St. Stephen Walbrook Church was one of the architect Christopher Wren’s masterpieces. It was marvel of stone Corinthian columns, dark wainscoting, and plasterwork. The dome over the altar was said to be Wren’s original design for St. Paul’s. The architect had been the genius behind rebuilding both churches after the Great Fire. The sunlight from a fine autumn day poured in through high windows that mimicked the arch of the dome and caught on the dust motes in the air scented with hint of holy incense.

It was a good place to marry and Matt was pleased. Indeed, he was now firmly convinced this marriage was a grand idea.

An acolyte was lighting candles around the altar. Close by, Soren, Lord Dewsberry, spoke to a man to who appeared to be the minister. Matt had not doubted that Soren would be here. He’d known he could count on him. Cassandra sat in the front pew on the left side. She waved at Matt.

With Minerva on his arm, Matt walked toward his friend. “What is Lord Dewsberry doing here?” Minerva asked in a low undertone.

“He is to be my groomsman.”

Minerva dug her heels. “Your groomsman? He can’t be. Your groomsman should be a bachelor. Everyone knows that.”

“I don’t know any bachelors—”

“Of course you do,” Minerva snapped. She had turned so that her back was to Soren, who had started toward them. He had taken Cassandra’s arm to come greet him, with the minister following in their steps. The small party wisely stopped when they sensed trouble. “You have cousins who are bachelors and fitting for the role,” Minerva said.

“—whom I trust,” Matt finished, praying Soren couldn’t overhear them. “Dewsberry is my choice. He’s a man I can count on.”

“He’s married. This is in defiance of all the rules.”

“Grandmother,” Matt chided, wanting her to cease harping, “who are we to worry about rules? I am Camberly.”

“That doesn’t mean you can defy tradition. You are most fortunate I thought to procure a ring because you hadn’t made any plans . . .” Her voice trailed off. She looked past him. Matt heard soft steps on the stone floor.

He turned, expecting to see his bride and her parents. Instead, his two oldest sisters, Alice and Kate, entered the sanctuary.

Matt raced to them. They were dressed in their best, heavy muslins with patterns on the fabric and fringed shawls. They had decorated their bonnets themselves. He knew because as a lad he’d watched them gathered around a table sewing on bows, fabric, and pheasant feathers.

All his sisters were tall, with Kate being the tallest. She was an actress, as their mother had been. She was a year younger than Alice. They were both bold and lovely women. Alice’s soft brown hair had streaks of gray, but Kate’s was still as black as when she was twenty. Matt was certain Kate knew a trick or two to keep herself young and would use them. Whereas Alice didn’t worry about such things.

Kate had founded a small traveling theater company, quite a challenge for a woman alone. She was still single and doted on her nieces and nephews, as had Matt until the title had drawn him away.

The moment he reached them, Matt spread his arms wide and gave them both a hug. He’d not seen them since well before their grandfather’s death. They had not been invited to the funeral. But he had specifically ordered they receive an invitation to his wedding. He’d done at least that much.

“I’m so glad you are here,” he said. “It’s been too long.”

“We had to see our brother marry,” Alice said, righting her bonnet, which Matt’s hug had knocked to one side. “Although I will tell you Roland has his hands full with the shop and the children.” Alice and her husband were chemists in Cambridge.

“Besides,” Kate said, “the family needs to look over this woman you are bringing into it.” Her eyes went over to their grandmother, who still stood right where Matt had left her, quite obviously looking down her nose at his sisters. “You know how we abhor riffraff,” Kate finished, indicating the dowager with a tilt of her head.

“I’m sorry, Kate,” Matt said. It was all he could say. Henry and Minerva’s disapproval was a heavy weight. He knew. Even though they had reluctantly supported his education after his parents’ deaths, and with Alice’s prodding, they had made him feel unworthy of their concern. That is, until William’s death. Once Matt became the heir, their attitudes had changed—but they had never extended any interest or concern toward his sisters.

“She is a troll,” Kate said of their grandmother.

“Kate,” Alice prodded.

“Do you have better description?” Kate challenged her sister.

“I don’t waste my time with resentment.”

“I do. It keeps me happy,” Kate answered.

Matt changed the subject. “Jenny and Amanda couldn’t come?”

“They are both breeding,” Kate said.

“The midwife believes Amanda is having twins,” Alice informed him. “She swears she can hear two heartbeats. They are due in two months. She is miserable and is making Robert miserable as well.” Robert was a Cambridge tutor. He’d been trying to help Matt find a place on the staff when his grandparents had called him to London.

“Jenny is at the beginning of her term, but you know she hates to leave Marlin, and they don’t have the money for a trip to London.”

“But I offered to pay for your trips,” Matt said. “Even Marlin’s and Roland’s and the children. And I insisted that you stay with me. There is room for twenty in the London house.”

His sisters exchanged a look, one that made him pause. “You received an invitation for the ceremony and the breakfast, didn’t you? I instructed Minerva’s secretary to be certain your names were added to the guest list. I told her to write and let you know that you were welcome under my roof.” He realized even as he spoke that he should have done it himself. He’d given the order to Minerva’s secretary because he’d not spared the funds to hire his own man of business . . . but letters to his sisters? He should have written those.

“Oh, my,” Kate said, her eyes rounding with innocence as she saw that Matt was beginning to understand his request had been countermanded, “we were left off the list again .” She scowled in Minerva’s direction before confessing, “I read the announcement in the papers. I contacted the others.”

“And you received no invitation?”

Alice shook her head.

Matt could have throttled his grandmother. But then, his sisters were his family. He’d failed them. “I’m sorry, I should have seen to the matter.” Instead he’d buried himself away with hurt pride, self-pity, and frustration.

“It doesn’t matter,” Alice decreed, and then she straightened her shoulders. “Actually, we are here to ensure the dowager—”

“The troll,” Kate corrected, liking the name for Minerva that she’d coined.

“—isn’t forcing you into a disastrous match over money. Truly, Matt, I don’t know how our grandfather could have lost a fortune, but I will not see your future sacrificed for their mistakes.”

“How do you know about the state of my affairs?” Matt asked, his gaze narrowing.

“Everyone knows,” Alice said gently. “Even out in the country.”

“We also know that you’re marrying for money, and that isn’t right, Matt. It isn’t,” Kate insisted. She placed her hand on his arm. “In our family, we marry for love. Just as Mother and Father did. I could have married for money. There has been many a rich old codger who has wanted to climb my bones—”

“Keep your voice down. We are in church, Kate,” Alice said.

“There isn’t anything I could say here that hasn’t been said from any pulpit,” Kate answered. “And Matt’s happiness is at stake.” She picked up the threads of her point. “Father would be disappointed to know you are selling yourself for his outdated aristocratic family who can’t manage their affairs.”

“It is a bit more complicated than that, Kate,” Matt said.

His sister rolled her eyes. “Please, Matthew, we know the old duke was foolish with his money. Remember the stories Father told about how the old duke would spend a fortune on a special mash for his horses but couldn’t be bothered to buy seed for his cottagers when the crops failed, or support the village school?” She frowned, lifting a suspicious brow. “Or have you become that sort of duke? Are you taking care of your people?”

He held up a hand. He wasn’t going to go into the tale of blackmail with Kate, or justify his actions to date. “I’m trying to do what is right. Hopefully it will be the right thing for all of you. I will soon be able to help pay for education for my nieces and nephews. I can help support your troupe, Kate—”

“I don’t need help.”

“As you say, but if you do, I’m there.”

“Yes, like you have been ever since Henry and Minerva decided you were second best but will have to do,” Kate fired back.

“They have always been that way,” Matt answered. “However, I’ve held my own.” That wasn’t completely true.

“But are you also doing what is right for you?” Alice pressed. “Marriage is too hard to live it with a stranger.”

“And love isn’t all they claim it to be, either,” Matt flashed back. He kept his voice low, drawing his sisters closer. “However, whatever you think, I have made my decision. Besides, love isn’t some panacea for everything. It won’t buy seed or pay for the village school. And I will tell you something else, I’m better off without it.”

Because, he realized, he loved too deeply. That was what had happened between him and Letty. He could see it clearly now. This lore in his family that love reigned supreme had given him flawed expectations, expectations that had almost gutted him.

He was happy his wayward heart didn’t feel love for his soon-to-be bride. There would be no more disappointments in his life—

The entrance door flew open and was caught by a liveried footman. Leland Reverly marched into the church with his customary swagger.

“Good morning, Your Grace,” Reverly barked out heartily. “A great day for a wedding, isn’t it?” His wife followed him. She was dressed in purple, a rich shade tinged with red and not at all like his grandmother’s lavender gown, and yet, for some reason, Matt sensed she wore it for mourning. Certainly, her expression lacked her husband’s satisfaction.

And then all conscious thought left Matt’s mind, as Willa’s petite figure followed her mother into the sanctuary. She had her head down as she tried to keep her skirts from brushing the door but then she looked up, and suddenly stopped at the sight of Matt.

A beautiful woman could capture any man’s attention, but there was something unique and special beyond the mere physical about Willa.

Her hair was piled high on her head, with a few artless strands curling down to her shoulders. The dress was an ethereal white that brought a glow to her skin. Her dark blue eyes met his. Her lips parted, and he almost took a step forward, wanting to touch her to see if she was real.

He opened and closed his gloved fingers. She wore pearl-tipped pins in her hair. He had an urge to pull them from her curls and watch her hair tumble down around her.

And this night, his wedding night, he would.

Ever since his grandparents had plucked him out of the obscurity of being a lowly tutor, he’d made a muddle of things. But here was a new beginning. For the title, for his family, including all those unborn nieces and nephews . . . and for himself.

Behind him, he heard Kate say to Alice, “Well, apparently we didn’t need to be concerned after all.”