Free Claiming Her Innocence by Ava Sinclair Page A

tonight?” Betsy stepped back. “No husband could ask for a more beautiful bride.” She turned Penelope toward the mirror as she spoke.
    The woman reflected back at her was the perfect combination of allure and innocence. The long white gown was of an elegant design, but simple. The skirt was full, but shot through with silver threads. The bodice was edged in delicate lace.
    “I wish you could be there,” Penelope said.
    “It’s not for a maid to be at a lady’s wedding,” Betsy said. “I’ll be here to help you change for your special night.”
    “Well, even if you can’t be at my wedding,” Penelope said, “one day I will be sure to be at yours.”
    “You’ll have a long wait.” Betsy offered a sad smile. “Girls like me aren’t the kind men propose to, m’lady. We’re just the ones they lay with until something better comes along.”
    “So there’s no one you fancy?” Lady Penelope suddenly felt sad for her friend, and sadder still at the answer.
    “Just one. Tom, the valet… the one you saw with me that day. I’ve long loved him in secret. But at some point he’ll find a proper girl to marry and I’ll just have to love him from afar. I love men, but not married ones.”
    Penelope took the maid’s hands in hers. “Don’t give up on yourself, Betsy,” she said. “Lord Westcott certainly seems to prize passion in a woman. Any man would be lucky to have you.” She paused. “Oh, dear, happy endings should be for everyone.”
    “That’s a lovely thought,” the maid said. “But today, we’re going to focus on yours. Now let’s get you into this wrap. It’s chill out.”
    The two women hugged, and Betsy helped Penelope into her furs.
    It was Lord Lennox who arrived at his daughter’s door to escort her from the house. Christmas Eve had dawned gray and cold, but the slate sky made the green of the trees and the white of the snow all the more brilliant by contrast. The runners of the sleigh glided across the packed snow as the harness bells on the horse jingled merrily. Penelope’s nose and cheeks stung with cold, but the rest of her was flushed with the warmth of happy expectation. It was her wedding day; after a lifetime of not knowing love, she was not only marrying, but marrying a man she had grown to love.
    The windows of the Westcott estate’s stone chapel seemed to beckon them with a golden light. The edges of the pews were festooned with bay greenery and red bows. Outside, dusk was fast approaching, and the soft glow of candles illuminated the altar where Alton Westcott waited for his bride.
    The wedding would be small and intimate as befitted a private gentleman whose one large social event of the year had already taken place.
    “The smaller the wedding, the sooner I can have you back home in my bed,” he’d told her, and Penelope had blushed happily at the memory of that conversation. She was ready for her wedding night, and as she stood exchanging vows with her handsome lord, she marveled at how he’d opened not just her eyes, but her heart.
    The look of pride on his face as she walked up the aisle just affirmed that she was not just on the path to happiness but one that had perhaps been meant for her. When Penelope placed her small hand in her Lord Westcott’s large one, she was again reminded of his strength, his protection. He was all to her now, and it was with the conviction born of certainty that she turned her eyes on the priest as he prepared to have the couple recite their vows.
    “I do,” were words spoken with conviction from both, and it was with pride that she faced the small gathering as Lady Penelope Westcott.

Chapter Nine: Lady Westcott’s Gift
     
     
    All brides were nervous. Penelope knew this as she sat in her diaphanous nightgown waiting for her husband to fetch her. Would her innocence disappoint him? She sought to remind herself of Betsy’s advice.
    “If he’d wanted those women, he’d have married one,” the maid had said. “But he