had a rather fearsome reputation, it was her father who had put the fear of God in Duncan when he’d dined with her family. During port and cigars after dinner, Lord Smythe pulled Duncan aside and told him if he ever hurt Lucy or made her cry, Smythe would personally kill him. With his bare hands. Slowly.
Lucy’s brother, Will, had laughed as though his father was making a joke. Later Duncan had asked Will if Lord Smythe had been serious. “Of course not. If you hurt Lucy, he’d let her kill you then help her bury the body.”
“I’m not certain marrying into a family of agents was the best idea,” Duncan had said.
“Rubbish.” Will had slapped Duncan on the shoulder. “We’re glad to have you.”
“Is that why you punched me when Lucy and I told you we were engaged?”
“I was taken by surprise.”
“Remind me not to surprise you again.”
“As long as Lucy is happy, I’m happy,” Will had said.
At that moment, as she walked down the aisle, Lucy looked radiantly happy. She wore an almost sheer veil that couldn’t hide her smile or her flashing eyes. And Duncan thought he could just make out her dimples.
“Who gives this woman to this man?” the bishop asked.
“I do,” Lord Smythe said, and he placed Lucy’s gloved hand in Duncan’s.
Duncan didn’t hear the rest of the ceremony. All he could do was look into Lucy’s eyes. He hadn’t ever dared dream she would be his wife.Hiswife. He was half afraid if he moved too quickly, he would wake from this dream.
But the dream continued as the bishop pronounced them man and wife and then they rode in an open carriage festooned with flowers to the Smythe residence, where tables and chairs had been set up in the garden and a small breakfast served.
Duncan didn’t remember eating anything. He’d raised his glass any number of times. And then Lucy had leaned close and whispered, “Let’s take our leave.”
Duncan didn’t need to be asked twice. “Good idea. It will take at least an hour to say our good-byes.”
Lucy shook her head. “We’re agents for the Crown, Duncan. If we can’t make it out of here unseen, we don’t deserve the title.”
Duncan raised his brows. “A challenge? I like it.”
They agreed to meet on the other side of the garden gate and hail a hackney to Mivart’s, where they would stay tonight. Baron had assigned them a mission in Wales, and they would have to leave tomorrow. But neither of them minded. They would be together and doing what they loved.
Duncan wove through the guests and slipped out the gate, hearing it latch quietly behind him. “How’s that for evasive maneuvers,” he muttered to himself.
“Very good, sir.”
Duncan jumped. Out of seemingly nowhere, an elderly man had appeared holding his coat and hat. “Wallace,” the man said as though reading Duncan’s surprised expression. “The Smythe’s butler. I thought you might want these.”
