Page 80 of Sir Durham’s Disarming Asset

Zeph ran her fingertips over the ruching of her bodice. Gus’s modiste had outdone herself. Yesterday the lady had come to Ashley House and brought with her two assistants who carried three bolts of fabric. The first was a cotton from Bengal, so sheer that Zeph could see the outline of her nails through the brilliant yellow. The second was another Luccan silk, this one of pale blue. The third was a Lyon silk of teal green that whispered over her hands like the sound of a breeze.

It was the last one Zeph chose for her wedding. The dressmaker and her assistants worked all through the night and this morning, and Zeph paid them double the modiste’s fee.

Now, standing before the cheval glass, she felt restored, rejuvenated. To be accurate, she felt born anew.

“Do all brides feel as if they are different people?” Her gaze met Gus’s in the mirror.

“I think,” Gus said as she handed her a bouquet of fragrant evergreens, “they do if they are in love.”

With that, they went down to the main salon.

The double doors were closed. Zeph glanced at Friendly and thanked him and all the staff for their kindness to her. She had invited all the household servants to the ceremony. Earlier, he had assured Zeph that they were assembled in the salon. “I have created challenges for all of you. Do give my regards to each of them for me, will you?”

The man tipped his head. “You were always a pleasure to serve, Miss Butler.”

She challenged him with a sly side glance, and he laughed.

Then she turned to Gus. “I am ready.”

Friendly pulled open the doors. Inside stood everyone she had come to know and trust these past months.

A tall, silver-haired man approached her and, at first, she had no idea who he was. Luc Bechard, the man who had saved her from assaults in prison, strode toward her. His hair had gone totally white. The shock, the stress, had also made him reclusive, Rafe had told her the other day. Now she saw how their imprisonment had changed him, put lines on his handsome face and shadows in his eyes.

“Luc,” she whispered as he took her hand and kissed it. “I am so delighted to see you and am honored you have come.”

“I would not miss this. To see you happy is a very fond wish of mine. Do marry that man who carried you away—he is unrivaled.”

She blinked away the tears that sprang to her eyes, then looked beyond Luc to the others. In the gay springtime pinks and ivories of Gus’s salon stood the Fourniers and the Applebys. Near them were Scarlett Hawthorne and her ever-present escort, Todd Carlton. Amber, Zeph’s old school friend, and that lady’s husband, Lord Ramsey, looked tickled. Near the front of the throng stood Halsey and Inès, who had saved her along with the man who stood at the side of the vicar.

Gus stopped as she neared her husband. Zeph took a step forward to Rafe. He looked magnificent, rested, joyful, her dashing man.

The words of the service seemed all too brief, and she hardly knew what she had said except “I do.”

The breakfast was a whirl of happy solicitations, hugs and kisses. Each person offered invitations to their Christmas events and country homes.

Luc came to wish them well once more. “Forgive me, but I must leave before you do. I suffer from a great fatigue and cannot exert myself for very long.”

“Luc,” Zeph said as she put a hand to his arm, “when we are settled after we return from our honeymoon, we hope you will come to dinner.”

“Thank you, both of you. But I have decided to give up my rooms in St. James’s. The city does not please me. I need the countryside. The air. The silence. The solitude.”

“Where will you go?” she asked. “We need to know. We will not lose you, you realize.”

“I have found a small house I like north of here. I have leased it.”

“Anything we can do to make that an easy move,” Rafe said, “you will tell us.”

“Thank you, but all of you have already. You saved my life, and from what I understand from Miss Hawthorne and her clerk, I have an income from her with all of you contributing. I am quite honored.”

“Find your serenity, sir,” Rafe told him as the two shook hands.

Zeph watched Luc go, fearing for his state of mind. “I had you,” she whispered to Rafe. “He has only himself.”

“We will watch him carefully, do not fear.” Rafe turned to her. “Enough of this. Let us say our goodbyes.”

*

Minutes later, they were off in Rafe’s traveling coach.