The Wedding Season by Deborah Hale

Author:Deborah Hale
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Steeple Hill
Published: 2011-07-27T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Two

Philip could hear the waver in his own voice and could barely control his trembling arm as he held up the condemning contract. It was no small thing, even a dangerous enterprise, to thwart the plans of an aristocrat as powerful as Lord Bennington. Yet honor demanded that Philip must attempt it.

The moment he spoke—shouted, actually—the couple before the altar turned. Philip felt a surge of satisfaction when Whitson went pale and his jaw dropped. But the horror and fear in the bride’s plain face stung Philip’s heart just as his sister’s tears had done when she learned of her fiancé’s treachery. Every person in the rows ahead of Philip turned to stare or gape or glare at him.

“How dare you?” The short, portly, gray-haired man standing beside the bride, no doubt Lord Bennington, sent Philip a haughty glower that should have flattened him. “What’s this all about?” What he lacked in stature, he made up for with his commanding voice and presence.

At least he didn’t dismiss Philip out of hand. Nor did the youthful minister, who closed his prayer book and watched the proceedings with a troubled frown.

“Sir.” Philip gulped down his anger and nervousness. “I have here a signed marriage contract between one Gregory Whitson of Surrey and myself on behalf of my sister, Miss Lucy Lindsey of Gloucestershire.”

Her mouth agape, the bride nonetheless stared up at Whitson with confusion. “Mr. Whitson?” Her voice shook.

Philip took some satisfaction that she, too, didn’t immediately dismiss his claim.

Whitson tugged at his ruffled collar but didn’t look at Philip. Instead, he bent down and whispered something to Lord Bennington. The earl stiffened, shot another glare at Philip, then gave the bride a softer gaze and squeezed her hand. The gesture imparted an odd reassurance to Philip. The man loved his daughter and would see to the matter. Just as Bennington was known for his arrogance, he also had a reputation for honesty and integrity.

“My lord.” The brown-haired minister appeared concerned, but didn’t cower before the earl. “Shall we adjourn to the sacristy?”

Bennington replied with a curt nod, gave Philip a brusque summoning gesture with a bejeweled hand and ushered his now-tearful daughter toward the side door.

Philip could only partly attribute the buzzing in his ears to the murmuring congregation. Nerves tight with anxiety, he moved into the aisle, glancing briefly at three look-alike sisters in the third row on the other side. No, not look-alike. One blonde miss openly sneered at him while the other two sent more kindly gazes his way. The young lady in the middle, whose face was a model of perfection, gave him the tiniest nod. He couldn’t guess what it meant. Perhaps nothing at all. Perhaps his nerves were playing tricks on him.

One thing that played no trick on his senses was the image in the window above the altar. With morning sun shining through the stained glass, the likeness of Christ the Good Shepherd glowed as a symbol of Truth, and Philip’s quivering heart quieted.

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