“No, Thea,no more questions. So he sees something you don’t—”
“You don’t find that mad, or at the least odd?”
Mirabel gave her a look as old as time. “Most of us have some madness in us. We believe what we believe.”
“I’m not like that—,” Thea started to protest.
“No, you are just expecting love to betray you. You had a bad marriage to a man who turned out not to be what you thought he was. But at some point, Thea, you must trust someone. And remember, one rarely has the opportunity to follow one’s heart. Follow your heart. Grab on to this with both hands, my friend.”
“My heart betrayed me once before,” Thea said.
“Did it? Or were you just not listening to what it was really saying before you made your choice? You are very headstrong, Thea. Be careful youaren’t being foolishly independent.” Mirabel took a step toward the door. “Furthermore, you have your sons to think of now.”
Her sons. Their lives would be so much better under Lyon’s protection—and Mirabel knew it.
Thea began following Mirabel to the door. “Do you believe I can defeat this curse he believes in?” she asked.
“My dear, I believe love can do anything.”
Chapter Twelve
Love could do anything.
Mirabel’s declaration challenged Thea. It reverberated in her mind as she dressed and prepared to wed Neal.
The ceremony took place in an ancient chapel on the abbey’s estate as close to noon as possible. The Reverend Mr. Wells could not arrive sooner.
Thea had spent the night in her bed alone. She had not known where Neal had been. After insisting that they marry with all haste, he’d disappeared up to his room. Of course, Mirabel had kept Thea so busy with arrangements for the ceremony that she’d not had time to worry and had fallen asleep, exhausted—but at peace with the decision.
The chapel had been rebuilt centuries before with small windows, so that it could be dark and confining, especially on an overcast morning suchas this one. Mirabel had seen to it that lit candles lined the stone altar and filled the tables along the walls, so that the room glowed with warm, flickering light.
Theirs was a small gathering. Mirabel and her servants served as witnesses.
Neal looked inordinately handsome in black formal dress.
Thea wore a gown of the finest muslin in a pale shade of yellow that she had borrowed from Mirabel’s closet. Her hair had been fashioned on top of her head instead of her customary knot at the base of her neck. Mirabel had wanted to loan Thea her diamond pins. Thea had politely refused and instead had fashioned a tiara of roses from the bush by the estate’s gardens.
Now, as she stood before Reverend Wells, a rather portly man with tufts of hair over his ears, spectacles on his nose, and a strong sense of how important this particular marriage would be in London, Thea pledged her troth to Neal. She spoke the words of the Book of Common Prayer, repeating after Reverend Wells, but the whole time Neal did not look at her.
His stubbornness angered her. He made his vows but did so with the joy of a man facing thegallows. When Mr. Wells announced they were man and wife and could seal their vows with a kiss, Neal barely let his lips touch hers.
And then they were in the dining room, just the reverend, Mirabel, and themselves for the wedding meal.
Neal seemed to relax. He was charming, thoughtful, entertaining, but distant to Thea.
At last she could take his bewildering behavior no longer.
“Reverend Wells, does the church still perform exorcisms?” she asked.
Now she had Lyon’s attention.
The good reverend apparently dearly adored having his opinion requested on ecclesiastical matters. He pushed up his spectacles in a scholarly fashion and launched into his esteemed opinion. “The church has a rite, but it is not called upon often. I have not been a party to any, and I daresay the bishop hasn’t either, although the devil is amongst us.”
For a second, the air in the room seemed to shift as if clouds had covered the sun, blocking its rays from the window before drifting away ... except this day was not a sunny day.
Or was she being unusually fanciful? “How would one remove the devil?” Thea pressed on.
“Is this really a good conversation for a wedding feast?” Lyon said quietly.