Then Comes Seduction

He had not done so on either occasion.

It had been too late by then.

He wondered suddenly-as he had stopped doing years and years ago-how different life might have been if his father had not tried jumping that particular hedge that day but had ridden up to the gate as any sane man would have done. Pointless wonderings, of course. His father had jumped. And died.

He felt an unfamiliar constriction in his throat and snapped to attention. Good Lord, if he was not careful, he was going to find himself weeping for his lost childhood on his wedding day. Now that would give the gossips something to talk about.

If he was not mistaken, the bride was late. A fine thing it would be if she failed to turn up.

A spectacular catastrophe.

Jasper, who had made it his business until one month ago never to worry about anything, felt a knot of sudden anxiety in the pit of his stomach and wished he had not eaten any breakfast. But wait a minute. He had not eaten breakfast, had he? He wished he had, then.

But even as he wished it and even as he wished his valet had not throttled him with the knot in his neckcloth this morning, Con looked back over his shoulder and nudged Jasper’s elbow, and they both stood. There was a stir at the back of the church, and the whole congregation-dash it all, it was large!-was looking back to catch a first glimpse of the bride.

The clergyman was taking his place at the front.

She had come and he was dry-eyed and all was well.

Jasper inhaled slowly and forgot to exhale when he caught sight of Katherine. Good God, she was beautiful. It was no startlingly new revelation, of course. He had thought it on his very first sight of her more than three years ago. He had thought it every time he had set eyes on her since then.

But today she was his bride. Soon she would be his wife. His baroness, by Jove.

And today she was… well, she was beautiful.

Dash it all, why was the English language so inadequate to one’s needs on occasions like this?

He was glad he had worn a dark blue coat with pale gray breeches and white linen rather than the black and white that were more fashionable. Black had seemed just too funereal for the occasion. Now they would match each other.

Would they?

Match, that was?

He had promised her he would make her happy, had he not? Or had he only said that he would try not to make her miserable?

There was, he supposed, a difference.

But dash it all, this large congregation, most of which had put in an appearance only out of morbid curiosity, would not go away thinking him unhappy. Or her either, if he had any say in the matter.

As she approached on Merton’s arm, he fixed his eyes on her. He remembered to open them wide and drank in the sight of her. And he smiled slowly at her.

She was looking at him too through the fine veil that fell from the brim of her bo

And then, while everyone in the front seven or eight pews could still see her face, she smiled back at him, and it seemed that she must have brought the sunshine in with her from outside. But was it not cloudy out there?

They smiled at each other-a bride and groom anticipating the advent of happily-ever-after in just a few minutes’ time. It was a grand charade that they played.

An accelerated heartbeat was not necessary for a charade, though, was it? No one could see it.

His heart thumped out a merry tattoo in his chest anyway.

Good Lord, she was his bride.

He was about to be married. Forever and ever, amen. They turned together to face the clergyman.

“Dearly beloved,” he began.

She must have washed her hair recently. He could smell that soap smell that had always been more enticing to him than any perfume.

He could feel her body heat though they did not yet touch.

He felt a sudden and unwelcome wave of remorse. This ought to be the happiest day of her life. Devil take it, it ought to be. But only the happiest so far. There should be happiness abounding in her future.

The clergyman had said something and Merton was holding out her hand. Giving her away when he really ought to be clasping that hand tightly and whisking her off somewhere far away where she would be safe-from him. And happy-without him.

Jasper took her hand in his own.

And her very life into his safekeeping.

For the rest of both their lives.

It was a far more profound moment than anything he could have anticipated.

Devil take it!

“And what God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.”

It was done, then. Already. So soon. There was no going back now.

They were married.

Strangely, though Katherine had been concentrating hard on the words of the nuptial service, making it all very real to herself, as she must, part of her mind had drifted back to that evening at Vauxhall.

She remembered the pull of forbidden attraction she had felt toward him then. And how their eyes had met and held while he was talking with Lady Beaton. And how her heart had turned over. She remembered the leap of excitement she had felt when he offered his arm later, during their walk, and the thrill she had felt when he spoke to her in a ma

Finally she knew the cost. She was paying it.

Even though she had tumbled right back out of love with him on that same long-ago evening.

Except that some of her fascination with him had lingered on into this year, and she had given in to it and so sealed her doom.

Even today…

Even now…

She turned her head and found him smiling at her as he led her forward to the communion rail.

Ah, even now she found him more attractive than any other man she had ever known. And handsome too, of course. He looked plain… gorgeous in his wedding clothes. And he was her husband.

She should be the happiest woman in the world.

She remembered all the people sitting in the pews behind them-looking at them. Including her family. Whom she loved. Who loved her.

She smiled back at him.

Not long after, it seemed, the communion service was over, the register had been signed, and they were on their way out of the church, her arm drawn through his, the organ playing a triumphant anthem, everyone nodding and smiling-or simply looking. And she smiled and smiled. So did he.

As they reached the outer doors and stepped out through them, Katherine became aware that the church bells were pealing joyfully and that a crowd of the curious had gathered about the open barouche that awaited them on the square. Someone set up a halfhearted cheer, and other voices joined it.

Despite herself she felt a welling of… something. Not joy exactly. But something. Some sense of completion. Perhaps relief that it was finally done and there could be no further temptation to call everything off and run away.

Lord Montford hurried her in the direction of the carriage and handed her inside before joining her there and giving the coachman the signal to start just as the congregation began to spill out through the church doors.

The crowd parted to let the horses and barouche through.

It had been a cloudy morning. It had looked as if it might rain at any minute. But at some time while they were inside the church, the clouds had moved off and the sun was beaming down on them from a clear blue sky. The air was warm without being oppressively hot.