As a polite applause began from their small congregation, Frederica felt Lord Padleigh’s pressure on her hand again.
Frederica had been to enough weddings to know that quite often, couples kissed at this point. Her heart hammered in her chest as she turned to face him, wondering what he would do now.
He lifted her hand upward, placing it to his lips. The soft press of his lips to the back of her hand startled her. She stared at him, her lips parted, fully aware that such a touch from him now made her heart thunder for reasons that had nothing to do with nerves.
“Lord Padleigh,” she whispered as the congregation continued to clap.
“No,” he said, just as softly. “My name is Allan, Frederica. From now on, we are husband and wife. That means I am Allan to you now.” Slowly, he looped her arm through his own and turned them to face the congregation. “Now, shall we face our guests and all the congratulations we are to receive?”
“And the censure,” she whispered, thinking of her parents.
“Ignore them,” he urged. Clearly, he had seen where she had looked in the pews.
He asks the impossible of me.
CHAPTERNINE
“Allan, ye have nae said much,” Gerard’s words cut through the haze of champagne Allan was drinking. He turned around in his dining room which had been set up for the grand wedding breakfast, and he stared at Stephen and Gerard.
Both men were staring back at him, their eyes wide with clear questions. Allan didn’t know what to say to either of them. He knew he should have been able to say anything. After all, Stephen was his closest friend in the world, and after returning home and being introduced to Charlotte’s Scottish husband, Gerard, they had become firm friends within a matter of weeks.
He trusted Stephen and Gerard more than he did any other gentleman in this world,, but speaking his thoughts at that moment seemed impossible.
“Another drink?” Stephen offered, as if reading his mind.
“Please.” Allan held out his glass as Stephen reached for a champagne bottle behind him and topped it up.
“You have barely stopped looking at her,” Stephen pointed out.
“Did ye see the way he stared at her in the ceremony?” Gerard said quietly.
“Yes, quite fixedly. A shooter doesn’t stare at his prey that hard.
“I can hear you both, you know,” Allan pointed out.
“We know,” they said in unison.
Allan shook his head and turned to looked away again.
Across the room through the small crowd which had gathered to celebrate his wedding, Allan could see his new wife.
My wife, Frederica.
For the first time that morning she was smiling,genuinelysmiling. She had been quiet in the ceremony, clearly nervous, and no amount of his comforting hand hold seemed to soften her nerves. Now that they were far away from the church, and she was sitting with Dorothy and Charlotte, she smiled with ease.
Why will she not smile that way at me?
Dorothy must have made some sort of jest as Charlotte laughed loudly, and Frederica laughed too though she raised her hand to cover her lips as if she thought she should not do it.
“Do you think she holds a fear of this world?” Allan asked his friends, thoughtfully.
“Fear?” Gerard repeated. “Ye mean the lass that is afraid to laugh and looks at her parents as if they are pointin’ a gun at her? Nay, she’s at ease with the world.” The thick, wry tone made Stephen laugh though Allan could not.
He was remembering how bold in speech Frederica had been before. Despite her shyness, he had seen that she could be witty and challenging, and he longed to see that self-assuredness resurface now, but it was as distant as the sun in the sky above.
“Remember all that has happened, Allan,” Stephen said, nudging him to get his attention again. “She ran once from scandal, and now she’s in a hurried wedding. Did you expect her to fall at your feet?”
“I never wanted that,” Allan protested.
