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“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I wanted to.”

Kitty said nothing for a long moment, only reached over and took her hand, squeezing it three times the way she’d done since they were twelve years old and trading secrets on this same bench.

“Well,” she said, “there’s no breaking an agreement without a scandal that would finish you both, so I suppose the only thing left to decide is whether you mean to go to your wedding dreading it or curious.” She squeezed Laura’s hand again. “From where I’m sitting, it sounds as though you’ve already decided on the latter.”

Laura didn’t answer. She only turned her face back toward the water and let the strange, unfamiliar warmth settle in her chest a while longer.

CHAPTER 5

“Uncle!” Iris ran to the altar rail, skirts flying, and skidded to a halt beside him. “Are you terribly nervous?”

“No,” Nathaniel said, straightening his cravat.

“You look nervous. Your jaw is doing the thing it always does when you are nervous.”

“What thing is that?”

“The thing where it goes like this.” She demonstrated, screwing her small face into a scowl so severe that it startled a laugh out of Everett, who was leaning against a nearby pew.

“My face is doing nothing unusual.”

“Will Lady Laura like me?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good. Does she like ponies?” she asked, clasping her hands together in front of her chest, her brown eyes bright.

“I don’t know.”

“You should have asked before you married her,” Iris gasped. “What if she doesn’t like Buttons? And what if she’s afraid of horses? And… oh dear, what if she’s afraid of being outside?”

“Iris.” Nathaniel looked down at her, and something in his chest, drawn tight as a bowstring since he’d walked into this church, eased at the sight of her small, earnest face.

She looks so much like Isabella.

“She will like you,” he assured her. “That is not something you need to worry about.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, actually.” He did not know how he knew it. He knew only that he did.

“You are quite likable, Iris.” Everett straightened from the pew, still grinning. “And you, dear friend, I have never in my life seen you look less like a man about to be wed and more like a man bracing for a punch in a boxing match.”

“How’s this?” Nathaniel asked, turning toward him and rolling his shoulders back.

“Relax your cursed jaw, at least, or the poor girl will think you mean to devour her at the altar rather than marry her.”

“You’re not helping.”

“I never claimed to be helpful. I claimed to be here, which was the extent of what you asked of me.” Everett’s teasing gentled, just slightly, as the organ began to swell somewhere behind them. “For what it’s worth, Nathaniel, you look like exactly what you are—a man who’s about to marry someone he barely knows, and is unprepared for how much that’s going to change him. Good luck.”

Nathaniel didn’t answer, because the doors at the back of the church had opened, and every thought in his head vanished out at once.

Heavens, she’s beautiful.

Laura stood framed in the pale grey light, her father a stiff presence at her side. All Nathaniel could focus on was her. He found he'd forgotten how to breathe properly. All he could do was stare at his bride.

She wore an ivory silk gown elegantly cut to her curvy frame. Her dark hair was fashioned gracefully, with none of the elaborate excess he’d seen on other brides. It was pinned up in braids with baby’s breath. The style suited her far better for its plainness, drawing the eye to her delicate face rather than away from it.