Authors: Kathryn Caskie
Could she be dreaming? She blinked her eyes, then a small giggle s
li
pped through her lips.
"Jenny," came Callu
m
's deep voice from just behind her and she quivered within as she gradually turned about to face him.
Reluctant to see the sadness in his eyes, she slowly lifted her gaze to meet his. But instead of the pain she expected, she saw hope.
He brought a single white rose from behind his back and lifted it to her. She took it, as emotion welled up in her breast.
The thin skin around Callum's dark eyes crinkled as
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he smiled down at her. "Jenny, I have been a thickheaded fool. Can ye ever fergive me?"
What was this? He was asking for
her
forgiveness?
"I do not understand," she confessed. "I am the one who must beg absolution. I deliberately led you to believe I was a lady ... when I was only
a
—"
But he pulled her to him gently and hushed her by moving his lips over hers. She felt his fingers in her hair as he kissed her, and she shivered with pleasure.
He lifted his mouth from her lips and looked deep into her eyes for several seconds without saying a word. Then, he raised the ruby betrothal ring before her, just as he had done in the study once before.
"Jenny, to me ye
are
a lady. If ye do me the great honor of accepting my troth once more, and tell me ye'll be my wife, ye'll be
my lady
.
"
Tears seeped into her eyes and thickened the wall of her throat. "But can you ever forgive me?" she sputtered.
"There is nothin' to fergive, lass. My grandmother told me how it all came to b
e
—"
"But even when I could have confessed, I didn't." Her wet cheeks grew chilled in the cold air and he cupped them in his hands, warming them.
"Why, lass?" he asked her.
She looked quizzically up at him ... for he was still smiling. "Because I loved you and I didn't want to lose you."
"Aye. Not to hurt me. Ye did it because ye loved me. And fer that reason, there is nothin' to fergive. Ye only wanted to love me and be loved by me a while longer "
"Yes," Jenny said softly.
"So take my ring, lass, and tell me ye'll be my wife.
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And we'll both have that love forever." Callu
m
knelt on one knee.
Jenny peeled off her white kid glove and held up her hand to Callum.
He took her hand and slowly slid the ring over the knuckle of her third finger. When the ring reached the base of her
f
inger, he looked into her eyes. 'Tell me, Jenny. Tell me what I want to hear. What I
need
to hear."
Jenny smiled and laughed through her ridiculous tears. "I love you, Callum. Nothing in this world would make me happier than becoming your wife."
Callum came to his feet and nodded, and from the corner of her eye, Jenny saw Winston, who appeared as if from nowhere, begin to fill the two crystal goblets with wine.
Then, Callum swept her into his arms, and as he pressed his lips to hers, a small sigh slipped from her mouth.
Above them, the ice-slicked branches swayed in the winter breeze, clapping together, as if applauding.
Jenny opened one eye and looked upward at the heavens.
Annie was never, ever, going to believe this.
Chapter Twenty
I
t was the most perfect of perfect days.
Bells were ringing, and the sun shone brightly through the massive windows of Bath Abbey, warming Jenny's cheeks as Mr. Edgar escorted her up the long aisle to stand before the altar with her beloved Callu
m
.
Jenny sighed with happiness.
It was actually happening.
She and Callum Campbell, the Sixth Viscount Argyll, were to be married on none other than Saint Valentine's Day.
Everyone said that a wedding held on such an auspicious date was a good omen. For Saint Valentine's Day, according to the all-knowing Lady Letitia, was the singular day of the year that birds of like feather chose their lifetime mate.
As Jenny approached Callum at the altar, she was quite overwhelmed by the sight of silk festoons
i
n muted Featherton purple and hundreds of ribbon-bound lavender stalks that seemed to fill the abbey.
It was a
l
avender-hued dream, not quite the color Jenny would have chosen, of cours
e
—
a
fashionable
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blush would have been more the thin
g
—
b
ut nevertheless, it was a dream come true.
Standing nearest the altar was her mother, her face aglow with happiness; Miss Meredith, who seemed still to be taking copious notes, and the Featherton ladies, who stood waiting with wide expectant grins.
The church also held a dozen of Jenny's friends, service staff all, who'd somehow been clever enough to beg the day off. But most surprising to Jenny was the attendance of Bath's elevated society, highborn ladies and gentlemen, who, Jenny reckoned, had accepted the Featherton sisters' invitations merely to see if the viscount was truly marrying the scandalous Miss Jenny Penny, Lady Eros.
Jenny only smiled at this thought. Because, indeed, he
was
marrying her.
Still it hardly seemed real. Hardly seemed possible. Yet, here she stood, her hair simply arranged yet wreathed in brilliants, artfully shaped into sparkling rosebuds.
Jenny concentrated hard to focus only on Callu
m
, even as her wedding gown all but called for her attention. Its design was by her own hand, and even if she did say so herself, it was certainly the most beautiful creation ever conceived.
Her gown was an overdress of silver lama on net, worn atop a silver tissue slip drenched with embroidered shells and flowers. The bodice and sleeves echoed the embroidery at the hem, but was set apart with a breath of elegant Brussels lace.
The manteau was of silver tissue lined with shimmering white satin. It was trimmed with a border of embroidery to answer the handiwork on the dress, and was
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perfectly fastened in front with the opal brooch her father had given her so many years ago.
She felt every bit the princes
s
—
t
he lady,
and for certain she would be by hour's end, as unbelievable as it all seemed. For as she clasped Callum's strong hand
s
— those of the man she truly love
d
—
h
e swore before God and England to love and cherish her all the days of his life.
She peered down at her hand as Callu
m
pushed a band of gold onto her third finger, until it abutted the ruby and diamond betrothal ring.
A tear trickled down her cheek. But Jenny didn't care. This was the happiest moment of her entire life.
Her most precious dream had just come true.
She and Callum, the man she loved with all her heart, were married.
******************
Late that afternoon, after the Saint Valentine's Day wedding breakfast and festivities at the Upper Assembly Rooms had concluded, Jenny returned to Royal Crescent to pack the rest of her clothing and her abundance of accessories for transport to Laura Place.
"Oh, do not cry, Mama. It is not as though I am leaving Bath to move to Scotland."
"Not yet, anyway." Her mother made no attempt to silence her tearful sniffs as she slipped three pairs of gloves inside Jenny's bear muff and placed it in the open portmanteau. "Argyll will not wish to stay
i
n dreary Bath forever."
"Well, we shan't be going anywhere until after the baby is born." Jenny gave her head a confident n
od.
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Her mother's eyes brightened at the mention. "So you've told him? What did he say?"
Jenny bit her bottom lip and diverted her eyes from her mother. "Well, I haven't exactly told him ... but I will. Tonight in fact."
"Oh, Jenny! How could you have waited so long?"
Jenny exhaled as she pinned her opal brooch between her breasts for safekeeping, then closed her new leather traveling jewel case and placed it inside the portmanteau beside the bear muff. "What with all the excitement of the wedding, I completely forgot." She glanced sidelong at her mother to see her reaction.
"You ..
.
forgot?
Jenny, do not mistake with whom you're speaking. I
know
you." Her mother took Jenny's hands and led her to the bed, where they sat down together. "Darling, he loves you. He will not be cross with you. But you must tell him."
"I shall." Jenny quieted until her mother's forceful glare set her tongue in motion again. "I shall tell him
this eve
.
"
The servants
'
bell sounded and both women looked
u
p.
"You're wanted above stairs," her mother said. "Argyll must be here with the town carriage."
Jenny rose and closed the portmanteau.
"Go to him now, dear. I'll send George with your belongings." Her mother pecked her cheeks and drew back with a smile. "There you go. Off with you now."
Jenny dashed up the stairs and into the passage ready to greet her new husband. But instead, her eyes met with those of Hercule Lestrange.
She smiled broadly. "Hercule! There you are. How
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good of you to come. Though I had expected to see you at my wedding breakfast."
The little man removed his glossy beaver hat and settled it on the table in the passageway. "I had an investigation to complet
e
... Jenny," he said hesitantly. "I have someone with me who I would very much like for you to meet."
Jenny tilted her head, wondering what Mr. Lestrange was up to. "Very wel
l
... but I shall be leaving for Laura Place soon."
Hercule's brows lifted high over the bridge of his nose. "Ah, but this person is already waiting in the drawing room with the Featherton ladies." He offered up his arm to her. "Shall we?"
A dreadful blend of confusion a
n
d anticipation built inside of Jenny, but still she placed her hand over Hercule's arm and walked with him into the drawing room.
As they entered, Jenny could see Meredith and her two aunts sitting on the settee all but staring at the gentleman who sat with his back to he
r
. Upon hearing their arrival, the gentleman rose and turned to face her.
He was a handsome man, ta
l
l a
n
d dark-haired with slashes of gray at his temples. His nose turned up slightly at the tip, not unlike her own, and his green eyes seemed to dance as he smiled down at her.
But it was his clothes that caused Jenny to marvel. He was dressed impeccably in the height of Paris fashion. The lines were clean, and
the
fabric was nothing less than the finest quality.
His valet must truly be a wonder, for no man could dress so well without extensive study of current modish fashion.
The Featherton sisters rose as well, and as Lady Le
t
i-
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tia pulled Meredith to her feet, Lady Viola stepped forward.
"Lady Argyll," she began, gesturing to Jenny.
Golly. Lady Argyll.
For some reason, hearing herself referred to as such sent a giggle into Jenny's middle and she had to fight to prevent it from leaping from her mouth into their guest's face.
"May I present Lord Trevor of A
m
hurst."
The gentleman smiled again, and honored her with a truly gallant bow.
Jenny stared at him. My word, he looked familiar somehow. Still, she couldn't quite place him.
Lady Viola, likely having spotted the puzzlement in Jenny's eyes, stepped beside her. "Dear, Lord Trevor is an old family friend. He was otherwise engaged, and there
f
ore unable to attend your wedding festivities."
Lord Trevor spoke then, his voice as smooth and silken as his ivory waistcoat. "I do regret not bearing witness to the event, but 'tis my fondest wish to offer you a gift to celebrate your union with Lord Argyll."
Jenny watched with excitement as he withdrew a small leather box from his coat and held it out to her.
Her brows lifted as she looked at it. Everyone knew that the absolute best gifts came in tiny packages like the one in his hand. Her heart began to pound.