Confessions of a Royal Bridegroom(70)

“What does it matter what my hair looks like?” she grumbled. “I’ll just keep my bonnet on.”

Rose and Patience exchanged a knowing glance that made Justine grind her teeth. They obviously thought she was nervous about her impending nuptials. She was, but not for the reasons they likely imagined—although she had been doing her best to ignore the kiss she and Griffin had shared last night. That had stemmed from a ridiculous lapse in judgment, a momentary weakness she wouldn’t allow to happen again.

More pressing than any confusion over her emotional response to her future husband was what loomed before her. For today meant the end of the life she’d carved out for herself with diligent, careful steps. It meant she would once more be at the mercy of a charming but reckless man who thought nothing of the chaos he created in his wake. Like her father, Griffin would keep her at sixes and sevens with all kinds of odd, even scandalous, behavior that she would be expected to manage and whitewash, imposing order where very little existed. The idea of returning to a life of such uncertainty churned her stomach.

At least in her father’s case, Justine knew how much he had loved his children. And as much as she had resented the way Papa had lived his life, he’d been doing something important—something for the greater good that he believed merited the sacrifices imposed on himself and his family. But no one would ever accuse Griffin Steele of sacrificing himself for the common good or putting his needs before others. He was a dangerous, hardened rake and reprobate who’d earned his fortune in a way that should disgust any respectable person.

And into the hands of such a man was Justine forced to entrust her fate. It still seemed utterly impossible.

“Here, miss,” Rose said in a coaxing voice as she picked up the new brush she’d placed carefully on the dressing table. “Let me do it for you. You’ve got such lovely hair. It would be a shame to cover it up, especially today.”

Sighing, Justine capitulated, too tired to fight over something of no consequence. In fact, as Rose undid the braid, letting the heavy masses of hair fall around Justine’s shoulders, she could barely hold back a pleasurable little moan at the release of tension on her scalp. Like the idiot she was, she’d been punishing herself by pulling her hair back so tightly, jabbing pins into it as if her very life depended on them. Somehow it had seemed important to look exactly as she always did, day in day out, despite the momentous change this day would bring.

As Rose smoothed the brush through her hair, Justine fiddled with the hand mirror on her dressing table. It was part of the ornate enamel and bronze vanity set Phelps had delivered first thing this morning, a wedding present from the bridegroom. She’d been shocked to receive the expensive gift—any gift at all, for that matter—but Phelps had thrust the box into her hands and retreated down the hall before she’d been able to utter a word.

Enraptured, Rose and Patience had exclaimed their delight over the beautiful gilding and the exquisite, delicate portraits of Mrs. Siddons and other great actresses of the British theater that ornamented the backs of two hairbrushes, a hand mirror, a dress brush, and a nail buffer. The set was colorful, expensive, and entirely frivolous, and not something Justine would ever think to buy for herself—even if she’d been able to afford it. And although she could appreciate the beauty of the pieces, they seemed so out of keeping with the situation that she hadn’t known how to react.

Her first impulse had been to reject the gift, but Rose and Patience had shrieked, telling her she couldn’t possibly offend Mr. Griffin. Justine reluctantly saw the sense in that. Since she and her future husband had to pull in harness, there was no point in starting off on a rude footing. And Griffin’s note had reassured her somewhat. Written in a sardonic, light tone, he had simply said that a bridegroom was expected to give his bride a gift, no matter how awkward the circumstances, and he hoped Justine would find the small token both charming and useful, which is how he thought of her.