“No, lass. I didnae do that.”
“Then where did the money come from?”
“Well, I didnae steal it, if that’s what ye’re thinking.”
“Of course not,” she hissed with sudden annoyance. “But considering how thrilled you were with earning five pounds a week when we first met, I know you’re not exactly rich.”
“Is that an issue for ye?”
“No. I love you for who you are, not for the amount of money you have.”
“Then I cannae see the problem.”
Gritting her teeth, Charlotte leaned forward. “The problem, Blayne, is that I want honesty in my marriage. So tell me, how did you manage to come up with one thousand pounds?”
He blew out a breath. “Ye willnae let this go, will ye?”
“Not likely. No.”
“Very well. If ye must ken, I had the money in my account at the bank.” When Charlotte said nothing, he eventually added, “I may not be more than a tavern keep, but that doesnae mean I’m financially irresponsible.”
“I never suggested you were,” Charlotte said so he’d not think less of her. “But one thousand pounds is no small sum.”
“Ye’re right. It’s taken me almost twenty years to accumulate.”
Air whooshed out of Charlotte’s lungs. It felt like her heart ceased beating for a second while lead formed in her stomach. She blinked as reality bore down upon her. “Those were your life savings.”
He shrugged as if this were completely inconsequential.
Charlotte’s eyes began to sting. Her throat drew tight and Blayne transformed into a blurry image. “You gave my father all the money you put aside for your future.”
“Of course I did.” His voice was so soft and gentle it only made Charlotte cry harder. A sob shook her and then, somehow, he was there, crouching beside her chair while stroking away her tears with his fingers. “Balanced against yer happiness, it was an easy choice to make.”
“You love me that much?”
“Of course I do. And I reckoned it would only be a temporary problem since ye’ll be raking in money as soon as we fix the publishing issue relating to yer latest book.”
“Had I known, I never would have allowed you to do this.”
Pensiveness stole into his eyes. “Ye have regrets?”
“No. Not with regard to getting engaged with you at least. I just wish you hadn’t had to give up so much.”
Blayne brushed his lips against hers. “Let’s just be glad yer father wasnae in need of a larger sum, or I’m nae sure everything would have worked out as well.”
“I would have married you anyway. No matter the possible scandal or the risk of getting cut off from my family, you and I would have spoken our vows. But I am glad it didn’t come to that, and I swear to you, Blayne, I’ll do what I can to pay you back.”
“There’s nae need for that, luv. My plans for the future have changed now, and while I may not have as much money as I once did, I can still afford to rent a decent place for us, just like I promised yer father.”
Unsure if her heart could handle loving him more than she already did, Charlotte kissed him with fervor. He’d given up everything he’d worked toward for the last nineteen years, just so she could have peace with her father. It was beyond remarkable.
“I have something for you,” she said when Blayne returned to his chair. “It’s not much, but I do think you’ll like it.”
“There’s no chance of me not doing so if it’s from ye.”
Steeling herself for his reaction, Charlotte reached down and picked up the plant she’d bought that morning. She set it on the table and waited for him to unwrap it.
“A lemon tree?”
“From what I gather, they require a great deal of attention, but I wanted to give you something different that can also survive and produce fruit indoors.”
“It’s perfect.” Blayne gazed at the small tree in mesmerized silence for a while before shifting his gaze back to Charlotte. “Ye are perfect, in every conceivable way.”
Overjoyed, she grinned at him while hoping the next two weeks would fly by, because as far as she was concerned, their wedding day couldn’t come soon enough.
It seemed like forever before his wedding day arrived. Blayne knew Charlotte had been busy in recent weeks but so had he. Perhaps if they’d seen each other more often, the time would have flown by quicker, but between finding a house to rent and all the practicalities related to that, plus having a new set of clothes ordered for himself, it had been hard to manage. At least now, there were only a couple of hours left before he and Charlotte would be pronounced husband and wife.
Excitement and relief rippled through him. He’d not heard from his uncle, which meant his marriage had either escaped his notice, that he’d not realized Blayne MacNeil and James Callanach were one and the same, or that he no longer cared about apprehending his nephew. Whatever the case, it would allow Blayne to move on and build the future he so dearly wanted with Charlotte by his side.
Dressed in black with a red and gold brocade waistcoat, which were both brightened by his white shirt and cravat, Blayne set off for the church. He’d had a clean shave and a fresh haircut as soon as he’d risen, after which he’d taken a bath before eating breakfast. Since he’d not hired any servants, Claus had assisted as make-shift valet. The younger man strode alongside him now, keeping pace as they made their way toward St. George’s.
“I’ve a feeling ye’ll be seeing more of Daisy once her mistress and I are wed,” Blayne said. His mood was as bright as the sun in the sky. Nothing would please him more than to see other men as happy as he. “Maybe ye can have a future with her.”
“I do like her lot,” Claus said after a few more paces.
“And she clearly likes ye.”
“Do you think so?”
“Aye. It’s blatantly obvious, lad. If ye want her to be yers, I reckon she will be.”
“I have been wondering about asking her out for a stroll or maybe to luncheon if she can spare the time one day. Except ladies’ maids don’t get much time off so—”
“Leave it with me, Claus. I’ll make sure Miss Russell can manage without her on occasion.”
Claus answered with a broad smile. “Thank you, Blayne. I appreciate that.”
“Think nothing of it.” They arrived at the church where the vicar stood waiting. Guthrie and Regina had also arrived together with Marcus and a few other people.
“Are you ready?” Guthrie asked once Blayne had finished greeting everyone and they’d headed inside. “Or is your stomach one big knot the way mine was when I waited here for my bride?”
“I must confess I feel like a tangled mess inside.”
Guthrie grinned and gave him a slap on the back as they moved toward the altar where they would await Charlotte’s arrival. “It will ease the moment you see her step through those doors. Mark my word.”
Blayne answered with a stiff nod and took his position with Guthrie by his side. He dipped his head occasionally in acknowledgement of guests arriving and was surprised by how many peers showed up. The Dukes of Huntley, Coventry, and Redding were all in attendance together with their wives, as was Redding’s brother, Mr. Lowell and his wife, the former Duchess of Tremaine. Besides them, Blayne spotted the Earl of Fielding who sat with his wife a bit further back. And then there were the Earl and Countess of Warwick along with a slew of other people Blayne didn’t know. Charlotte’s parents must have invited them all, which had to mean they’d truly changed their minds about him or else they’d have favored a more discreet event.