X. – Before Dawn

In the grayness that precedes the dawn, Yvonne stood on the steps of the church, gazing in dazed sort of way at the thin, pale line of the horizon. She pulled her velvet and satin cloak about her more securely; it was chilly and damp, and she felt exhausted and drained. Beside her, Lady Ffoulkes stood silently, watching her closely; while further up the steps, at the great oaken doors, Anthony and Sir Andrew Ffoulkes and Sir Percy Blakeney, with Marguerite, were all speaking in low voices.

Suzanne suddenly touched her arm, and Yvonne started and slowly turned to look at her with almost unfocused eyes.

"He loves you so dearly," her friend said softly, encouragingly. "He will never fail you. I know he will not."

She nodded to show that she had understood, and just another moment later, her new husband touched her other arm. He looked as tired as she felt, but he gave her a timid, shy smile and gestured wordlessly to a coach that was waiting on the deserted street. Yvonne nodded once more, and allowed him lead her to it.

As Anthony opened the door to help her in, Marguerite appeared beside her to wish her well. Behind her stood Sir Percy, towering over them all on the third step up to the church, like a huge monolith that seemed entirely out of place. Perhaps it was the way the dim light fell, but he did not look quite as foppish and languid and silly as he usually did, just now. Yvonne vaguely wondered why. The man was notorious for being the most idiotic dandy in all of England. Why, then, should there be a sudden difference?

She had little time to dwell on it, however. Marguerite leaned forward and kissed her cheek, whispering, "Godspeed, chéri. And do not worry about your father. Think only that you are safe, now."

The lady moved aside and Sir Percy then came down the remaining steps, lifted Yvonne's cold fingers to his equally chilly lips, and added in a low voice, "The Duc will move beyond the shock soon enough, I daresay."

His normally lazy blue eyes sparkled in the darkness, and Yvonne was momentarily transfixed in a fleeting state of confusion.

Perhaps she was simply overwrought. Perhaps it didn't matter. Anthony was now assisting her into the carriage anyways, and she trembled nervously as she climbed inside and settled into her seat quietly, while her husband clamored in after her. Then the door clicked shut and Sir Percy had signaled the driver before Yvonne had a chance to put the pieces of the puzzle together in correct order.

Besides, she had more important things to think of then Sir Percy's eyes. As their coach rumbled forward, she gazed shyly across the dark, plush, warm interior at her husband's solid outline, and as soon as they had rounded the first turn, he instantly moved to sit beside her. She tensed at first, but she was also so grateful to have his strong arm slide lovingly about her shoulders, so overjoyed despite her fear and worry, that she sank against his chest and close her eyes, sighed heavily, and snuggled closer.

Anthony tightened his hold on her – not crushing, but just deliciously perfect.

"Nothing can harm you now, my darling. Nothing," he whispered.

She easily believed him as his cheek rested against her hair, and they both slipped into a fitful, drowsy sleep.