Spending Christmas in Hell (Diamonds of London #8)

Chapter Six

Dear heavens, this is truly happening.

Ashlynn’s hand trembled where it rested on the baronet’s arm. A flutter of unease went through her belly. A glance about the room showed the assembled guests, and for a second, she went lightheaded. In mere moments, she would say vows to this man, this stranger beside her.

I don’t know if I can do this!

Mr. Tate cleared his throat then addressed the room at large. “Sir Timothy would like to get underway, so if everyone could settle, please?”

Fabric rustled and whispered words filled the air as guests made themselves comfortable. As best she could, Ashlynn tamped her worries and hoped to concentrate on the imminent ceremony.

“I have the special license here, so thank you for attending to the details. You would be surprised at how many couples are not prepared.”

Hysterical laughter rose in her throat, for she wasn’t prepared in the least, but she swallowed down the urge to release the sound.

Mr. Tate tucked the paper into his book. Leather cracked when the minister opened his Book of Common Prayer. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this gathering, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony; which is an honorable estate, instituted of God in the time of man’s innocency, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church…”

The minister’s words faded as worry intruded into her thoughts. Have I made the right decision? After all, she and Sir Timothy hardly knew each other. In total, they had spent perhaps three hours together in the past two days. That wasn’t enough to build a foundation for any sort of relationship. She saw the minister’s lips moving but the words were lost in the fog shrouding her brain. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she would ever be married, especially after the last two proposals, but here she stood beside a man who was a stranger, a man who’d rescued her from a life of struggle and of shame, a man who smelled so delicious she could hardly concentrate, a man whose understated strength could be felt beneath her fingertips, and an odd sort of security came over her. Perhaps this union wouldn’t prove the disaster she feared.

It wasn’t until Sir Timothy discreetly cleared his throat that she ceased her wool-gathering and attended to what the minister said as he addressed her soon-to-be-husband.

“Wilt thou have this Woman to 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?”

Ashlynn trembled. How could she not? This was the single most important moment in her life. For that matter, what sort of man was he? Would he take a mistress? Was he a womanizer? Did he abuse women? There was no way to know simply by looking at him, so she held her breath held in anticipation as her heart raced.

Not that this is a marriage in all the ways that matter. It will be in name only, for convenience.

In a clear voice, Sir Timothy answered, “I will.”

Her hands shook as the minister addressed her.

“Wilt thou have this Man to thy wedded Husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

“I…” What of her freedom? What of her future? Would he keep his word? Then she straightened her spine. Ashlynn squeezed her fingers upon Sir Timothy’s arm. No matter what, she would manage just as she’d always done. “I will.” Her answer came out in a whisper, for tears crowded her throat. This was such a pinnacle moment. I wish my parents were here to witness it. A wave of grief slammed into her, for she felt her father’s loss hard in that moment.

The baronet was instructed to take her right hand in his right hand, and hers shook so badly that he gently squeezed her fingers. He went so far as to put his lips to her ear and whispered, “I promise nothing will change; you can live the life you wish only now you will be a true lady, and you will know security.”

“And you won’t abandon me?” Which was one of the core reasons for doing this.

A muscle in his cheek twitched. “Not unless you will it.”

“I hope you are a man of your word.” Ashlynn smiled lest he think she looked upon the ceremony with dread. This was the most difficult thing she’d ever done in her life, and oddly, she hoped to make him proud, hoped he would view her as worthy of the position. “Thank you for this opportunity and chance,” she continued to whisper.

“It is something we both need,” he said with a nod.

The minister cleared his throat and continued with a raised eyebrow. Clearly, he wasn’t used to conversations within the nuptial ceremony itself. “Sir Timothy, repeat after me…” He intoned words she scarcely heard until the baronet said them to her.

“I, Sir Timothy Edward Dashfield, take thee Ashlynn Marie Athercrombe to my wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, ‘till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.”

They were directed to release hands, and Ashlynn was told to then hold Sir Timothy’s right hand with her right hand. “Ahem.” The minister addressed her. “Miss Athercrombe, repeat after me.” He gave her the words, and she prayed she remember them without embarrassing herself.

“I, Ashlynn Marie Athercrombe, take thee Sir Timothy Edward Dashfield to my wedded Husband.” She paused to swallow and squeeze his hand. “To have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, ‘till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “And thereto I give thee my troth.” How wonderful and slightly terrifying such a thing was, and now she would never be alone. She had someone in her life again.

Please bring me comfort in this difficult time… and if there is a hope for love, let me know that too.

They were instructed to again release their hands. Sir Timothy solicitously put a leather pouch that clinked with coins on top of the minister’s open book, no doubt to pay for services rendered. He also laid a lovely band of golden filagree on the book. An oval-shaped emerald was affixed to the band in a matching filigreed setting. It sparkled in the candlelight.

“I thank you for your support.” The pouch disappeared into the minister’s waistcoat pocket then he took up the ring and murmured a few words of a blessing on it.

I wish my father were here to give me a proper Irish blessing. Suddenly, she missed the traditions of her homeland.

“Of course.” Once the minister returned the ring to Sir Timothy, he took up her left hand and slipped the bauble on the fourth finger. “I chose this ring for you because it reminds me of your eyes. It once belonged to my grandmother on my father’s side, and I believe there is a matching parure, which will be yours should you wish it.”

“How lovely. I have never owned something so valuable.” Honored he had picked this particular ring over any other, she blinked back the tears that welled in her eyes. “I hope I will never cause you pain or grief, and that you will find happiness with me.”

Sir Timothy snorted. “Well, you have certainly kept me guessing thus far.”

She huffed. “I can only be who I am.”

“I never asked you to be anyone else.” But his attention was on the minister, who nodded.

“Repeat after me, Sir Timothy,” Mr. Tate said.

In his steady tenor, the baronet did so. “With this Ring I thee wed, with my Body I thee worship,” his voice wavered on those words, for theirs was naught but a marriage in name only, “and with all my worldly Goods I thee endow.” He paused, pressed his lips together, then sought out her gaze with his. “Please know you will never need to struggle again. Everything that I have is now yours.” His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow. “In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

“Thank you,” she managed in a choked whisper. Ashlynn kneeled when he did, still clutching his hand while the minister invited all in attendance to pray.

As the words droned on, she closed her eyes and sent up a simpler prayer of her own, conveying gratitude and thankfulness and asking for wisdom to start the journey with the stranger at her side. If they could strive for friendship, everything would prove easier.

After the prayer ended, Sir Timothy stood and brought her to her feet. The minister intoned, “I now pronounce thee husband and wife.”

The ceremony was over. They were married.

No longer was she alone in the world, and neither would she be hungry or cold or uncomforted in times of grief. A wave of doubt washed over her, but when she glanced at her new husband, he briefly met her gaze and gave her a slight grin. Flutters danced through her lower belly to chase away some of the worry, yet she still didn’t know how they would get on together. Was he feeling ill at ease as well?

“Come,” he said into her ear. “We must sign the registry.” They were ushered to a table near the windows where the young clerk waited. Moments later, they both signed the registry, which made the union official. Afterward, Sir Timothy smiled. “For better or for worse, we go through life together.”

And God help and forgive us both for the mistakes we will surely make.

“I can hardly believe we are wed.” It would take some time to acclimate to it. But she couldn’t fret or marvel over it, for they were soon surrounded by well-wishers, which were basically people she didn’t know.

The first couple to approach was Mr. Ridgeway and his wife, who he introduced as Felicity.

It was Mrs. Ridgeway who spoke to her as her new husband pulled Mr. Ridgeway aside for a whispered conversation.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Lady Dashfield. Hugh is quite fond of your husband, they’ve been best friends since Eton, or so he’s told me, but he’s been beside himself with the surprise of this marriage.”

Heat infused Ashlynn’s cheeks. “I know it was sudden, but—”

“There is no need for an explanation.” Felicity took her hands and squeezed her fingers. “It doesn’t matter how you two came to be married and it doesn’t matter what sort of union you have. Give it time, and as you spend time with Timothy, keep an open mind. The Christmastide holidays have a way of glossing over differences and bringing two people together where they never would consider it before.”

Ashlynn frowned. “Do you truly believe that?”

“I do.” The other woman smiled. “Because it happened to me. Of course, my marriage to Hugh began a bit differently, but our union was the same premise as yours. Then, things… changed. Slowly, but they did. He wormed his way beneath the prickles until I couldn’t help but fall in love with him.”

Her chest tightened, and she couldn’t help but hold onto the nugget of hope that lodged there, deep down where no one could see it. “Thank you. It should be… interesting.”

Felicity giggled. “If you should need to talk, I’m always available.” Then, with a wave, she wandered over to where a young girl waited, and afterward, they joined Mr. Ridgeway.

Before Ashlynn could join her new husband, another lady came over to her while the man who was with her went on to talk with the baronet. This one’s flaming red hair and sprinkling of freckles on her cheeks immediately put her at ease.

“Good morning and congratulations on your nuptials.” The hint of an Irish brogue in her voice immediately transported Ashlynn back to her childhood. “I am Lady Tess Ridley. Married to that handsome man over there.” She gestured to the man with the baronet. “We’re still in the honeymoon stage, so excuse saccharine displays of affection.” They both shared a laugh. “He’s a professor of botany, and the biggest thorn in my side, but I love him to pieces.”

“How lovely.” With enthusiasm, she shook Lady Tess’ hand. “I’m Ashlynn. A woman with no title.”

“Until now.” The other woman winked. “And from Ireland I’ll wager?” Happiness danced in the other woman’s eyes when she nodded. “I am too, well, half Irish that is. My father was an English earl.”

“It is good to hear the Irish accent in a world of proper English.” Her smile faded. “It makes me homesick and missing my parents.”

“Once Ireland is in your blood, you’ll never forget it.” As she spoke, she glanced over at her husband, and there was no mistaking the affection in her expression. “How did you meet your husband? When Jameson told me of the nuptial ceremony, even he remarked on the swiftness of it.”

“Oh.” The heat intensified in her cheeks. “I met Sir Timothy three days ago.” Briefly, she the other woman a history of what had occurred. “Now, here we are.” She held up her left hand and admired the emerald. “Married.”

Lady Tess frowned. “You didn’t know him until three days ago?”

“No.”

“And you didn’t know of him before that?”

“I did not. In fact, for the last six months, I have been battling grief from my father’s passing, so I haven’t been all that aware of what has been happening around me.” Just referring to him in passing left a pall of sadness in her heart.

Lady Tess gawked at her, but then grinned. “I suppose it’s too early to have any sort of feelings for him.”

“Other than annoyance, a bit of anger, sadness, and perhaps regret?”

They shared a giggle.

“Men tend to bring those things out in women,” Lady Tess said with a laugh.

The jovialness continued to set Ashlynn at ease. “There was no other way. I’d default on the rent, lose my father’s shop, and be out in the gutter, no doubt forced to make coin on my back.” She heaved a sigh. “To be fair, Sir Timothy said something about eventually needing a wife.”

“They always do, and he’s not growing younger, this is true. According to my husband through Mr. Ridgeway, the baronet has been drowning in ennui or maudlin emotions since his best friend wed. Then once they opened the counting house, he has seemingly carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.”

Ashlynn took a few moments to absorb the information. “Then you think he wants a wife in more than name only?”

The other lady shrugged. “It’s possible, but he’s a mystery to me. Ever since I wed Jameson, I’m afraid I’ve been busy with other things .”

Another round of heat went through her cheeks. Would she ever have a romantic relationship like the two other ladies? “Ah.”

“Well, good luck with your new husband.” Lady Tess patted Ashlynn’s shoulder. “You must have seen something in him or else you wouldn’t have agreed to marry him regardless of how wretched your circumstances. And it’s Christmastide. There is no better time of the year to get to know someone.”

“That’s what Mrs. Ridgeway said too, and I hope you’re both right.” Her gaze wandered to her husband as he talked with the two men. “There is every possibility he and I will spend Christmas in hell because we can’t get along or we’re too wrong for each other.”

“Only time will tell.” Lady Tess offered something to her on her palm. “For luck.” It was a silver bracelet featuring a Claddagh knot which meant friendship, loyalty, and love. “I found this in a shop the last time I was in Ireland and thought it pretty, but somehow I think you’ll take comfort in this more than I will.”

“Thank you.” With her eyes misting with tears, Ashlynn slipped it onto her left wrist. “I’m afraid I’ve suddenly been thrust into a world I have no idea how to navigate, and with a husband no less.”

“Trust your heart and your own instincts. All will happen as it should.” Lady Tess winked and then moved away to join her husband.

Eventually, the guests finished the wedding breakfast and left the house, which meant there was nothing to do except talk to her new husband. An hour ago, her belongings had been delivered to this house, and that was the last string connecting her to the past, with the exception of her father’s shop. It was a touch bittersweet.

Ashlynn sighed as she glanced out the dining room window. “It’s snowing. I suppose that is perfect for our wedding day.” Granted, it was a light snow, and though she didn’t enjoy such precipitation, it did tend to make Mayfair a prettier place. That white blanket hid all the ugliness outside. Could her nuptials do the same for her life?

The baronet drew close. “Let us remove to the drawing room. We’ll be more comfortable there, and we do have things to discuss.”

“All right.” She frowned as she escorted her across the room, out into the corridor, and then into the drawing room. The delicious warmth from the fireplace had her craving more of that, and she slipped into a chair close by. “Are you concerned I will embarrass you with bad manners?”

“Of course not.” He scoffed. “You were raised by Irish parents in London to be a member of society and the ton , and your father was a gentleman.” When he dropped his body onto the low sofa near her location, he met her gaze. “As I told you before, your ancestry is nothing to have shame about. Truth be told, I enjoy hearing that Irish lilt in your voice.”

“Oh.” A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Thank you.” The longer she stared at him, the more tiny golden flecks swam into the rich brown depths of his eyes. “What do you expect of me from this marriage? I realize it’s in name only, but I’m sure there are certain things I must do.”

“When we entertain, you’ll need to be my hostess, of course. Sometime tomorrow, engage the services of a modiste and have an entire wardrobe ordered. It’s time you owned clothing that fit your frame.” His grin helped to soften the observation. “Continue doing work with your charity. Take on the responsibilities of running this household. I’m certain the staff will be giddy to meet you, and if you can win over the housekeeper, all will be well. She is quite managing.”

She didn’t mean to laugh, but it struck her as funny. “You probably deserved it.”

“Most likely.” The delicate skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled with another grin. “As for me, I’ll be the charming host at your side when we entertain or are seen about Town. In short, I’ll try not to be an arse.”

This was acceptable. “And I will try to tolerate you as a husband even though I have spent the past six months by myself.”

“I shall bear that in mind.”

They looked at each other then both laughed.

The baronet stood. “I’ve told my housekeeper to make up one of the guest rooms for you. I assume you don’t wish you share my bed.”

Oh, dear. Heat slapped at her cheeks. “I do not. At least not immediately.”

“Ah.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Is that something you’ve contemplated in the short time we’ve known each other?”

“Um…” If she continued to blush in his presence, she would burn to death. “How could I not? For me, marriage is forever. It’s serious and sacred. My father taught me that.” Religion was another aspect in which she was different from her husband. Though not a rigorous practicing Catholic, she was fairly certain he was Protestant. That would cause all sorts of issues between them. “In all honesty, the likelihood of us having a union in name only for a lifetime isn’t feasible. People grow close while living together. I’m sure you can be charming past trying to squeeze blood from a turnip for collection on debts.”

“You have quite a sense of humor.” He offered her a hand, and when she slipped her fingers into his palm, tingling warmth danced upward to her elbow. “We shall pass the Christmastide season and see how things go. I’m not the ogre or the apparent skin flint you believe me to be.”

“Ha!” As she gained her feet, Ashlynn peered upward into his face. “Well, you must have some capacity for compassion since you married me, Sir Timothy.”

He nodded. “You are my wife. Please drop the title, and I will call you Ashlynn.”

Dear heavens. Hearing her name in his deep tenor sent shivers of something down her spine. “Of course.” Suddenly nervous, for he hadn’t released her hand, she cleared her throat. “I appreciate what you’ve done for me, because I was at my wit’s end. Living in the gutter was to be my next step.”

“Like the people you have helped over the years?” he asked in a soft voice. “Like the people who think you are their angel of mercy?”

Shock slammed into her chest. “How did you know?”

“After we met, I asked around. It seems you have quite the good name in the poor communities around London.”

“Well, I…” Drat, there wasn’t annoyance or judgment in his gaze. Did that mean he was pleased with her charitable endeavors?

“I am impressed with your ambition and your kind heart. Please feel free to continue them now that we’re wed. I have even put said provision in the contract that grants you a set amount each month to feed the poor.”

“What?” Another wave of shock slammed into her. “You? The miser?”

“Ah.” His chuckle tickled through her chest. It was a quite a delicious feeling. “As I said, I’m not a bad person.”

“No, it doesn’t appear you are.” And she appreciated this boon. She could do so much more for those people. “My father always told me never to marry a man I don’t respect. Admiration is fleeting and can wane, but respect is hard earned.”

“Sound advice.” Before she could say anything else, he tugged her into a loose embrace. “Does that mean you respect me after three days?”

Did she? Her heartbeat accelerated being so close to him. “Oddly enough, I do.”

“Good, because I hold that for you as well. It is a start, don’t you think?” Then he put a curled finger beneath her chin, brought her head up until their gazes connected, and lowered his lips to hers.

Butterflies awoke in Ashlynn’s lower belly. A woman didn’t gain the age of nine and twenty without having been kissed at least a few times in her life, and as kisses went, it was much more satisfying and a bit emotional than the one she’d given him the other day. However, it didn’t last very long.

When their gazes met once more and he pulled slightly away, he said, “Welcome home, Lady Dashfield.”

It was such a lovely thing to do, and he smelled so good, and looked so handsome in his tailcoat that she gave him a tiny nod. Unexpectedly, she belonged somewhere now, where she hadn’t felt that since her father had died. “Thank you.”

“The least I can do.” When he raised an eyebrow, she gave him a nod. He resettled her into his arms and kissed her again.

This time there was a bit more stick behind it, almost as if he was introducing himself to her through that one meeting of mouths. As he moved his lips over hers, she slipped her arms about the breadth of his shoulders and mimicked his actions. His confidence in this had the ability to steal her breath, and already tiny fires erupted in her blood.

Again, it was over too soon, but in a way, that was as it should be, for a marriage in name only shouldn’t include kisses that made her feel as if her feet no longer touched the floor.

This time when he pulled away, Ashlynn backed out of his arms. If she remained, it would be all too easy to stay there. “Uh, I suppose I should say we’ve sealed our fate as a married couple with the kiss, haven’t we?”

His chuckle sounded as nervous as she felt. “Neatly said.” Then he cleared his throat and straightened the knot of his cravat. “Well, I shall leave you to settle in. Let me show you to your bedchamber. Your luggage should have already arrived, and I’ll summon Mrs. Copeland so you can meet her. Perhaps she will introduce you to the rest of the staff.”

“Right.” Somewhat bemused and confused, she nodded, but despite her misgivings and her adamancy she didn’t need a husband, she was at sixes and seven by this man. “It will be good to have some sort of normalcy again.”

Though these past few days had been a whirlwind, they’d been necessary to usher in this next phase of her life. Even more odd, she might be looking forward to the Christmastide season despite how battered her soul was after… everything.