Athena's Ordeal (26 page)

June 1815, London

Sabre had argued that a short engagement was best and her fiancé didn’t seem inclined to argue. Thus within a few short weeks she was donning her wedding dress, trying not to succumb to butterflies. Robert had granted the use of his bedroom to the bridal party so she would have more room to prepare. Jack was helping her straighten the fabric and smooth down the skirts.

“Let me give you this while your mothers are out of the room,” her friend said, pulling a small book from her reticule. It gave Sabre pause to think that she had two mothers now. More intimidating was the fact that they seemed to like each other, leaving her with the impression that there might be cases of two against one in her future.

“What is it?”

“It’s your ‘something borrowed.’ I had to
return to Kellington to fetch it. You must promise me that you won’t leave it out where someone could take it.”

Sabre furrowed her brow and gave her friend a skeptical look. “What on earth is it?”

“Take a quick peek.”

She flipped the
miniature book open and its purpose was immediately obvious, filled with lewd illustrations. “Oh my!”

Jack waved her hands. “Now put it away before someone sees it.”

A third voice joined their conversation. “Even a fellow Haberdasher?”

Sabre turned to find George standing in the doorway. Their friend was just between their own heights, slender to the edge of gaunt, with pale skin and light hair. Sabre was so surprised to see her that she squealed louder than when she had been a child. They all rushed forward and met in the middle of the room, embracing.

Sabre could feel tears squeezing from the corners of her eyes. “Oh, George! I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me by missing my wedding!”

“Well, at least you planned one, short a timeframe as it might have been. Unlike our Jackie.”

Jack sniffed. “There were extenuating circumstances.”

George chuckled. “Yes. I see what comes of my leaving either of you alone.”

Sabre heard her mother’s voice. “Sabrina is everything-? Oh, George! You’re here at last. No wonder I heard shrieking.”

As George turned to greet Viscountess Bittlesworth and Duchess Telford, Sabre tucked the little book down in her bodice.

“Good thinking,” Jack whispered. “He’ll enjoy finding it later.”

Sabre turned incredulous eyes on her friend and said in a fierce whisper. “You are so naughty! I never would have expected it.”

Jack arched an eyebrow. “Let us remember who married Lord Lucifer.”

“Hush!” Sabrina admonished.

The ladies took to rearranging their bouquets so that George would have flowers to carry as an attendant. Sabre thought now that she had her best friends and was marrying the duke,
everything
was perfect.

Quince would have sworn that his cravat had shrunk since he dressed this morning.

“Stop pacing.”

The earl’s impatient voice pulled him up short. Both Gideon and Jeremy attended him, but currently they were seated on the wooden straight-backed chairs that lined the wall in the vestry.

“What has you worried, Quince?” the earl asked.

“I’m not worried.”

Gideon looked over at Jeremy as though for the young man’s support.

“You appear worried,” Jeremy confirmed.

“Well, weren’t you anxious at your wedding?” Quince accused the earl.

Gideon shrugged. “Of course. I hardly knew Jacqueline and you know I’m not one to back out of my commitments. Marriage, eternity with someone I didn’t know, was quite intimidating. You, however, know Sabre quite well. I assume you’re entering into this rather well informed.”

Quince knew
, oddly enough, what he really wanted was Sabre. That she would know the right thing to say to keep his anxiety from overtaking him. He wasn’t even entirely sure why he
was
so anxious.

“Perhaps today is a bad day to do this,” he heard himself saying.

The earl raised a brow. “My job is quite clear, and that is to make sure you are at the altar at the appointed hour. If I have to knock you out to do it, you know I will.”

Quince huffed out a breath.

Gideon stood and addressed Jeremy. “Make sure he stays here. I shall return.”

After Gideon left Jeremy said, “He won’t be gone long, so what is our plan?”

“What?”

“Obviously as your brother my first duty is to you, and you want to leave. I’m thinking perhaps you should don the vicar’s robes and escape out the back. If anyone tries to stop you, simply bless them and run on.”

Quince grinned. “I had no idea you had a sense of humor.”

“You doubt my seriousness?” the marquess asked with a
moderately unsettled expression.

The duke paused. Perhaps what he had interpreted as a formerly unnoticed dry wit was actually dullness. Perhaps Jeremy not only had their father’s face but more of his personality than Quince had realized as well.

Then Jeremy’s lips twitched and he was shortly reduced to helpless laughter. “You should have seen your face.”

Quince lightheartedly chucked his brother on the back of the head. “Unruly brat.”

Jeremy smoothed his hair back in place, still laughing a bit. “Like I want the earl to hunt me down and thrash me.”

The door opened again and Gideon stepped back inside with a bottle and three glasses.

Quince groaned. “Must you act like alcohol solves everything?”

“I’m pragmatic. If it didn’t work, I wouldn’t do it.”

Jeremy jumped up to hold glasses for the earl as he poured.

“Just a bit of wine,” Gideon said. “It will help to settle you.”

“Good Lord, this is the sacramental wine, isn’t it?”

“The vicar was quite happy to part with it for a generous donation.”

“You may be going to hell,” Quince said, “you know that, don’t you?”

“With a name like Lord Lucifer? One suspects. But maybe not if I drink enough sacramental wine.” Gideon winked.

“Lord Lucifer?” Jeremy asked.

“Robert likes to nickname his friends,” Gideon said. “Which reminds me,” he turned to Quince, “while I was out there I suggested to the Bittlesworth brothers that they might need to be on the lookout for a runaway groom.”

Quince scowled. “I wouldn’t jilt Sabre.”

“As I mentioned, you made it my job to ensure that is true. So I have ensured it. Take another drink.”

Quince sipped some more of the overly sweet wine. After a few minutes he had to admit that his nerves had calmed a bit.

Gideon pulled out his pocket watch. “It’s almost time, if you’re ready?”

Quince handed back the wineglass and nodded.

Gideon gave the glasses and bottle to Jeremy. “If you could find the vicar and return these? I want a word with the duke.”

The young man nodded, finishing the dregs of wine so he could more easily hold all the glasses without spilling. Once the door closed, Gideon turned to Quince and put his hands on the duke’s shoulders.

“You can do this?” the earl asked.

Quince nodded. “I just… You know social occasions make me nervous. And it’s my wedding. And what if Sabre changes her mind?”

Gideon chuckled. “Do you seriously
believe that could happen?”

“She left me before,” Quince pointed out.

“She left so that she wouldn’t throttle you for being an idiot. Trust me, she has my sympathies.” Gideon sighed. “But I will never forgive myself for not finding out what was bothering you the day of the duel, since it turned out to be blackmail by one of the darkest souls in England. What is bothering you now? Do you have cold feet or is it something more?”

“Just cold feet, I think. But this means that you’ll be even more intrusive than usual, doesn’t it?”

“Perhaps a bit, although I trust Sabre to keep an eye on you.” Gideon’s expression became grave. “And trying to help you only repays you in some small way for all the times you fished me out of the gutter so that I could wake up in my own bed.”

“What are friends for?” Quince asked.

“Indeed. To the altar, then?”

Quince nodded. “I’m ready.”

Jack was able to enjoy Sabre’s wedding in a way she hadn’t her own. Her friends had chosen a small church outside London and the guest list had been held to less than a hundred. Leagues more attendees than her own wedding, but small for a typical ducal affair. When Sabre entered, beautiful in the white and celestial blue
gown she had chosen, Jack had glanced at Quince. The love shining on both of their faces was clear to see.

The entire affair was lovely and Sabre had been surprisingly quiet and sweet. Jack honestly hadn’t known her friend had it in her. But it was clear that Quince brought out a tender and loving side that no one else ever had before. That could only be to the good, Jack thought.

Time flew as vows were exchanged and then the exuberant chords of the recessional filled the nave. Once they were in the vestibule, Jack heard a gasp and bump behind her. Turning, she saw George on the ground, petals and flowers scattered around her, her arm clutched to her stomach. Jack dropped her own bouquet and crouched by her friend.

“Georgie? What’s wrong?”

George had grown alarmingly pale. “I think I’m going to faint. Get Robert.”

Jack looked up at Sabre and the other Haberdasher shook her head in confusion.

Gideon knelt to pick up George. She gasped and held her ribs more tightly. At the change in angle Jack could see blood between George’s fingers.

Jack turned to the wedding couple. “Why don’t you two head to the wedding breakfast and we’ll take care of George.”

Sabre stepped forward, “But...”

Jack waved her off. “Don’t be silly. It’s probably just some sort of cramps. We’ll join you when George is feeling better.” Jack turned to Quince’s brother. “Jeremy, why don’t you make sure that the happy couple is settled at the breakfast while we let George rest for a minute?”

Sabre frowned but Jeremy nodded and did a credible job herding the Telfords out the door to the waiting coach. The door to the nave opened again and guests began pouring out. Gideon backed into an alcove of the vestibule, still holding George in his arms. George grabbed Jack’s hand in a shockingly firm grasp.

“Get Robert,” her friend commanded. “I need to talk to him. Now.”

Jack looked up at her husband. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

She threaded her way through the attendees, politely shaking off those who wanted to express their happiness for the couple. She spied the Bittlesworth brothers standing against one of the walls of the nave, laughing amongst themselves. Not just Robert and Charlie, but Justin as well.

“Robert,” she said, pushing her way past the guests who had been leaving. He looked over to her, his expression becoming concerned.

“What’s wrong, Jack?”

“It’s George. She’s hurt and calling for you.”

He tensed
immediately. “Where is she?”

“Gideon has her out in the vestibule. We need to find somewhere for her to lie down. She’s…”

“She’s what?”

“She’s bleeding and I don’t know why.”

Robert made a beeline for the doors, slipping through the jostling crowd. Jack and the other Bittlesworth brothers followed in his wake. He located Gideon in the alcove and moved George’s hands to inspect her side.

“What have you done, sweeting?” he asked. “I see blood but this fabric isn’t rent. When did you get this wound?”

“This morning,” George said, sounding frustrated. “I thought it was bound properly, but…” She waved her hand at the offending blood.

“I’ll take her,” Robert said to Gideon. Jack saw her husband look at to her with a raised eyebrow and had to nod. If George wanted Robert then she didn’t have any
compelling reason to say no. Gideon gently transferred George’s weight into Robert’s arms.

“Charlie,” Robert said. “Get my carriage. You two,” he said, addressing the Harringtons, “and Justin should go to the breakfast and keep Quince and Sabre from
noticing so many of us absent.” He looked down on George, his expression softening a bit. “She’ll be fine. She’s tougher than she looks.”

It was difficult to leave George in Robert’s care, but Jack let Gideon and Justin lead her out to the waiting carriages.

Sabre hugged Jack as soon as she saw her. “Where’s George?”

“She resting.”

“I’ve saved places at the table for each of you. Justin!” She hugged her little half-brother. Sabre thought that if she were any more full of good cheer that she might explode from it. She even hugged Gideon. “Quince is over there talking to some lords. I’m sure he would appreciate it if you saved him.”

Gideon bowed to her. “Yes, your grace.”

Sabre giggled and wrapped her arm around Jack’s. “I find that I like your husband better and better.”