Page 100 of Tempting the Marquess

“I thought I was losing my mind, wanting to stay close to that wicked old reprobate. Then I swooned at Aunt Jane’s ball and felt his remarkably sturdy arm. And finally, the way he mysteriously vanished right when you returned…really, William. I certainly hope there will be no wardrobe modifications and stage makeup in our future.”

“None. I swear,” said William, his cheekbones highlighted with a dull flush. “I’m so sorry aboutthat.”

“So many lies. But I understand why. And…I think I might always have a soft spot for David Underwood. The false one, anyway. His naughtiness amused me noend.”

“Is that right, Sam darling?”

“Wipe that leer from your face, my lord. You’re injured…think of the apple tarts…oh, very well. Perhaps we could manage…”

And theydid.

* * *

At nearly threehundred years old, the Standish Castle chapel stood as an architectural testament to Tudor glory, with mahogany wood paneling, exquisite damask hangings detailing biblical scenes, and antique carved pews. The far end of the building even boasted an enormous, priceless stained glass window of the angel Gabriel visitingMary.

And yet nothing in the world was as beautiful as the sapphire-gowned angel walking down the aisle toward him on Stephen’s arm. His foster brother had taken on the mantle of guardian to Samantha after Claremont’s death, and had given his instant approval for a wedding—well, after a few threats of extreme bodily harm if William cocked anything up. Not that that was even slightly likely. He was too happy.

“Was that a sniffle?” Alexander hissed beside him. “Buck up, man. No bride wants to see a groom with dewyeyes.”

“I don’t bloody well have dewy eyes,” William lied. “Just a little dust. Or maybe I’m lightheaded from my wounds. You’ll be pleased to know it is your duty to catch me should I start tofall.”

“Catch you? I think not. One of the ladies might have some hartshorn, though. I can ask the congregation right now, if youlike.”

About to reply something highly unsuitable for chapel, William stopped when Stephen and Samantha made it to the altar, and his foster brother transferred her hand tohis.

Turning to Samantha was an absolute pleasure, and he rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles. She beamed back up at him, and that damned dust returned to his eyes. Although, to be fair, there were plenty of people in the congregation with a similar affliction. Several members of the royal family and senior peers sat in the front pew, nodding with approval. Aunt Jane and Caroline sat behind them along with George and Louisa. They all looked delighted, unlike Thomas, who was rather ill at ease and kept glancing at the ceiling, as though expecting to be hit by a lightning bolt for actually stepping inside a chapel. The only London Lord who wasn’t here was Robert. Alexander had passed on his brother’s regrets due to his injuries, but his friend was so curt, it made him wince. It seemed that the usual friction between the brothers had returned in full measure, and then some. Further back and to the side in a Bath chair was Eva Claremont. The rest of the pews were filled with his household staff and nearby residents who had all been permitted to attend if they wished.

Samantha shivered slightly, and he frowned in concern. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “The royals are making me nervous.”

“Don’t be. You look beautiful, even your hair is behaving…” He broke off, as if to spite him, two of the pins holding her undisciplined curls in place conceded defeat and slid slowly down the side of herhead.

Her gaze narrowed. “Your fault.”

William bit his lip to stop from laughing. The bishop cleared his throat in warning, and opened his bible.

“Dearly beloved, we join together on this joyous day to celebrate the marriage of William David Richard Hastings, Marquess of Standish, and Lady Samantha Charlotte Buchanan...”

The ceremony flew by. Before he knew it he was strolling back down the aisle, his new wife on his arm, and a grin so wide that no one would ever let him forget.

Hours later, after they’d about talked themselves hoarse with a line of well-wishers that seemed to stretch for miles, consumed enough champagne to launch a ship, and eaten their weight in wedding feast, he led Samantha to their chamber so they could change for the small, intimate supper they were going to have with close family and friends.

As they passed a set of rooms, Samantha came to an abrupt halt, stepped back, and peered inside. “What on earth is going on in there?”

William hesitated, embarrassed. “I ordered a complete refurbishment of the nursery. Do you want tosee?”

Eyes wide, she followed him inside. Half a dozen men were busily measuring, sawing, and painting. He wanted the rooms to be ready as soon as possible, despite the fact that the baby wouldn’t arrive for many months. Some might call him irrational, he called it being prepared.

“Excuse me, Lord Standish, where would you like these to go?” asked a footman, nearly staggering under the weight of the items he carried.

“Everything needs to stay in one corner until the repainting is finished, so put the cradle over there and the baby clothes into those three chests in the side room. Then you and the others may go and join the kitchen staff for ale and pasties.”

“Yes, my lord. Thank you. Oh, and congratulations, my lady!” the young man said. In seconds the place had emptied.

Hands on hips, William surveyed the large area. It was easy to imagine the bright, sunny room alive with children laughing and playing. He’d certainly encourage that, for as long as possible. Life might burden them with obligations and expectations, but his sons and daughters would be safe, with two parents who loved them verymuch.

A gentle arm slid through his. “You’re looking very serious all of a sudden, husband,” Samantha said softly.