Jade Lee - [Bridal Favors 03] (25 page)

“Shall I come by in the morning? Escort you to Penny’s wedding?”

She bit her lip then shook her head. “It will be early, and I have my other protectors.” She gestured at the footmen who had melted seamlessly into their positions about the house, while the butler remained alert beside her in the hallway. “I shall meet you there.”

He had no choice but to accept her decree, though it felt like he had cut off his arm. Or perhaps, more like she had cut out his heart. Either way, there was nothing to do but nod and bow deeply over her hand.

Then he walked away.

Irene woke late on the morning of Penny’s wedding. She’d spent the night suffering nightmares of Grant turning into a violent lunatic, and she felt shaken and horrified by her own dreams. He was not mad—at least he wasn’t at the moment—and she was being ridiculous.

Yet there was no controlling her fear or her dreams. It didn’t help that her stomach was still tetchy. It always had been, truth be told, whenever she was anxious. But today was Penny’s day, and Irene refused to darken the celebration with her own anxieties.

She bathed as quickly as possible, dressing in a brand new gown made specifically for this day. And as a special treat, Penny had made matching shoes for all the ladies of the shop. Irene admired the perfect stitching in the light pink slippers. They weren’t practical, of course. Imagine walking about London in pink slippers! But they were beautiful, and Penny had written Irene’s name and the date on the sole. That made them just like real wedding slippers, except there was no groom’s name.

As Irene held the beautiful items, she imagined Grant’s name there. She pretend wrote his name with her finger. She put it right below hers, along with his full title. How wonderful that would be, she thought sadly, her heart clenching in longing.

How silly she was! How could she want something so desperately when her mind was busy listing the reasons it could never happen, and her emotions were chock full of fears regarding his sanity? He had responsibilities to his title and position. She had no desire to risk an insane husband, or worse, a damaged child. Not when her life was so perfectly ordered now.

And yet, she wanted it. Yearned for it, in fact. And all the logical reasons that it could not be didn’t seem to matter. She loved him. She wanted to take those risks. And yet, her fears made her hands tremble, especially with the nightmares so fresh in her mind. So with a sigh, she slipped on the beautiful shoes and tried to be happy wearing wedding slippers with only one name on the soles.

She arrived at the small church early for the ceremony, but late for the gathering of the bride’s friends. She felt ridiculous entering with two footmen—one walking in front, the other behind—and for the thousandth time, she cursed the paranoia that had created this situation. Fortunately, her friends understood as she knocked on the door that led to where the bride waited.

Penny bid them enter, and Irene waited in irritation as her footman scanned the interior and nodded, stepping back to allow her to finally greet her friends. Penny was radiant, her gown specially designed by Helaine to show off the girl’s curvy body without restricting her sometimes forceful movements. Penny was a powerful woman, in body and mind, as she was the sole support for herself and her toddler brother. And now, she had a man who loved her desperately and had an income, since Samuel was a runner. He was the perfect man, and Irene already knew the two would be radiantly happy.

She greeted Penny, handing over her gift in the form of a small box. Behind her, the other women—Helaine, Wendy, and Francine—all craned to see.

“What is it?” Penny asked.

“Open it and see.”

With a giggle, the girl pulled off the ribbon and looked inside. Her gasp of awe wiped away the last of the tension in Irene’s body. This was what life was about: good friends with happy faces, celebrating the wonder of life. Meanwhile, Penny pulled out a couple of the two-dozen pearl buttons that lay inside.

Irene smiled as everyone admired them. “They are the last that I could find in all of London. And they are for you, Penny, not some other lady’s shoes.”

“But what need do I have for such pretty things?” the girl whispered. “I’m just a cobbler’s daughter.”

“You are an artist who designs beautiful shoes. And you should wear these in your new shop. Make all the ladies envious as you walk around in slippers so amazing that everyone must have a pair.”

“Except,” inserted Francine with a giggle, “they won’t be able to get the pearls. They are just for you!”

“Oh, I shall be able to get more,” inserted Irene casually. “But not ones nearly so fine and not for another month at least.”

Ever the businesswoman, Penny looked up with a frown. “What if I charged an extra premium for more buttons just as beautiful as these? Would you be able to get them then?”

Irene grinned. “For you, my dear, of course!”

Then they hugged again, and everyone began talking weddings. Francine’s was coming up soon. She was marrying their bookkeeper, Anthony. Helaine mentioned Will and Josephine. The girl had purchased a whole trousseau, and Helaine was busy designing dresses for the wedding. Irene laughed as joyfully as the others. Or she did until she caught Wendy’s eyes. The seamstress looked sad. As far as Irene knew, the woman had no suitor and was too busy to find one. And the problem with Demon Damon was apparently still unresolved. No man would want to court a woman trapped in the Demon’s clutches, and so the girl was single—and apparently, wistful about the lack. Irene understood, having her own full measure of turbulent emotions regarding weddings.

The time flew by, and soon the ladies were making their way to the pews. Irene was surrounded by her footmen, but they took up discreet positions in the shadows. Irene was seated next to Helaine, who was reminiscing about her own unusual wedding day. Then suddenly, Irene felt a warm body press a little too closely.

Grant.

Her whole body welcomed him, even before she turned to greet him. Her spine softened, her belly warmed, and a smile curled her lips. And that was all before she actually saw him dressed in the finest fabric his mill made. It was a somber black, but the waistcoat sported a red and gold design that… she blinked. That perfectly matched the color of her gown. Yes, she was wearing the soft angora he had wrapped around her that day so long ago at the inn. Wendy had been able to repair the cut from the knife attack.

“Did you know I was going to wear this?”

He nodded, smiling. “I asked Carol. She told me.”

Irene grimaced. “That girl knows more about what I am doing than I do.”

“Which promises her a bright future as a secretary.”

Irene nodded as her gaze flowed over him. He appeared relaxed. Actually, he looked stunningly handsome, but what she felt took her in the opposite direction. He seemed tense. His eyes constantly roved the church then abruptly returned to scan her. His hands were set calmly to either side of his legs, but they twitched restlessly. He was not so calm as he pretended, and she supposed she understood why.

His confession yesterday lingered in their thoughts. It would take some time before he understood that she had no intention of shunning him because of his previous madness. But he wanted more than simple friendship, and as her body ached for him, her mind kept her apart. In the end, she did the best she could. She touched his hands, quietly intertwining their fingers.

“I am glad you are here,” she whispered.

He clutched her hand tight and flashed her a grateful smile. “I would be nowhere else.”

Then the ceremony began. Samuel waited in resplendent attire at the front of the church. His brother served as attendant, looking supremely happy, even as he muttered something to the groom.

“I’m not fidgeting,” Samuel responded, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I have simply worked out who stole that silly tiara and wanted to make a note—” His voice cut off, his thoughts obviously lost as his bride walked in.

As Penny’s father was gone, Lord Redhill walked her down the aisle. Beside Irene, Helaine released a soft sigh of delight. Penny carried hothouse roses, brought by Helaine, but even those rich blooms paled at the happiness in Penny’s face. She was stunning, her eyes so filled with happiness that Irene’s chest ached. The woman’s step never faltered, her gaze never wavered. And when the two met at the altar, it was as if two halves of a perfect whole snapped together. They touched, they smiled, and when it came time for vows, their voices were strong and clear.

Wedded. And with no doubts whatsoever, Irene realized. “Amazing,” she murmured. Even as in love as she’d been with Nate, her voice had trembled over her vows. She’d had fears, especially as none of her family had come to the wedding to wish her happiness.

But Penny and Samuel had all their friends and family around them. And the strength of their bond rang louder than their words, stronger than their rings. It was there in every gesture, every grin, and in their sparkling eyes.

“Oh, to love like that,” she whispered.

“So sure,” Grant murmured.

“So strong.”

He looked at her then, and she met his gaze. He knew. She read the understanding in his face just as clearly as he read the doubts in her own.

“Grant…” she whispered, but he cut her off.

“Don’t fret. I don’t blame you for a moment.”

But she blamed herself. He was a good man. And he was
not
mad. How did one simply forget fear? How could she simply close her mind to such concerns? He squeezed her hand and looked away. She saw heartbreak in the way he held himself stiffly beside her. His profile was remote, but he still held her hand. She took solace in that.

To cover the moment, she grabbed for a question—anything to ease the awkwardness. “Are you coming to the wedding breakfast?”

“Yes, of course.”

Meanwhile, the couple turned to the congregation, and people were rising to congratulate them. Like everyone else, he pushed to his feet, but she could hear his words clearly.

“The breakfast and the shop unveiling after that.”

“The what?”

He laughed. “Carol really does know your schedule better than you do. After the breakfast, Penny is going to open her newly designed shoe shop for us to see.”

“Oh, how wonderful!” she gasped. “She’s been working hard on that for months.”

He didn’t answer. They made it to the top of the line and were busy congratulating Samuel and giving best wishes to Penny. It was rushed with all the people, but the wishes were enthusiastic, and Irene found herself grinning. It was impossible to dwell on her worries in the face of such joy. So she embraced happiness as she kissed Penny’s cheek.

Then they moved aside, and Grant joined her in the carriage that would take them to the wedding breakfast, generously hosted by Lord and Lady Redhill. Even more, it would include special cakes made by Francine herself.

All of that flitted through her thoughts, a brief moment of knowledge soon lost as she looked at Grant. He loved her, she realized. Though he had never said it aloud, the knowledge was a quiet assurance that still managed to crackle and pop in her mind—like a fire roaring to life.

He loved her.

She loved him.

And yet, they held apart from each other. Fear. Duty. Madness. Only words, but they were like bricks set between them as impenetrable as any wall.

“I understand, Irene. It’s a hard thing to wed a lunatic.”

She spit out a very unladylike curse. “You move from one extreme to another, my lord. And it makes me want to scratch your eyes out!”

He recoiled, obviously startled. “And you accuse me of being extreme?” he said blandly. He was retreating into his charming persona, but she would not let him do it.

“Do you not see? You cannot just win a bet. You have to learn how to blow fire and burn down a barn to do it. You cannot just work at a mill. You change your name and separate yourself from your family for years. You cannot just hear the voice of your conscience. You are a violent lunatic, whom—I might point out—is neither violent, nor hearing things anymore. And yet you put me in fear for our children.” She huffed out an angry breath. “It is not hard to love a lunatic, my lord. It is hard to wed a man who cannot simply be… simple.”

He arched his brows. “Simple?”

She huffed. “Not simple stupid. Simple, as in not complicated.” She twisted on the seat to look at him directly. “Grant, do you not see that you are fighting me? I think you are Mr. Grant, and then I find out you are Lord Crowle. We are attacked by a footpad, and you turn it into a murder attempt. I tell you I love you. You tell me you are insane. It’s not a voice in your head that makes you mad, Grant. It’s the way you cannot simply be a man in love. A man who wants to marry a woman.”

He looked at her a long moment, but in the end, he shook his head. When he spoke, his voice was soft, with such aching sadness that it broke her heart. “I cannot be a young boy for you just as you cannot be a naïve girl for me. I am thirty-two years old, Irene. I have lived a strange life, and as much as I try to make it easy, it isn’t. Not now, and probably not ever.”

“I’m not asking for an easy life.”

“Aren’t you? You’re asking me to simply be a man in love with a woman. I am. I love you, Irene. I want to marry you.”

Oh, to finally hear those words now, when her thoughts and her heart were at war. They warmed her. They frightened her. And most of all, they had her pressing her hands to her eyes to hold back the tears. “But what of your title? You need a virgin wife who doesn’t work. What if our children are mad? What if—”

“Irene,” he said softly, the quietness of his words stopping hers. “Those are not my objections, but yours.” Then he gently pulled her hands from her face. And while she was trying desperately to steady her breathing, he slid off the seat of the carriage and onto one knee. “I had not meant to do it now, but I can see that you will make me do this over and over until we come to the right answer. Lady Irene, I love you. Will you do me the greatest honor and become my wife?”