The Romany Heiress (23 page)

To her surprise, Cate did find the ability to rest before her bath and eat a little from the tray brought up to
her. By the time the maid returned to help her into the gown, she felt like a bride. All of her attention was focused on the impending ceremony, of seeing her husband standing at the front of the church, of saying vows
and meaning them. She was scared and excited all at
once, all thoughts of how this moment had come to pass
were driven from her mind at least temporarily.

Downstairs an open carriage waited to transport her
to the chapel. The rain had stopped at midday and the
dark sky twinkled overhead with stars. Lanterns posted
on the carriage front lit the path for the short journey.
Isabella and Cecile rode with her, and Alain rode beside
them. Tristan waited at the chapel with Giles. There was
a hubbub as they neared the church, and Cate realized
suddenly that there would be guests. She had assumed
the ceremony would be attended simply by Giles and his
friends.

“Where did all these people come from?” Cate whispered to Isabella.

“From the village,” Isabella said, confused at the
question. “Did you think there wouldn’t be any guests
to see their earl married?”

“Actually, no,” she admitted honestly.

Alain rode on ahead to announce the bride was arriving and the last of the guests made their way inside.
From outdoors Cate could see the tapers shining in
through the windows and it struck her anew that this
was her wedding.

“We’ll see you inside.” Isabella and Cecile squeezed
her hand and took up their places. Alain came to help
her down from the carriage and keep her out of the mud.

Inside, Cate had to pause a moment to keep herself
from crying. The chapel was full, the candles cast a romantic glow on the walls and, best of all, Giles waited
for her at the end of the aisle, standing straight, and immaculate in black evening attire, his hair gleaming
golden in the candlelight, her own handsome prince.
This was a moment for fairy tales. Then Cecile stood
up and began to play softly on her violin.

The aisle seemed longer now that she had to walk it
with everyone looking on. She was glad for the reassuring pressure of Giles’s hand on hers when she arrived at
the front, happy to have gotten there without tripping.

Later she would not remember much of the actual
ceremony just images of candles and stained glass,
the scent of roses, the sound of Cecile’s music, and the
blurred background voice of the clergyman intoning
the words that would bind her to this man that she knew
well and yet not well at all. But the one thing that remained always clear to her was the moment Giles
sealed their union with his kiss and led her back down
the aisle as his wife and into her new life.

Giles rushed Cate down the aisle in a half run through
a gauntlet of well wishers raining them with fragrant
rose petals. The weather and the lateness of the ceremony would not allow for the guests to shower the wedded couple out of doors, so it had been arranged to
follow the customary tradition indoors.

Cate suspected Cecile and Isabella had plotted it without Giles’s knowledge. Everyone was laughing and in
high spirits as she and Giles passed down the aisle. Even
Giles seemed exuberant. He’d been serious when he’d
spoken his vows but now he squeezed her hand affectionately and paused in the archway of the church to look
back over the guests, an extraordinary smile wreathing
his face.

Giles swung her into his arms, causing her to stifle a little shriek of surprise and treated the villagers to the
sight of a dramatic kiss. They cheered loudly and he
reached for a leather bag that had been left at the back
of the church on a small table. Opening its drawstring
neck, he drew out a handful of coins and tossed them
high into the air, another custom that had to be followed
when the lord of the manor married.

Everyone made a show of madly scrambling for the
coins. Alain took over after that, flinging the remaining
handfuls while they made a quick get-away to the waiting carriage. Giles swept Cate up and saw her tucked
safely inside before climbing in beside her.

He stared at her intensely as the carriage started the
short drive to the abbey. “How are you, Mrs. Moncrief?
Or do you prefer Lady Spelthorne?” He teased in high
humor.

“I am fine, more than fine,” Cate confessed, knowing
that tears glimmered in her eyes. “I can’t believe that
was my wedding. It was so beautiful. I never imagined . . ” She was at a loss for words. “Everyone did so
much for me and they don’t even know me”

“The night’s not over yet. Wait until you see what’s
at the abbey” Giles’s eyes twinkled in anticipation.

Cate heard music as soon as the carriage turned into
the drive. Not orchestra music or the refined music that
had played at Giles’s house party ball, but to her mind,
“real” music. Music with fiddles, drums, and tambourines. The music of the countryside.

A bonfire burned large and bright in the courtyard, warming the cold night. The doors of the house were
thrown open. Cate saw immediately what Giles had
planned.

“A real All Souls night!” She clapped her hands in
delight.

Already, villagers who had stayed behind to make
everything ready were dancing to a polka. Giles jumped
down from the carriage and helped her out.

Cate beamed, letting Giles sweep her into the
dancers.

The night was filled with dancing and drink and food
on groaning trestle tables set up out of doors. The fire
and the dancing kept everyone warm although there
was access to the house for those who could not stomach the cold night. Cate was exhilarated and giddy with
the excitement of the party. It was the perfect way to
celebrate the wedding among the Spelthorne peoplesa tribute to old England as it was in the days of the first
earl, James Moncrief.

Eventually, it was time to end it, at least their participation in it. Giles offered one last toast to his bride
and made a great show of lifting her in his arms and
carrying her across the threshold of the abbey. The
crowd roared its approval. They would stay outside and
continue their merrymaking as long as they wished.

Tristan, Alain, and their wives followed them in. Giles
set her down gently and gave her a light kiss. “You’ve
made me a happy man tonight, Cate. I’ll take one last
drink with Tristan and Alain, and then I shall come to you” He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles in a
gallant gesture that made her tremble in anticipation.

Isabella and Cecile came upstairs with her and played
at maids, helping her out of the lovely gown and setting
it safely aside to be stored away for another generation.
To their credit, they didn’t stay long and were well gone
before Giles made his appearance.

Cate liked Giles’s friends well enough, considering
the circumstances surrounding their befriendment of
her, but she wanted these next few moments to be between she and Giles alone. Ever since she’d appeared at
Spelthorne and laid her claims at Giles’s doorstep, the
two of them had been surrounded by people. First, the
house party guests and then the constant presence of
his four close friends. Now, it was time just for them.

Giles opened the bedroom door. “Are we alone?” he
asked, unknowingly echoing her sentiments.

She smiled as he pulled at his cravat, unraveling the
complicated knots he liked to wear. “Absolutely, completely and utterly alone”

The grin on his face was part rake and part happy
bridegroom. “Finally, I shall have you to myself at last”

She went to him and pulled him close. “The future
starts now-our future, Giles Moncrief.”

“Indeed, it does” Giles cupped the back of her head
in his hand and bent to claim a deep kiss, smiling as he
did so. Cate gave herself over to it.

She would not wonder until much later how simply
won her happiness and Giles’s had been once they’d decided to wed. In the five days since the afternoon of
Giles’s proposal, obstacles had vanished and talk over
her legitimacy had ceased. Life had gotten smoother. If
she hadn’t been so enthralled with her new husband’s
passionate attentions, she would have recognized sooner
that it had all been too easy.

Marriage agreed with him, most definitely, Giles decided over the next few days. He looked up from the
papers he was reading on his desk three days later to savor Cate’s presence feet away from him on the settee.

They were enjoying the quiet of a deserted Spelthorne
Abbey. Tristan and Alain had discreetly packed themselves and their families off to their homes for the holidays, leaving the newlyweds on their own-something
Giles was exceedingly grateful for. He wanted to thoroughly bask in the serenity that currently claimed his life.

Giles was fully aware that Cate was the source of the
contentment that surrounded him these last days. His
mind was no longer whirring with a thousand plans and
a hundred worries. Spelthorne was safe. The claims
against him and his legitimacy had been thoroughly
scotched with the marriage.

He had done his duty for Spelthorne, although in a
most unconventional way. Most gentlemen he knew did
their titular duties by marrying a wife of fine pedigree.
He’d done his duty by doing the opposite. He had Cate
to thank for that.

Cate looked up from the book she was reading and
caught him staring. “What are you thinking?”

Giles laughed at having been caught. “I am thinking
how beautiful my wife is and how much more lovely
she’ll be when she has clothes of her own. We can’t
have you wearing Bella’s gowns forever.” He’d won
Spelthorne and in exchange, she’d won a new life-a life
he’d gladly lead her into. It would be his first gift to her.
His lovely new bride would need an entire wardrobe. He
could help her see to an appropriate country wardrobe
here at Spelthorne well enough but they’d need to go up
to London and do her town wardrobe there.

Time enough for that after the Christmas holidays.
Strangely enough, he had no desire to go haring up to
town for the Michelmas session of parliament. The
House of Lords would have to do without him this year
for the first time since he’d assumed the title. The thought
of a country Christmas at Spelthorne with Cate made
him grin up at the ceiling. He was looking forward to
sharing all the traditions with her. This year, there would
be a very personal meaning for him of peace on earth.

“I have news” Lady FoxHaughton’s latest protege
said casually, leaning his wellpolished boots against
the fender of her fireplace.

She threw a pointed glance at the ill-placed boots
and he hastily removed them. The man was handsome
enough with his broad shoulders and Norse good looks
but breeding was lacking. That’s what happened when
one had to settle for a third son of an earl out of Sussex.

Splitting with Giles had left a sour taste in her
mouth after she’d returned to London in the fall. In hindsight, she supposed she’d been too quick to pick a
new apprentice.

She scoffed. Apprentice was not a word she’d ever
have chosen to use to describe Giles, but the word definitely fit the young Norse god lounging in her parlor. At
least this man could be taught, and he wasn’t astute
enough to have his own views. When she wanted his
opinion, she gave it to him.

“You said you had news?” she prompted.

“Yes. Spelthorne won’t be coming up to town for the
Michelmas session.”

“Not coming?” Candice hid her surprise. Such an action wasn’t like Giles at all. He was always so overly
responsible. Not even her vaunted skills could pry him
away from parliament when he had an issue on the
floor for discussion.

“Indeed. Rumor has it he has married and is spending Christmas in the country as a winter honeymoon of
sorts with his new bride.” He delivered the last bit with
a smug cockiness, knowing that for once he knew
something she didn’t.

“Wipe that look off your face. I would have heard it
tonight,” Candice rallied. “If you really know something, you know her name.”

“Jealous are we?” he asked, piqued at her set down.
“Wishing you had Spelthorne back?”

Candice snapped her fingers. “If I wanted Spelthorne
back, I’d have him. He wasn’t as promising as I’d
hoped” She gave him a meaningful look to say that the
same thing could happen to him. Then she sat down and picked up a newspaper, ignoring him entirely. It wouldn’t
do to look too eager for the name of Giles’s bride.

She let Daniel fidget uncomfortably for a few minutes, knowing the hothead wouldn’t be able to contain
himself.

She covertly looked at the clock. Within five minutes
she’d have the name if he knew it.

On cue, Daniel stood up and began pacing. “Don’t
you want to know?”

“Know what, dear?” she said sweetly, as if their spat
hadn’t happened.

“Her name?”

“Only if you know it. I was under the impression you
didn’t know it.”

“Of course I know it! I didn’t leave the club until I
had all the information available. What do you take me
for? Spelthorne has married his fourth cousin, Cate
Winthrop” He gave a derisive snort. “I would have
thought a man like Spelthorne could have done better
than marrying some poor distant relation none of us
have heard of. Poor sot”