How to Woo a Wallflower (Romancing the Rules #3)(72)
Panic swept in to steal all the bliss. “Why on earth not? Gabe, whatever money you wish to collect, we don’t need it. My dowry will give us a decent life for years to come.”
“It’s not the money.” He scanned behind her, gripped her shoulders, and turned her body so that she could see across the yard. “I came tonight to catch the spider in its web.” He pointed to a gathering of men at the far edge of the yard. “Those men are coppers. Undercover detectives.” His breath warm against her nape, he added, “I’ve told them everything about Rigg. What I did for him. About his schemes and associates. Where to find his vaults of stolen goods. Where the bodies are buried.”
Clary swiveled and pressed her hand against his chest. His heart beat hard but in a steady rhythm. “Will they charge you with anything?”
“No, but I’ve agreed to testify in court.” He smoothed a hand down her arm. “I’ll make enemies by ratting on Rigg. But I’ve agreed to help the Met catch all they can. They’ve asked to take a formal statement at Leman Street station tonight.”
“Then I’ll go with you.”
“No.”
Clary let out a shaky breath. “Is that your answer to my proposal?”
He pulled her into his arms, stroked a hand down her back, and lowered his mouth to hers. Clary kissed him hungrily. Hours apart had been far too long. When they were both breathless, he rested his head against her forehead.
“That is my answer.” He kissed her again. “I love you.” Another kiss, deeper, sweeter. “I want to be your husband.”
“Then take me to the station with you.” Her stubborn, determined chin jutted out, and he ducked his head and kissed her there too.
“No, love,” he whispered against her skin. “I may be the last man who deserves it, but you’ll have to trust me.” He kissed her again but too quickly. A taste when she craved more. Then he led toward the road in front of the Crossroads pub. “Go to Fisk and tell Sara all is well. I’ll come and join you when I’m done at the station. This will be over before you know it.”
“And then we can begin?”
“Yes. I cut my ties to all of this tonight. Nothing here can haunt us anymore.” He smiled. “Now we can pick up where we left off.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Over Kit’s protests and Sophia’s offer to host their wedding at the Stanhope estate in Derbyshire, Clary insisted on a simple wedding. As quick as possible and with minimum fuss. Except for her dress. She did spend at least one sleepless night turning a simple cream silk gown into a glittering, organza-strewn masterpiece. For the ceremony itself, she and Gabe agreed on the nearest registry office.
They suggested to Sara that a double ceremony might be in order, but Gabe’s sister had been so eager to tie the knot with her groom that she refused to wait while Gabe and Clary obtained a license. A day after Sara and Thomas’s registry office wedding, Helen let Clary know that Nathaniel Landau had proposed. But they weren’t keen on a double wedding either.
Dr. Landau’s family had decided the couple deserved nothing less than an elaborate ceremony, and Nate’s aunts and uncles and cousins were making their way to London for the nuptials, some coming from as far as America.
The fifteen days leading up to their own wedding was agony. But when they joined hands before the registrar, with Kit and Phee serving as witnesses, all the wait was forgotten. Gabe’s gaze lit with happiness, though his jaw tightened when Clary smiled up at him.
“You’re sure about this?” he whispered, one glossy black brow arched.
“Once I fix on a course, I rarely change my mind.”
He grinned and lowered his head so that they were a hairbreadth apart. “But you’re also impulsive. Perhaps you’ve rushed into this too quickly.”
“I’m also impatient, so quickly suits me perfectly.”
Lifting a hand, he swept her veil aside to stroke the edge of her jaw. “You suit me perfectly, Clary Ruthven.”
The registrar, a slight, pale man, cleared his throat. “Then may we begin?”
The vows were read, and Gabe repeated them in a clipped, sharp accent, enunciating every word with loving care. Clary got caught up in watching his eyes, the cool blue warming as she said her vows, shifting from love and happiness to a heat she felt kindling inside her. When they reached the part regarding obedience, Gabe chuckled, and the registrar quelled him with a stern frown.
A moment later, they sealed their promises with a kiss, and Clary forgot that Kit and Phee were watching. The registrar tapped his toe, waiting impatiently for them to be done so that he could move on to the next couple.
Clary forgot everything but Gabe. She only knew he was in her arms, right where she wished him to be. She deepened the kiss, and he responded instantly, wrapping a hand around her waist to pull her body snug against his. He snagged her veil in his hand, and pins popped from her coiffure, but she didn’t care. She kissed him again. And once more for good measure.
Kit and Phee offered hugs and well wishes and reminded them of the celebratory dinner party Sophia and Grey were hosting later in the evening. Nate and Helen would be there, and Sara and Thomas too.
“We’ll be there,” Gabe promised.
Clary’s throat was still too full. In fact, her whole body felt stretched, buoyant with joy and anticipation. She wanted to savor every moment as Gabriel’s wife, yet part of her wished to rush forward to the next day with him and the next. Most of all, she couldn’t wait for the night, when she would have him all to herself.