His Wicked Seduction novel Chapter 75

Anne Chessley always seemed to forget how to breathe whenever she was near Viscount Sheridan. With short breaths she watched him walk down the aisle in St. George's. Light pierced the stained glass at the front of the church, showering a rainbow of colors onto the altar and the people gathered in the pews.

Miss Sheridan and her brother moved arm in arm down the aisle. His free hand gripped a cane that he swept over the floor ahead of them. Music echoed off the walls and floated to the ceiling in a roar of wondrous sound. At the front of the church, near the altar, the Marquess of Rochester waited to receive his bride.

A wedding of the ages. A rake reformed-or so the Quizzing Glass had reported-and a quiet, beautiful woman, blossoming with love. Anne felt a little ache in her chest as she wished to be so fortunate.

All too soon her attention was pulled back to Cedric. Even thinking of him made her so happy. Yet sadness lingered at the edges of her joy like shadows. Cedric's dark eyes roved over the crowds, unseeing. Anne fisted her fingers in her handkerchief.

Blind. The man she'd spent many dreams with during the night was blind.

Her father leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Brave man, that Sheridan. Always liked him before, but now, well, he's damned courageous."

Anne agreed. She closed her eyes, wondering if she would be as brave as him to walk down the aisle without being able to see?

No. The very thought of it terrified her. To be that helpless...that dependent. How did he bear it? She wasn't that brave. Cedric had no choice. He had to face that eternal darkness every second of every hour of every day. A shudder wracked her body and she moved closer to her father. He put an arm around her shoulders. He was such a good man, a good father.

Anne knew how lucky she was to have him. Her mother had died so long ago, but her death hadn't broken him. He'd doubled his love for Anne and they had become inseparable. It was a good thing she never intended to marry. She could not bear the thought of leaving her poor papa alone.

Her eyes found Cedric again, unable to look away from him for long. She adored the way he offered his sister a sheepish smile and kissed her cheek before stepping back to allow her to join Lord Rochester. Lord Lennox stepped up from the front pew, whispered something to Cedric and then with a guiding hand, helped him find his way back to his pew to sit.

The sight moved Anne. The League of Rogues had always fascinated her with their scandalous ways, but what she admired was their kindness towards each other. Like a large family. She only wished she could be a part of it. Alas, that path was not for her. She wasn't like Emily, the Duchess of Essex or Horatia, the soon-to-be Lady Rochester.

The ceremony itself was a blur for Anne. Instead she had focused on Cedric. The way his chestnut hair was a tad too long and curled at the ends. He was so handsome to look at, and yet somehow his personality, even his soul, came out through his expressions as well.

Cedric was different. There was a warmth to his smiles. The faint laugh lines around his eyes and mouth would crinkle when he grinned and laughed. Watching him, adoring him, knowing he would never belong to her was bittersweet. It was rather like stumbling upon a painting in a secret gallery. She could look, admire, love from afar but never step through the painted canvas into that world.

If only you were mine, Cedric. If only I was yours...

Cedric leaned against the railing of the last wooden pew at the back of the church, speaking with the final guests as they trickled out and onto the steps outside. Lucien and Horatia had already gone on ahead in a carriage to Lucien's townhouse to prepare for the wedding breakfast.

A chasm opened up in Cedric's chest at the thought of returning home to find Horatia's empty bedchamber. It would be just Audrey and him for now...and Mittens of course. The poor old cat missed her littermate Muff terribly. The first few weeks following his death she wandered the house at all hours, crying, yet never heard Muff's answering call.

After a month she'd given up and taken to stalking Cedric at night, finding him wherever he was and eventually settled down to sleep, whether it was his bed, a settee in the parlor or elsewhere. At first he'd hated her direct attentions, especially the way she'd pounce on him without warning, claws digging into him as she kneaded herself into a blissful state of contentedness. But once he'd grown used to Mittens' impromptu nightly appearances he'd settled in with her and relished the warmth of her small body and the steady purr she made. The sound was perhaps the most comforting aspect of the arrangement. It reassured him that nothing loomed out of the darkness to harm him when he could not see it. His enemies would have no chance of sneaking up on him, not while Mittens manned her post.

Audrey slipped her hand in his, pulling his attention back to their guests.

"Lord Chessley! Anne!" Audrey greeted eagerly.

"Miss Sheridan." Lord Chessley's deep baritone voice was full of amusement. "For now you are indeed Miss Sheridan, since your sister is now married. What a lovely ceremony, wasn't it? Anne and I were thankful you thought to invite us."

"Of course!" Audrey replied without hesitation.

"Yes, we were very happy to come," Anne said.