Her Sister's Fiancé - Book #1

Chapter 21

A leaf drifted lazily to the ground, joining its color-ridden mates in dancing in the breeze. The world was decked in its finest autumn colors as though it were putting on a show for only the very best dressed; it was almost as if it had in its possession a secret of the happiest kind.

The russet and blush colored leaves descended in joyous flutter, gone were the newborn spring days, gone was the heat of summer. Autumn had come in its full glory, and every living thing seemed to know it. The grains were being harvested, and groups of merry schoolchildren left their school desk in the afternoon to search for the sweetest apples and the roundest, orangest pumpkins.

Best of all was the little parish church just beyond bustling London where the view was not obscured by tall, noisy buildings, and the atmosphere was not disturbed by businessmen hurrying about the streets. The church itself remained unchanged, but the aisles and pews and the arching doorway had been decorated in the most lovely flowers. Red roses, white carnations, little sprigs of sweet baby's breath, and bunches of enormous peonies had been tied here and there about the little building, giving it the sweetest of aromas and the most elegant appearance. Not only was the church beautiful, but there was a certain scent of romance in the air that betrayed the reason for the decorations.

From the road, one could see clearly that something of importance was going to happen. Many busy people paused in their hurried movements to admire the little church, and the gossips walked by, shaking their heads and wagging their tongues about the marriage that was to take place. It was rumored that Lord Antrucha was giving his younger daughter in marriage to the lately disinherited Ethan Brodi who had but a few months before been destined to marry the elder sister. More than this, there was an odd rumor going about that Lady Cassandra was no longer interested in her society friends and had taken to going on long walks in the company of her sister and helping decorate for the coming nuptials.

Whether any of this was true or not, no one was really sure. Lady Cassandra certainly didn't seem brokenhearted, but she had been jilted, everyone knew that. Something strange had happened, and no one could quite put their finger on what it was. Kitty Morgan said she had seen the whole thing in the church, and she was disgusted and embarrassed with the Antruchas. She refused to call at the big manor, and whenever she saw her late friend, Cassandra, she would quickly turn the other way or cross the street to make sure they didn't meet. In fact, many 'finer bred' folk were doing the same. It wasn't proper to be in the company of a young woman who had caused such scandal, they said, and it would be best to keep themselves and their daughters out of the reach of the snaring fingers of impropriety.

It had been five months since the great wedding had been called off, and very little had been seen of young Ethan Brodi. He had called at the Manor a few times and then disappeared altogether. Some said he had gone back to Scotland to stay, and there would be no wedding at all, but that gave no explanation to the decorations and the wedding trousseau ordered for Lady Lavinia. Despite this mystery, many were adamant that Ethan Brodi was gone for good, so they would have been quite shocked and startled to see him cantering his big horse up the road that morning, his eyes fastened to the church, a faint smile on his face.

Yes, Ethan was back, finally. He wanted desperately to lash the beautiful stallion into a run that would carry him to Antrucha Manor in but a few moments, but he forced himself to continue as before. He wanted to savor every moment of this anticipation, and he wanted to take in every change the countryside had undergone since his departure.

The change was not all in the landscape; he had changed since the last time he'd been in London. His face was slightly thinner, and there were faint wrinkles at the corners of his eyes from constant smiling. His chin was covered in a short length of beard, and his hair was several inches longer. There was a certain wild look about him, but not in a bad way. He looked tousled and loose, easygoing, and it was a look that suited him. He had never been one of those men who melted women's hearts without saying a word, but now, as he rode along, many a feminine eye turned in his direction.