The Actor and the Earl (4 page)

“
B
RONWYN
’
S
wedding will be the talk of the town,” said Claire as she tied the ribbon of Sebastian’s sleeve firmly in place. “It’s as if no one can speak of anything else since Earl Crofton was spotted arriving here the other night.”

Sebastian grunted as Claire tightened his corset. “You cannot begin to comprehend how little joy that brings me.”

Claire ignored him. “Mrs. Livens, you know, the old one with the limp, stopped me yesterday. She’d heard all three crying of the banns and was so excited.”

“That may be so, but even after hearing three times in church our intention to marry, I doubt she’d be so excited if she knew the truth.”

“Of course she wouldn’t, but it’s nice to see people so happy. Weddings do that to people.”

“They don’t do that to me.”

Sebastian slid his feet into a pair of slippers that looked far daintier than they actually were. He checked his makeup one last time and pulled on his wig to make sure it was firmly seated. “So,” he said, arms out wide, “do I make the perfect picture of a blushing bride?”

He didn’t protest as she weaved a selection of wildflowers into the ringlets of the wig and handed him a garland of roses and rosemary. “Earl Crofton will be very happy, I’m sure. Now come on, no point in keeping him waiting at the church.”

“No point, but I wish I could!”

Sebastian followed Claire downstairs. His cousin had a new dress for the occasion. It was blue silk with a yellow skirt and lining, and Sebastian suspected it probably cost as much as the one he was wearing. The front door opened, and a small band of musicians burst into life, playing a lively melody to accompany Sebastian as he descended the steps. The musicians led the procession, which grew in number as Sebastian travelled through the streets on the way to the church. They made the narrow streets difficult to pass for anyone not part of the group, but no one seemed to mind, bystanders clapping or shouting out well wishes as he passed. The one small mercy he had was that Claire was his sole family member in attendance, his uncle far too busy travelling for business to attend the marriage of a niece he had no real interest in.

The mild weather, and the sun keeping the rain at bay, meant the neighbors had turned out in force to accompany the bridal procession. There were more people in the crowd that he didn’t recognize than ones he did, which as far as Sebastian was concerned was much more preferable. He was relieved that, as far as he could tell, no one from any of the theaters had heard there was a wedding in the area and turned up to watch out of general interest, only to identify him straightaway.

Children ran alongside, laughing and singing, while the adults clapped and danced. It had been years since Sebastian had been involved in a wedding procession, and despite the absurdity of the situation he found himself in, Sebastian enjoyed being at the center of the crowd. They entered the grounds of the church through the lych-gate and snaked along the pathway. In the distance, Sebastian saw Anthony enter the church ahead of them.

The musicians stopped playing, and each collected a coin from Claire before bowing and taking their leave. Sebastian held back as the guests filed into the church, until he stood alone, waiting to enter. Taking a moment to stare around the churchyard, he could see the Thames ahead of them, the Swan Theater in the distance. For a fleeting moment he wanted to run, but he had given his word, and he wouldn’t back down, not now he’d come this far.

From the archway, Claire beckoned him to hurry up, and with one last look at the theater, he climbed the steps to the church.

“Ready to become Lady Bronwyn Crofton?”

“Strangely enough, I am. It is a pity that my brother could not be here to give me away,” said Sebastian, the sarcasm clear.

“Yes, a terrible shame. But I am sure he is with you in spirit and will visit once you are ensconced in Crofton Hall.”

“I do hope so. I would like him to be my constant companion.”

“And I’m sure your new husband won’t object,” replied Claire with a wink.

Sebastian rolled his eyes and ignored her. “Time for Bronwyn to get married.”

The joviality of the wedding procession left behind, Sebastian entered the church and almost stumbled at the sight before him. The church was full, a sea of faces standing and staring as he began the slow walk down the aisle. By the cut and color of their clothes, London’s elite had gathered to see Bronwyn marry Earl Crofton. Sebastian mentally kicked himself for not realizing earlier that the marriage of a man like Anthony, a man who was the darling of the court, would of course draw crowds of interested onlookers. Many of the women were looking at him with open curiosity, the blatant question of why Earl Crofton would want to marry such a plain creature clear on their faces. The men were no better. And Sebastian was suddenly very glad it was him, not Bronwyn, who was here, doubting his sister’s temper would’ve held.

Ignoring them, Sebastian held his head high and carried on walking toward the altar where Anthony stood waiting, looking magnificent in a gold doublet and breeches and knee-length amber cape. His blinding smile made the man ridiculously handsome, and Sebastian suspected the earl was aware of the effect of his striking appearance.

Anthony took his hand as Sebastian joined him at the altar. The minister cleared his throat, opened the Book of Common Prayer, and began to read.

“Dearly beloved friends, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of his congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is an honorable state, instituted of God in Paradise, in the time of man’s innocence, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church: which holy state Christ adorned and beautified with his presence and first miracle that he wrought in Cana of Galilee, and is commended of Saint Paul to be honorable among all men, and therefore is not to be enterprised, nor taken in hand unadvisedly, lightly, or wantonly, to satisfy men’s carnal lusts and appetites, like brute beasts that have no understanding; but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God, duly considering the causes for which matrimony was ordained.”

Sebastian recognized the words. He had attended several weddings, but it did not prepare him for the sudden wretchedness that he felt. He’d never considered himself particularly religious, but for the first time, it struck him that they would be in serious trouble if they were discovered. He half hoped that someone would speak up at the point where the minister asked if there were any known impediments to the marriage, to stop the charade in its tracks. But no one spoke, and the ceremony continued on.

The minister turned to Anthony. “Anthony Henry Crofton, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to love together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her, in sickness and in health? And forsaking all others, keep thee only to her, so long as you both shall live?”

“I will.”

Sebastian swallowed at the look of intent on Anthony’s face and the way his eyes appeared to sparkle mischievously.

“Bronwyn Anne Hewel, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to love together after God’s ordnance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him and serve him, love, honor, and keep him, in sickness and in health? And forsaking all others, keep thee only to him so long as ye both shall live?”

Sebastian almost missed his cue, but a gentle squeeze from Anthony kept him on script. “I will.”

At least Claire was paying attention, stepping forward in response to who was giving Bronwyn away, and Anthony certainly knew his lines as he repeated: “I, Anthony, take thee, Bronwyn, to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance, and thereto I plight thee my troth.”

Sebastian stammered his way through his reciprocating vows, more nervous than on any opening night. Anthony laid a simple band of gold on the open prayer book as instructed by the minister, who picked it up and handed it back to Anthony. “Repeat after me: with this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

Sebastian watched as the gold band slid onto the ring finger of his left hand as Anthony repeated the minister’s words. He looked up as Anthony leaned in on the minister’s direction to kiss his bride. His breath hitched as Anthony’s lips brushed against his own.

He hardly heard the psalm of Deus misereatur, or the blessing that their union would be fruitful, as he and Anthony kneeled at the altar. Once the minister had finished and all the prayers had been offered, Anthony helped him stand. Sebastian followed blindly as he was guided him back down the aisle into the morning sunshine.

A line of coaches were waiting at the gates of the church. Anthony took Sebastian’s hand and rested it in the crook of his arm as the wedding guests filed out of the church. “Come, my love. Our wedding feast awaits us over the river.”

“Over the river?”

“Yes, my London residence is in Holborn. We will entertain our guests before departing for Crofton Hall tomorrow,” said Anthony, sounding amused at Sebastian’s confusion. “Your cousin did tell you, did she not?”

Sebastian vaguely remembered one of what could’ve been a thousand conversations, and also realized that there was no way that the Croftons would’ve lived in property on the less favored south side of the city. He slowly nodded. “Of course. It is the excitement of the day; I am amazed I can even remember my own name.”

The door to the front coach was opened by the driver, and Sebastian picked up his skirts and carefully climbed aboard, Anthony following closely. The door closed behind them, and they were alone.

Anthony sat down and patted the seat next to him. “No need to look quite so nervous, Sebastian. The journey is far too short to ravish you properly.”

Sebastian laughed, Anthony’s joke bursting the bubble of tension he was carrying, and sat down. “It would take you an age just to get past the whalebone in this outfit.”

“Then I will look forward to the challenge later.”

The coach lurched forward and set off a slow trundle across the cobbles toward London Bridge.

“But in all seriousness, have you considered my offer?” asked Anthony as he laid a hand on Sebastian’s thigh.

“It has been one of many thoughts that have occupied me in the last few days.”

“And?”

“I am no prize, Anthony. I cannot see, apart from convenience, what you will be gaining.”

Anthony cupped his cheek. “I do not know why you would think so little of your worth.”

“The fact that my best hope for a future is to masquerade as a woman should give you all the answers you need.”

“Nonsense. All that proves is that you are a great actor. I am merely recognizing that.”

As far as he could tell, there was no insincerity in Anthony’s words. “I….”

“I should not press you.”

Sebastian couldn’t remember the last time his heart had beaten so fast, but with Anthony’s hand on his face and the warm, spicy scent that came from the other man, his heart pounded in his chest.

“Maybe I want to be pressed.”

And as Anthony’s lips brushed against his own, he thought his rib cage would explode. The kiss was gentle, cautious even, and Sebastian returned it in the same fashion. He had kissed people, not as many as some, but no one else he had kissed had made him feel so alive.

Anthony pulled back. “I don’t want to smudge your makeup,” he said as he stroked his thumb across Sebastian’s bottom lip. “As much as I hate the courtly whim for women to paint their faces white, I don’t think you would appreciate arriving at your own wedding feast smeared.”

“And here I was thinking you a fan of all courtly whims.”

Anthony laughed and sat back in his seat. “But a husband should have the upper hand in his own home, and your pale skin is too lovely to be covered in muck. Perhaps I will forbid you from whiting your face. What do you say to that, eh?”

“Believe it or not, I would welcome it. There is no pleasure in being caked in white, I assure you.”

“Then I command it—no wife of mine shall hide her glorious skin under such a foul layer,” he said, waving his hand with a flourish.

Sebastian clutched his hand to his chest and feigned concern. “But what should I tell the other ladies of the court? They may be scandalized at your brutish ways.”

“Simply tell them I prefer it, that it makes you more amenable for ravishment.”

Sebastian laughed. “Ravishment?”

“A man can ravish his wife; there is no law against it.”

“I suspect most of our guests would be surprised that you would want to, given the plain nature of your new wife.”

Anthony took hold of Sebastian’s hand, dropping a kiss to the back of it. “Bronwyn may be plain, but Sebastian could not be described so.”

“But it is Bronwyn they see.”

“In London there is no alternative,” said Anthony, a new seriousness in his voice, “but once we are at the hall, we can come to some arrangement. I’ll simply make it known that I have insisted that Bronwyn invite her twin brother to stay, especially as she is prone to bouts of sickness that leave her bedridden for days at a time.”

“You have given this more thought than I’d have given you credit for,” said Sebastian, surprised by Anthony’s consideration.

“You are not my prisoner. I want you to be happy while you’re at Crofton Hall—and I do not believe you can be if you spend all your days in a corset.”

The coach drew to a halt. Anthony stood as the door of the carriage was opened. “We will have to continue this later. We have a feast to enjoy.”

Anthony jumped down from the coach, and then turned back to offer Sebastian his hand as assistance. Sebastian, wary of falling face first, gingerly stepped down, and was relieved not to have slipped. They’d drawn up outside a large house with a well-maintained rose garden in the front and a pathway that led away down the side to a courtyard.