"Pelham—" Mary reached for her intended's arm and turned to the priest. "Father, go on with the ceremony."
"Not until he explains what he means," Pelham balked.
"Liam Kincaid, I'm warning you…"
Lee watched as Mary shoved her right hand into her skirt pocket. He'd seen her make a move to her skirt pocket twice before—and both times she'd withdrawn a deadly little silver two-shot derringer and aimed it at him.
"Not this time, Mary Two-shot!" Lee reacted like a flash. He grabbed hold of Mary's arm and pulled her to his side. He held her around the waist with one arm, in a firm but gentle grip, as he patted her right skirt pocket, searching for the little silver weapon.
"Let go of me," she hissed at him as he moved on to her left side. "I didn't bring it into the church."
Lee pretended to be shocked when in fact, he was more than a bit relieved. "What?" he asked. "Nothing old, nothing new, nothing silver, nothing blue for your wedding?"
"It's at home with my other personal belongings," Mary informed him. "And the rhyme is: something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue."
"What did you do? Pack it in your luggage as a little wedding night surprise for your groom?" Lee asked sarcastically.
"Not at all," she replied sweetly, kicking him in the shin as hard as she could. "I put it in a safe place. You might say I was saving it for a special meeting with a charming rogue like you." Mary hadn't felt it right to bring her gun into church on her wedding day, but after carrying it for protection since she was a girl, she wasn't accustomed to being without it for any length of time either, and had carefully slipped it into the skirt pocket of the traveling suit she intended to wear on her honeymoon.
Lee had sucked in a breath when her foot connected with his leg. He tightened his grip around her waist, ducked his head, and whispered, "So you do find me charming. Oh, Mary-girl, I love it when you whisper sweet nothings in my ear."
Mary shivered at the touch of his warm breath against her neck. She let out a low gasp at the sound of his voice—as smooth and slow and sweet as warm honey—so close to her ear. She leaned back against him, forgetting for the moment everything but the pleasure of simply enjoying the wonderful feel of the strong, warm chest and arms that surrounded her.
"Unhand my bride," Pelham Cosgrove ordered.
As Mary jerked out of his embrace, Lee studied her bridegroom. He supposed the man was handsome in slicked-back, neat and tidy, buttoned-down sort of way. And under other circumstances, he might even have liked him. But not now; not today. He had a mission to complete, and Mary's bridegroom was standing squarely in the way of that objective. "Stay out of it," Lee growled.
"I stay out of it?" Pelham sputtered. "I'm Pelham Everhardt Cosgrove III, and this is my wife."
"Not yet, she isn't," Lee muttered, swinging Mary up into his arms.
"I demand an explanation!" Pelham shouted.
But before Pelham could get his explanation, the front door of the church opened and every head in the church turned to watch Judah Crane limp into the sanctuary with Maddy at his side.
Lee groaned.
"Young man." Judah's voice was thin and reedy as he called to Lee, but strong enough for the sound to reach every nook and cranny of the church's quiet interior. "Did we miss the wedding?"
"No, Judah," Lee answered gently, in spite of the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had arrived at the church some minutes before the slow-moving buggy and had expected Judah and Maddy to wait with Daniel in the vehicle outside the church. "I thought you and Maddy were going to wait in the buggy until I came to get you."
"But we wanted to witness the ceremony. Have we missed it?"
"Not yet. Now, why don't you take Maddy back outside until I come and get you?"
"No!" Maddy's objection was instantaneous. "Want Mama." She pulled her hand out of Judah's, spotted Lee holding Mary in his arms at the end of the center aisle, and ran clumsily toward them. "Mama!"
Mary could only stare in disbelief as the precious little girl toddled up to Lee and grabbed hold of his duster. "Mama! Mama!"
"Do something!" Mary ordered.
Lee all but dropped Mary on the floor in his haste to set her on her feet and reach for the distraught child. "There, there." He wiped at Maddy's tears with the sleeve of his coat. "It's all right now, Maddy darling. Mama's here." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the porcelain-faced doll he had stuffed in there during the train ride from Denver and handed it to the little girl.
"Mine." Madeline grabbed the doll and hugged it close to her body, then reached out for Mary. "Mine," she repeated.
Every pair of eyes in the church turned to stare at Mary. She glanced around at faces of her wedding guests and stepped away from Lee and the child he was holding.
It didn't take a genius to figure out that Maddy's actions had been misinterpreted by just about everybody in the church. Even those people who knew better. But Lee didn't care about the wedding guests or their reactions to Maddy. All he cared about was Mary's reaction, and the reaction of her groom. Lee hadn't intended to use Madeline to sway Mary—unless, of course, there was no other way. But, he decided, little Maddy's arrival was timely and effective. He could look at the faces of the wedding guests and tell that. Lee glanced over at Pelham Cosgrove III. Unless he missed his guess, Mary's groom was about to bow out of the wedding, and that was just fine and dandy as far as Lee was concerned. He was more than ready to step in and relieve him. What wasn't fine was the expression on Mary's face. Lee knew he'd never forget her look of pain, and he was very much afraid he might never get over the feeling of guilt that slammed into his gut when he saw it. Lee knew he ought to try to explain the situation to Cosgrove and try to make things right for Mary. A true gentleman would explain and apologize. A true gentleman would make his excuses and walk out of her life. But Lee held his tongue.