Lady Ines Scandalous Hobby-Chapter 162 - Hundred And Sixty Two

The Chapel was a masterpiece of stone and light. Sunlight poured through the high stained-glass windows, painting the stone floor in pools of red, blue, and gold. The air was cool and smelled of beeswax candles and the thousands of white lilies that decorated every pew and pillar.

The organ music swelled. It was a deep, resonant sound that vibrated in the chest of every guest.

The pews were packed. The cream of society sat in hushed anticipation. Lords in their finest coats adjusted their cravats. Ladies in pastel silks fanned themselves gently, their eyes fixed on the heavy oak doors at the back of the chapel.

At the front, standing before the altar, was Carcel, the Duke of Carleton.

He stood tall and still, but inside, his heart was drumming a frantic rhythm. He wore a black velvet coat that fit his broad shoulders perfectly, a white silk waistcoat, and the amethyst tie pin that matched the necklace he had given his bride. His hands were clasped behind his back, hiding the slight tremor in his fingers.

He stared at the doors. He didn’t blink. He felt like he had been waiting for this moment not just for a month, but for his entire life.

"Breathe, Your Grace," his aide, Lloyd, whispered from beside him.

"I am breathing," Carcel replied, though he wasn’t sure if he actually was.

Then, the music changed. The deep, rumbling notes shifted into a bright, soaring melody.

The heavy oak doors groaned and swung open.

The guests stood up. The rustle of fabric filled the room like a wave.

In the doorway, framed by the bright sunlight of the afternoon, stood Ines.

She was a vision in cream silk. The long train of her mother’s dress flowed behind her like a river of pearls. The lace veil covered her face, but through the sheer fabric, Carcel could see the sparkle of her eyes. She held a bouquet of white roses and purple lilacs, her knuckles white as she gripped them.

Beside her stood Rowan. Her brother looked enormous in his formal wear. He stood like a mountain, solid and proud. He offered his arm to Ines.

"Ready?" Rowan whispered to her.

Ines looked up at him through her veil.

"Ready."

She took his arm.

They began to walk.

The walk down the aisle felt like a dream. Ines saw the blur of faces—friends, family, the curious ton. She saw the Queen sitting in the front row, giving a small, majestic nod of approval.

But Ines’s eyes were locked on one person.

Carcel.

He watched her come toward him. His breath caught in his throat. He had never seen anything so beautiful. The sunlight caught the amethyst necklace at her throat, making it glow like a purple star. She looked regal. She looked like his future.

He was mesmerized. He forgot about the guests. He forgot about the title. He only saw the woman who had nursed him through a fever, the woman who had outsmarted a villain, the woman who wrote stories in the dark.

Rowan walked her all the way to the steps of the altar. He stopped. He patted Ines’s hand one last time. It was a silent goodbye to the little sister he had protected for so long.

Carcel stepped forward. He walked down one step to meet them.

Rowan looked at Carcel. He narrowed his eyes slightly, a playful but serious warning between men.

"Take care of her," Rowan said, his voice low and gruff. "Or I will take her back."

"With my life," Carcel vowed.

Rowan nodded. He took Ines’s hand and placed it gently into Carcel’s.

The moment their skin touched, a spark went through Ines. Carcel’s hand was warm and large. He gripped her fingers firmly, an anchor in the storm of emotion.

Rowan stepped back. He walked to the front pew on the left side. He sat down next to his aunt.

Ines turned her head slightly to the right. She looked at the pew behind the family section.

There, sitting in the second row, was Edith. She was wiping her eyes with a handkerchief, smiling broadly.

And next to Edith was Gladys.

Gladys looked healthy. Her cheeks were pink. She wore a lovely yellow dress that Ines had bought for her. When she saw Ines looking, Gladys gave a small, shy wave.

Ines felt a rush of pure joy. Everyone was safe. Everyone was here. The nightmare of the past months was truly over.

Carcel also caught sight of Vance at the back of the congregation who tipped his hat in respect.

Ines turned back to face Carcel.

He squeezed her hand. She looked up at him through the veil. He smiled, a soft, intimate smile just for her.

They walked up the steps together to stand before the priest.

The priest was an old man with kind eyes and a deep, booming voice. He opened his large book.

"Dearly beloved," the priest began, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "We are gathered here today, in the sight of God and this company, to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony."

The words flowed over them. Ines listened, but she was more focused on the thumb that was gently stroking the back of her hand.

"Marriage is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly," the priest continued. "But reverently, discreetly, and soberly."

Carcel looked at Ines. There was nothing sober about the look in his eyes. It was a look of intoxicating love.

The priest looked at Carcel.

"My Lord Duke, do you have your vows?"

Carcel nodded. "I do."

He turned fully toward Ines. He took both of her hands in his. The chapel went silent. Even the birds outside seemed to stop singing to listen.

Carcel took a deep breath. He didn’t look at a piece of paper. He spoke from his heart.

"Ines," Carcel began. His voice was steady and clear, reaching the back of the room.

"For a long time, I thought my life was about duty. I thought it was about managing estates and serving the Crown. My world was black and white, ordered and cold."

He stepped a little closer.

"Then, you walked into it," Carcel said. "You brought color. You brought stories. You showed me that a person can be strong and soft at the same time."

Ines felt tears prick her eyes behind the veil.

"I vow to you today," Carcel continued, his eyes intense, "not just to be your husband, but to be your partner. I vow to protect you when the world is harsh. I vow to listen to you when you speak, and to read every word you write."

A few guests gasped softly at the reference to her writing, unknowingly finding it terribly romantic.

"I love the ink on your fingers," Carcel whispered, loud enough only for her to hear. "I love the fire in your spirit. And I love the peace you bring to my heart."

He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

"I give you my name, my home, and my heart. From this day until my last breath, I am yours."

Ines let out a shaky breath. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

"Ines?" the priest prompted gently.

Ines cleared her throat. Her voice was softer than Carcel’s, but it was filled with conviction.

"Carcel," she said. "You are my shelter. When the storm came, you did not run. You stood by me. You fought for me."

She squeezed his hands.

"I vow to stand by you in return," Ines said. "I vow to fill your home with laughter and your life with love. I promise to be your courage when you are afraid, and your rest when you are weary. I choose you. Today, and every day."

The priest smiled. He gestured to Lloyd.

"The rings, please."

Lloyd stepped forward and handed Carcel a simple, heavy gold band.

Carcel took Ines’s left hand. He slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly. It felt heavy and real.

"With this ring," Carcel said, "I thee wed."

Ines took the other ring—a thicker band of gold—and slid it onto Carcel’s finger. His hand was steady.

"With this ring," Ines said, "I thee wed."

The priest closed his book with a satisfying thud. He raised his hand in blessing.

"Those whom God has joined together, let no man put asunder," the priest declared.

He looked at the couple with a twinkle in his eye.

"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

He nodded to Carcel. "You may kiss the bride."

Carcel didn’t wait.

He reached up with both hands. Slowly, reverently, he lifted the lace veil. He folded it back over Ines’s head.

The sunlight hit her face. She was glowing. Her eyes were wet with happy tears, and her lips were curved into a radiant smile.

Carcel framed her face with his hands. He looked at her as if she were the only person in the world.

"Hello, wife," he whispered.

"Hello, husband," she whispered back.

He leaned down.

He kissed her.

It was tender and deep. It tasted of joy and relief. Ines wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, forgetting the crowd, forgetting the decorum.

For a moment, time stopped.

Then, the chapel erupted.

The applause started in the front row with Rowan, who clapped so hard it sounded like thunder. Then Edith joined in, then Gladys, then the Queen, and finally the entire congregation.

The sound of cheering filled the stone space, rising up to the rafters.

Carcel broke the kiss, but he didn’t let go of her. He rested his forehead against hers, grinning.

"We did it," he said.

Ines laughed, a sound of pure freedom.

"We did," she agreed.

They turned to face the crowd, hand in hand, ready to walk back down the aisle not as two people but as one.