Page 78 of The Botanist’s Improper Bride

But when they arrived and were shown into a drawing room, it took less than a minute to realize that Seraphina wasn’t simply upset, she was furious.

“I want to ruin him,” she declared, her eyes burning with intensity as she stomped up and down the length of the room. “That man is a… a slug. A slimy pustule of a person, and he doesn’t deserve the respect he gets. I want to tarnish him the way he’s threatening to do to me.”

“He’s terrible,” Letitia agreed, her lip curled with something that resembled amusement.

Seraphina thrust a letter at Trevor. “Look at the audacity of the man. Offering to protect me from a rumor he started himself.”

He read the letter, which used a great number of pretty words to circle around an unpleasant request without ever actually asking directly.

“I’m frightened what might happen if he continues,” Seraphina added, pushing her hair back from her face. “It’s one thing for him to attack my character, but if he manages to stop me from making quinine, people might die. It’s unacceptable.”

Trevor found himself grinning at her like a loon, his heart warm. Even when she had every right to be scared, she worried about other people—and he couldn’t deny that he liked her vengeful side.

“Sera.”

She stopped pacing and turned to him.

He withdrew the papers from his coat pocket. “I have a special license. Will you marry me? Today?”

“You… what?” Her dark blue eyes brightened until they shone like gems. “I beg your pardon?”

He showed her the papers. “We can get married right now, if you’d like.”

Her mouth opened and then closed. A blinding smile overtook her face and she threw herself into his arms. He stumbled back, catching her with one arm while securing the papers with the other.

“You’re brilliant!” she cried, squeezing him tight before pulling back and kissing his cheek. “Yes, I’ll marry you, you wonderful man.”

“Right now?” he asked, eager to have it done.

She looked to the side, frowning as she thought. “In an hour. My dress is ready to be collected from the modiste. We can send someone to get it and then marry before anyone can stop us.”

Letitia clapped, looking just as delighted as Sylvestor. “This is so exciting!”

“I know,” Sylvestor exclaimed. “It’s a pity Marianne isn’t here. She’s going to be sorry she missed it.”

Marianne was Trevor’s cousin—Sylvestor’s wife. Trevor almost suggested he go and get her, but the more people who knew about this, the more likely the wrong person would find out, and they needed to keep it quiet until the deed was done.

“I’ll have someone pick up the dress,” Letitia said, then summoned a servant and spoke with them quietly. She turned to Trevor. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

He hesitated. Her expression said that he ought to reconsider his answer. “Mother ordered wedding attire. I’ll dash home and change.”

She nodded firmly. “Good. This might be an elopement of sorts, but Seraphina deserves the best.”

She was quite right, so he didn’t argue.

An hour later, he returned, clad in his wedding suit. He’d had to ask Sylvestor to help him with the cravat, since he couldn’t request assistance from his valet or else his mother would hear about it within minutes. As it was, he suspected that at least some servants must have seen him as he snuck out the back of the house. Hopefully, none of them would realize that the clothing he wore was intended for his wedding.

He tapped his fingers against his thighs and tried to recall the logic puzzle he’d been working on most recently as he waited for Seraphina to emerge from the carriage. Letitia hadn’t trusted her parents to keep their secret, so she’d insisted that Seraphina couldn’t dress in the house. Instead, Letitia had drawn all the curtains on the carriage and was acting as her maid, which meant that less than a hundred yards away, Seraphina was in a state of undress.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he did his best not to think about creamy skin and silken undergarments.

The carriage door opened, and Letitia’s head appeared around it. “She’s ready. Where are we going?”

“St. Ethelburga’s Church,” Sylvestor said from beside Trevor. “It’s small and out of the way.”

“In that case, we’ll see you there.”

“Wait,” Trevor called, but she’d already pulled the door shut. Drat, that meant he wouldn’t get to talk with Seraphina again until they arrived at the church.