“I’ll fix everything,” he promised.
And then he walked toward the archbishop and Lady Georgiana Honeyfield without a clue in mind. All he knew was that he had just made his aunt a promise he had to keep.
The smile on the young woman’s face was tight, as if she’d carefully stitched it together. Except he could sense the tension radiating off her as he neared, clearly impatient.
He met her gaze for only a second. It was enough to send a shock through his entire system.
Before he made his way up to the platform, he veered slightly to the side. Her father was frowning. He always frowned, from what Owen understood, but he looked even less cheerful than his daughter.
“Where is the groom?” Lord Lincoln demanded when Owen reached his side.
Still holding the letter from his aunt, Owen glanced around before handing it to him. It was best to simply address the problem. “I’m afraid Benedict is otherwise engaged. Permanently.”
The Earl let out a low curse. They paused, glancing around to see who might have heard him. Few did, and they turned back to each other.
“This is unacceptable,” Ernest Honeyfield said. He rubbed his jaw hard. “We have a contract.”
“The wedding plans need to change. That much is true.”
Owen paused as he weighed the options. He couldn’t resist glancing back at the bride. The Earl’s daughter was a fine picture standing up beside the archbishop. While her yellow dress carried more lace than he thought necessary, the color complimented her hair and skin. She stood tall over the toddling man and looked back at him.
Feeling the hairs on his arms stand on end, Owen wondered if she could hear them. They were just at the bottom of the stairs. He would only need to take two steps to touch her shoulder or cheek. When she blinked, he could have sworn he glimpsed a smile before it disappeared.
The intensity of her stare became too much for him. He turned back to her father.
The Earl was only growing agitated. Rubbing his jaw, he shifted his weight between his feet and shook his head.
“It won’t do,” he announced. “I won’t have it. No one embarrasses the Earl of Lincoln.”
Owen steeled his spine, searching for the right words to calm the Earl. Lord Lincoln was an influential politician with connections around the globe. No one wanted to insult him. Owen would have to handle the rest of this conversation carefully because the man was influential in Parliament. It would help to have Ernest as an ally and not an enemy.
Which he was quickly becoming, judging by Ernest’s glare.
But what the devil am I to do about this? Aunt Augusta cannot do anything, she’s only the poor messenger. Her husband will be off, wandering around uselessly, and Benedict… Blast the fool. If I have to make a guess, he’ll be halfway to Gretna Green by now.
“I will call him out. That’s what I’ll do. And his coward of a father, wherever he might be.” Ernest rubbed his hands together, looking twice a villain instead of a gentleman. “That will have to mend my daughters’ reputations. A duel will set this to rights––”
With the horrid shot Benedict is? I don’t think so.
“That’s all right,” Owen cut in before the man could turn his idea into action. “Your daughter shall marry today. She won’t be ruined.”
“If only she were still alive…” the Earl muttered under his breath. But he didn’t speak loud enough for Owen to understand, making him wonder if the words were even meant for his ears. Crossing his arms, the older man stared him down. He looked ready for a fight. For a war. “How do you propose to fix it? Do you know where that boy is?”
“He’s a grown man,” Owen responded coldly, in his cousin’s defense.
But every precious second around that was needed to come up with a solution. Time was ticking by. He could feel other eyes on him. Everyone was waiting, watching, wondering what might happen. What was he to do?
“He would be here if he could. But he couldn’t. Instead…”
“Well?”
While Owen didn’t consider himself a man who panicked, especially since he had spent years trying to forget the horrors of his upbringing, he didn’t know what compelled him to say what he said next. Over the years, he had fought so much to have his freedom. But that freedom disappeared for good the moment he spoke.
“Because she’ll marry me instead.”
There wasn’t time for him to consider the words he had just uttered. He didn’t need a wife. He had never planned to take one. There was another distant cousin who could inherit the title. Losing his parents had shown him he didn’t need any other family.
“What?” came a sharp hiss.