Chapter 33

Two weeks later, in St. James Park, Marlowe stood in front of her repaired ballon. It was to be its maiden voyage. If she

looked closely enough, she could see a few of the mended tears. She thought the colorful strips of cloth had never looked

more beautiful.

There had been a downpour that morning, but now the skies were clear and the sun bright.

Beside her, Langdon opened the door she’d had added to the wicker basket so it was easier to get in and out of. Stepping into

the gondola, taking a deep breath, she felt as though she’d come home.

“Come along, Vicar,” Langdon said.

The older gentleman, clutching his Bible, looked askance at her beloved contraption. “Are you quite certain it’s safe?”

“For the ceremony, we’re only ascending a few feet. It’ll stay tethered to the ground. Perfectly harmless.” He looked at her, an eyebrow arched. He was so handsome in his gray trousers, waistcoat, and neckcloth, white shirt, blue frockcoat, and top hat. She could hardly believe he was going to be hers forever.

“Perfectly safe,” she assured him and the vicar, as well as those who’d be joining them.

With a bit more grumbling, the vicar finally boarded. The gondola rocked slightly. He grabbed onto the edge of the basket

and uttered a prayer. She suspected her wedding was going to contain more prayers than any other in England.

Langdon assisted Poppy in coming on board. She was going to serve as Marlowe’s attendant. Stuart, as best man, followed.

“Anyone else?” Langdon asked.

His entire family—parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, by heart or by blood—were gathered around them. Marlowe’s mother had decided

not to join them. She had no fond memories of balloons.

“As there is room,” the Countess of Claybourne said, taking her husband’s hand and dragging him after her.

Before Marlowe had left for the park, she’d studied her reflection in the cheval glass and felt a bit like she was wearing

a lie. Her gown was ivory and looked so pure and innocent, when she was anything but. Sophie had assisted her when she went

to the modiste, had convinced her that it was perfectly acceptable for her to wear a gown such as the one she now wore.

“You’re leaving the old life behind, starting afresh. Let your wedding gown announce that loud and clear.”

She’d asked Sophie to stand with her, but her friend had declined and reminded her, “You’re leaving the old life behind.”

“But not you, Sophie. Not my friend.”

Sophie had given her a sad smile. “I’ve known women who have left this life. They all promise to stay in touch but eventually

they stop coming to call. You will as well. And I don’t blame you. Nor do I hold it against you. But it’s less painful if

we make a clean break.”

Therefore, they’d hugged and wept and said their goodbyes.

After his parents were situated, Langdon stepped onto the car, closed, and bolted the door. She’d already explained what he

would need to do. He took hold of a bag of sand and dropped it over the side. Then another and another.

The balloon began to slowly rise. Poppy squealed. The vicar prayed. Some in the crowd gasped. Others released exclamations

of awe.

Edging around Stuart, Langdon came to stand beside her and took her hands. “Whenever you’re ready, Vicar. I’m incredibly anxious

to take this remarkable woman as my wife.”

Much to her surprise, the vicar’s voice rang out loud and clear and she suspected it traveled through the entire park. While

he spoke about the sanctity of marriage, she never took her gaze from her soon-to-be husband. She was certain life would deal

them some challenges, but she also knew together they could weather any storm.

As he placed the diamond-encrusted band on her finger, Langdon repeated his vows so passionately that she thought she might find them emblazoned on her skin somewhere. They most certainly found a home in her heart.

When the vicar pronounced them man and wife, Langdon took her in his arms and kissed her—not with the passion he would later

that night—but she was well aware of the heat simmering below the surface.

Several men, who’d remained on the ground, came forward and grabbed hold of the tethers, bringing the balloon back to earth.

The vicar was the first to disembark... quite hastily in fact.

While everyone else departed from the car, Marlowe waited, happy and content and in love. And loved.

While the path she’d traveled to get here might not have been the one she would have chosen had circumstances been different,

she neither resented nor regretted the journey.

Her husband leaned toward her and whispered in her ear, “Are you ready for our grand exit?”

She nodded, smiled.

He turned to face his family. “My bride and I want to thank you all for sharing these moments with us. As you know, a luncheon

has been prepared for you at my parents’ residence, but we shan’t be joining you. It is time for us to make our departure.”

She touched his arm. “I have something to say.”

He stepped back slightly. “Of course.”

She looked out over the smiling crowd. “I want to add my thanks to my husband’s but not only for your being here, but for accepting me, faults and all. While I have known you for hardly any time at all, I do know that you already hold a place in my heart, and I shall endeavor to ensure I earn a place in yours.”

“You already have, sweetheart,” the Earl of Claybourne said. “Just take care of each other.”

“Oh, we shall.” She looked up, gasped, and wrapped her hand around Langdon’s arm. “Oh, look, a rainbow.”

“I ordered it just for you.”

She laughed lightly. “You command nature now, do you?”

He grinned, put an arm around her, and drew her in close.

“Where are the two of you going for your wedding trip?” Poppy asked.

“We’re going to the other side of that rainbow,” he said. When he looked at Marlowe, his eyes were twinkling with mischief.

“Are you ready for an adventure, Lady Langdon?”

“I’m ready for anything, as long as we’re together.”