Free The Hawk and the Dove by Virginia Henley

all four of her half sisters and two of her hateful female cousins were below to witness his arrival. She tried to be patient while she awaited her summons, but patience wasn’t in Sabre’s nature. She was breathless to race downstairs and come face-to-face with her future, her fate.
    Matthew Hawkhurst found the situation disconcerting, to say the least. He managed his introductions well enough, but realized almost immediately that Jacob Goldman had not prepared them for a proxy wedding. The damned coward, thought Matthew with disgust, but he understood Goldman’s reluctance when he’d had a chance to size up Reverend Bishop.
    As well as Mrs. Bishop there were six young women present and Matthew could not discern which one was the bride, for they all seemed avid for details of the unusual proxy arrangement. He explained firmly that circumstances made it impossible for his brother to be there in person to exchange vows, and he was acting as proxy. He glanced about the room, uncomfortable to be making excuses and explanations in front of the whole family, but to his surprise each girl looked suspiciously happy.
    “Under the circumstances it will be inappropriate for the lavish church wedding and reception we had planned.I will dispatch messages immediately, canceling the affair,” said the reverend with deference to the wealthy Hawkhurst, yet still needing to control the situation. “Since it will require only a legal, civil ceremony it can be done in the privacy of my study.”
    Relieved, Matthew nodded his agreement and glanced again at the young women to see if he could identify the bride. He was shocked to see them exchanging gleeful glances and laughing behind their hands. Only Mrs. Bishop looked unhappy and confused.
    “I think we had better have Sara down and explain matters to her,” the reverend said calmly.
    Mrs. Smite, who had hovered behind the door long enough to hear most of what was transpiring, was dispatched for Sara. The iron-faced woman gave her a sly smile and muttered something about “comeuppance,” but Sabre was in such a rosy glow, she almost apologized to the woman for calling her “Mrs. Spite.”
    She ran lightly down the stairs and along the center hallway, her steps only slowing with sudden shyness when she reached the archway to the elegant drawing room.
    Matthew was stunned. His first thought was that his brother had gulled him, pretending not to know her. This bride had been chosen with more care than he had taken in selecting an entire crew for one of his beloved ships. She was so breathtakingly, heartstoppingly lovely. From across the room she lifted her heart-shaped face to him and their eyes met before she swept her lashes to her cheeks. They were pale green pools in which a man might drown … willingly. She approached him and sank into a graceful curtsy, and barely above a whisper she breathed, “Mr. Hawkhurst.”
    He cleared his throat and replied,
“Matthew
Hawkhurst, your betrothed’s brother, Mistress Bishop.”
    Her face fell and he could have kicked himself for wiping the beautiful, expectant smile from it. Clearly she was disappointed that he was not to be the groom, and in that moment, so was he. However, it told him that without a doubt she had never met his brother.
    He clasped her hand and raised her from her curtsy. “Mistress Bishop, I am here as proxy for my brother. I am to give his responses in the marriage service. It was impossible for him to leave court at the moment.”
    Her body went stiff and her eyes widened in shock and disbelief. This couldn’t be happening to her! The bridegroom she had flaunted and bragged about couldn’t even be bothered to show up for the wedding! She was aware of eight pairs of gloating female eyes at her back and a shameful blush crept up her throat and suffused her cheeks. She was utterly devastated.
    Matthew strove to fill the awful silence. “My ship is anchored in the Severn. It will be my honor to give you safe escort,