Dance with Deception: Scandalous Secrets, Book 1 - Exclusive Edition (Scandalous Secrets - Exclusive Edition) (23 page)

Sebastian wrapped his heavy comforter around his bare shoulders then turned on his side. His eyes remained wide open, staring into the pitch-black room. Having long lost track of time, hours passed in a murky blur while his mind worked at a feverish pace, contemplating every disaster that could possibly take place on his wedding day.

Thick fear settled in his chest. What if, out of spite, Gwen’s father revealed the pregnancy that Sebastian created, the lie he had conceived and nursed until it had grown into a full-fledged monster licking at his heels?

Lachlan was heartless, and he’d think nothing of hurting his own daughter. Perhaps the old man would disregard Sebastian’s threats and seek revenge upon him the best way he knew how – by taking Gwen away from him on their wedding day.

“Please, God,” he whispered into the silent room, “don’t allow anyone or anything to keep the ceremony from taking place. Please don’t punish Gwen for my duplicity.”

Neither the clouds darkening the sky nor her father’s acidic disposition could dampen Gwen’s spirits on her wedding day. As she leaned against the plush crimson squibs in the sleek black carriage displaying the Montgomery family crest, Gwen at last understood her destiny. She would be
Sebastian’s wife, the Duchess of Davenport.

Pride swelled in her heart as she smoothed her wedding gown. It was more beautiful than she imagined. Delicate silver flowers and leaves decorated the gauzy white chiffon of her dress and train.

Gwen stared through the window at the wooded countryside and traced the diamond and emerald necklace Sebastian had given her. The jewels matched her gown to perfection while her mahogany curls were pinned with zircon-encrusted combs atop her head to display the matching earrings he had presented to her as a wedding gift.

For the first time, she felt like Sebastian’s duchess.

From the moment she had seen his handsome face at the Stocktons’ ball, Gwen experienced an attraction toward him that could best be compared to an ocean current drawn towards the sandy shore. Fighting against it was fruitless. Such was destiny.

Gwen sighed from contentment, certain that no one could ever be as happy as she. Not today or any other day.

Tristan cleared his throat. “Gwen, I’m sorry to distract you.”

“I’m afraid I was distracted even before you cleared your throat,” she replied, turning to face him.

“I noticed,” Tristan drawled. “By the by, would you please stop smiling. You’re beaming so brightly that one might assume you are getting married today.”

Gwen arched her brow. “We wouldn’t want
that, now would we?”

“I’ve been concerned about you, you know.” Tristan’s teasing tone grew solemn. “Father has been quite cruel toward you, especially by refusing to walk you down the aisle.”

“I understand the reasons for his behavior.” Gwen’s thumb and forefinger toyed with her flawless sapphire betrothal ring. “I accept Papa’s wrath with the knowledge that refusing to marry Keir, choosing to marry Sebastian instead and following my heart were my choices. Besides, Papa is attending the service just not participating in it.”

“Thank heaven for that, if you ask me.” Her brother’s tone dripped of cynicism.

“Even if Papa never approves of my marriage to Sebastian, I pray that someday he will understand my true motive is love.”

Tristan grimaced. “I wouldn’t count on that, dearest, but I shall hope so for your sake.”

“You have always been my staunchest supporter and I am so proud that you are my brother.” Gwen’s heart swelled with unbridled affection.

Tristan leaned toward her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “We have shared everything since birth. How could I be anything but supportive?”

“I mean it, Tristan. I am blessed to have you as my brother.”

Tristan’s voice grew hoarse. “You mean the world to me, Gwen. Seeing you happy is all I’ve ever wanted.”

Gwen hugged her brother, grateful for all he had done for her throughout their lifetime, especially
following their mother’s death. “I’m almost ashamed to say this, but I am glad that Papa refused to walk me down the aisle. In truth, I wouldn’t want anyone but you to do so.”

She caught sight of a single tear tracing a path from her brother’s eye to his cheek. He pushed it aside then straightened. “You must be careful not to wrinkle your dress or Madame Lafayette will have a fit and, above all else, do not cry. We don’t want your smooth visage resembling a beet by the time we walk down the aisle.”

Her laughter rang throughout the carriage as it rolled to a stop in front of the miniature cathedral on the Morley estate. Alexander and Constance had offered to host the ceremony at their estate so the bride and groom could experience a wedding night without a house full of guests and Gwen was grateful for their offer. She handled the
ton’s
scrutiny well thus far but was pleased she wouldn’t have to do so on this night.

Tristan helped her alight as Victoria sprinted down the cathedral steps two at a time. Tristan’s eyes widened at the sight. “How on Earth did you take on those stairs in that gown?”

“That, my dear sir, is my secret.” Victoria straightened then placed her hands behind her back, the picture of a demure lady.

“My God, you are just like my sister,” Tristan muttered.

Victoria tipped her head towards him. “I shall take that as a compliment.”

“I meant it as such,” Tristan said, winking.

Victoria’s cheeks glowed a healthy pink,
matching her rose-colored gown to perfection.

Gwen smiled at her. “Tori, you look gorgeous.”

Victoria twirled then curtsied for effect. “I don’t hold a candle to you. You look like a princess in your wedding gown.”

“I’ll settle for looking like a duchess.”

“For heaven’s sake,” Tristan feigned impatience. “Are you ready to proceed or not? You are still marrying the chap, aren’t you?”

Both women answered him in unison. “Yes!”

“Now both of you have ridiculous smiles on your faces,” he teased.

“Imagine that, and so do you,” Gwen responded in kind.

Upon entering the chapel, the scent of honeysuckle comforted Gwen. As per her instructions, bouquets of her mother’s favorite flowers were joined with chiffon bows and affixed to each pew. The heavenly aroma assured Gwen that her mother was with her in spirit.

Before she proceeded down the red-carpeted aisle with her brother, Gwen paused to assimilate the beauty before her. Due to the darkness of the cloudy weather, hundreds of candles had been lit, providing a warm glow within the chapel, their reflections dancing upon the stained glass windows.

The chapel was full to capacity with well-clad nobles. The same influential members of the
ton
who Gwen had never much liked yet, in this light and much to her surprise, looked downright pleasant.

Sebastian stood at the end of the aisle. Gwen was now more certain than ever that he was the
most handsome man to have ever lived. The mere sight of him left her breathless.

With his azure eyes, thick raven hair, chiseled chin, broad shoulders, tall frame and proud smile, Sebastian exuded his usual self-confidence mixed with a devotion to her that was clear for all to see. It was as if he were born to wait at the end of this aisle for her.

She loved each and every aspect of his form and his personality. It warmed her heart to know his inner self, to be the only woman privy to his private thoughts, to be the subject of his pride. Sebastian looked at her with such open admiration that it touched her soul.

Sebastian stood beside his closest friend, Alexander, in front of the altar. Never had he witnessed such a beautiful bride. He reminded himself to breathe, slow and steady. The ceremony was merely a formality for in his heart, Gwen was already his bride.

His steady gaze remained fixed upon Gwen as she followed Victoria down the aisle, arm-in-arm with her brother. When she joined him at the altar, Sebastian winked at her.

The ceremony began and the silence within the church filled his heart with reverence. From the sight of the elegant crowd, it appeared that Sebastian’s unabashed adoration for his bride had swayed even the staunchest of skeptics.

A heavy thud reverberated throughout the chapel. Sebastian and Gwen turned in unison toward the end of the aisle to find Keir standing in front of the heavy oak doors that he had slammed
shut in obvious defiance.

His arrogant posture didn’t bode well.

Sebastian clenched his jaw, aware of every muscle in his body tensing. Was his nightmare coming true? He answered the intruder’s glare with one of contempt.

Whispers erupted from the pews, increasing in pitch. Sebastian stepped forward but his bride laid her hand on his arm, halting him from walking any further.

“He’s not worth it, Sebastian.” Gwen’s shaky voice filled with dread.

Sebastian clenched his hands into fists by his sides, nails digging into his palms from frustration. He turned his attention to his bride.

Her eyes were wide. “Your retaliation is what he desires,” she whispered.

Of course Gwen was right. Sebastian took her hand as his anger ebbed. There was no way he would mar his wedding ceremony by fighting Dunlop via fisticuffs. She was marrying him, and that was victory enough for Sebastian.

The whispers from their guests began to crescendo. Though their ceremony wasn’t ruined yet, Sebastian knew it would be if he didn’t do something.

Aware that all eyes of their guests were upon him, Sebastian decided at once that he wouldn’t let his rival win.

“Lord Dunlop, please take a seat. You are more than welcome to join us.” His voice sounded so smooth, so calm, that it shocked even himself.

Sebastian then kissed the back of Gwen’s hand
and turned his back to the intruder, guiding her into position so they could continue with the ceremony. He clasped her hand in a tight grip. It reassured him that she was still there, by his side, and that she still intended to be his bride.

He longed to embrace her and never let go.

Keir’s appearance unnerved Sebastian. His deception now hung like a noose around his neck, tightening much quicker than he expected. He knew he must confess the truth before someone else interceded, but Sebastian’s plans hadn’t changed. First, he would spend a few days making love to his wife, convincing her how much he loved her and how much he was willing to sacrifice for her.

“Please continue,” he instructed the priest, his tone smooth. Where was this control coming from? God alone knew.

After a few final whispers subsided, the guests returned to a reverent silence, their gazes occupied with the couple reciting their vows.

Tristan stalked Keir, watching as the intruder slid into the last pew. The man had decided to stay.

With purposeful strides, like a lion stalking his prey, Tristan approached the trespasser from behind, placing both hands on his shoulders before squeezing.

“If you say or do anything else to disturb

this ceremony, I will kill you right here on the spot.” His whisper was low and dangerous, meant to convey the threat he intended it to be. “It will be a slow, painful death that will leave you begging for mercy, but I assure you, mercy will not come.”

Keir glanced over his shoulder.

Tristan made no attempt to conceal his anger, certain that it contorted his features. He noted that Keir’s arrogant expression betrayed an underlying fear. His eyes darted towards Lachlan who, although not part of the bridal procession, was in attendance.

Following the direction of Keir’s gaze, Tristan assured him with a steely edge to his voice, “He won’t help you. No one will.”

He squeezed the man’s shoulders tighter. “Nod so I know you understand my meaning. You will not interfere.”

Keir nodded, swallowing hard.

“Good,” Tristan growled. “If you hurt my sister, I will kill you.”

With one last parting squeeze, Tristan released Keir then returned to his own seat, cloaked in as much silence as when he’d abandoned it mere moments before.

Keir glowered at Tristan’s back as he followed him to his seat, his confidence building with every step the bride’s brother took. He then shifted his attention to the happy couple. Sebastian held Gwen’s hand as if it were some precious gem. The sight made him want to retch.

They had destroyed all of his plans and he wanted to hurt them now more than ever. He would do so, without the bride’s tiger of a brother ever finding out.

Yes, he would accomplish his goal. Keir wasn’t his father’s son for nothing.