For all his brother’s protestations, he’d still agreed to procure a special license from the Archbishop of Canterbury allowing the banns to be waived, even if it was, as Adam suspected, to avoid public notice.
Georgina stood across from him, attired in a pale yellow gown. In spite of the dark glower Nick directed her way, an ethereal smile graced her bow-shaped lips. With the flecks of gold dancing in her eyes, she had the look of a fey fairy creature. In all the time he’d known Georgina, he’d seen her smile, laugh, but never had he seen this unabashed joy.
The vicar turned a page in his book, though he did not even glance down at it. “I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgment when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment, why ye may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, ye do now confess it. For be ye well assured, that so many as are coupled together otherwise than God’s Word doth allow are not joined together by God; neither is their Matrimony lawful.”
Adam held his breath, half-expecting a barrage of protestations from Nick. They didn’t come. With a smile, he glanced down at Georgina. His gut clenched.
Her cheeks had gone a sickly ashen gray, her eyes bore a tragic glimmer. Then she blinked and it was gone.
Her smile was firmly back in place, but the skin at the corners of her lips was stretched tight. He gave his head a clearing shake. Anyone’s happiness would be marred with Nick glaring holes of disapproval at their back.
The vicar cleared his throat and Adam yanked his gaze away from his bride. “Wilt thou have this Woman to be thy wedded Wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
Love her. Comfort her. Keep her in sickness and in health.
Georgina worried her lower lip between her teeth, and it struck him like a bolt of lightning…she thought herself unworthy. She didn’t believe herself deserving of his vows.
Oh, Georgina, my heart.
“I will,” he said, willing her to hear the promise in those two words.
The vicar turned to Georgina. She balanced on the tiptoes of her yellow satin slippers, like a bird poised to take flight. For the span of a single moment, he thought she might turn and flee. He sucked in a ragged breath as he faced the realization—he wasn’t marrying her out of any sense of obligation. He needed her just as much as she needed him. Mayhap more. She’d sustained him at his darkest time and even now, when the nightmares came, it was Georgina’s face that called him back to the living and kept him breathing.
Breaking with custom, he reached for her gloved hand. The vicar’s shocked gasp blended with Mother’s. He ignored them. His touch seemed to infuse courage into Georgina. Her spine stiffened. The tension in her mouth eased and her lips parted. A gentle sigh escaped her.
And the ceremony continued. When it came time for Georgina to recite her vows, she looked up at him. Everyone and everything else fell away—Nick’s heated anger, Tony’s grin of amusement, Mother’s quiet concern. The vicar’s words faded to a droning murmur.
She would be his wife. Prior to this moment, he’d not really wrapped his brain around the reality of it. He’d only ever entertained the prospect of marriage to Grace Blakely. Yet when he’d learned of her betrayal, he’d crushed thoughts of the future.
But Georgina, he wanted her with a need that threatened to shatter him.
The ceremony ended as it had begun. With silence. Even Tony had become a reserved bundle of formality. There was no breakfast. No well wishes. And, God help him, just then he hated his family for not welcoming Georgina into their fold.
He took Georgina by the arm and steered her from the room, past the unsmiling faces. She let out a startled squeak, but he didn’t stop. He’d not allow them to mar this day. Georgina didn’t deserve a wedding that felt more like a funeral. They could all go hang.
“Adam,” Georgina murmured. She dug her heels in.
He didn’t stop.
“Adam!”
Adam finally stopped in the foyer. Winningham, the family butler, stood with his fingers poised on the front door.
Georgina took his face between her hands, forcing him to look at her. “You cannot leave like this. They love you. Please, speak to them.”
He spoke through clenched teeth. “I’ve nothing to say to any of them.” He’d not tell her that for the past three days he’d done his damnedest to make Nick see reason. He’d sung her praises and virtues to Mother, Tony, and Nick. In the end, it hadn’t mattered.
“Please,” she whispered forlornly.
His eyes slid closed. Christ. When she looked at him with those soulful, brown eyes, he could not deny her the Queen’s jewels, if she desired them. He tried one more time. “I do not want to leave you. I—”
She pressed her gloved fingers to his lips. Even with the thin, white layer of fabric between them, her skin nearly singed him. Passion roared to life. The last thing he wanted to do was speak to his brother. “Go,” she urged. “I’ll be fine.” Her lips turned in a crooked smile. “I’ve encountered far worse treatment than your family’s disapproval.”
Her reminder didn’t make it better. In fact, it made him want to hunt down his elusive captors and kill them with his bare hands. The thought of Georgina suffering clawed at his insides.
“Go.” She gave him a gentle shove.
Adam claimed her lips in a swift kiss. “Okay, I shall, but only for you. Otherwise they could’ve all go rot with their opinions.”
She made a small sound of disapproval. “Don’t say that. They love you and care for you. Now, go to them.”
Adam captured her hands in his. He raised first one then the other set of knuckles to his lips. Without another word, he turned on his heel and headed for Nick’s office. It was as he’d said to Georgina—his brother’s approval didn’t matter. But he would do this. For her.
*
Georgina stared after him, feeling as lonely as an angel who’d been cast out of the gates of heaven.
“Hullo there, sister.”
She spun on her heel. Adam’s younger brother lounged against a marble pillar, arms folded across his chest. His lips turned up in a roguish grin.
“H-h-ello.” Her insides shriveled with shame at the humiliating stutter. Adam and his entire family were the epitome of all that was graceful, elegant, and urbane. She, on the other hand, was…just Georgina.
He shoved away from the pillar and closed the distance between them. “You got him to speak with Nick. That was no easy feat.”
“How did you know?”
Another rakish grin. “I’m a younger brother. I make it a point to know these things.”
Georgina smiled weakly at him.
“He’s really not a bad chap, you know.”
The earl might’ve been a loyal, loving brother, but he was just as arrogant and snobbish as the rest of the ton so she chose to neither agree nor disagree.