"Challenge him to a duel."

Conway peered up at the duke who was looking at him with a peculiar expression. "Your grace, what do you mean? Why would I do that?"

"To make it seem like the Marquess has an option. His integrity and honor is too high to accept and that can yet again be another reason for justification for killing him cold blood." The duke replied as he twirled his grey streaked moustache.

"You have a point, your grace, I will do so."

"Good."

"Good."

The two men glanced at each other and then away when the gaze turned awkward. "What will we do if we're caught." Conway mused as he twirled the drink in his glass. The moonlight streaming through the window caused the amber liquid to glimmer and the low fire in the room, causing it to look like molten gold.

"Deny all charges."

"But they could have witnesses to their marriage, witnesses that are needed to make it legal. Scottish law and whatnot."

"Who do you think they'll believe?" the duke cried, rubbing his hand through his salt and pepper hair. "A duke and an earl, or a mere commoner?"

"You have a point, your grace." Th duke just continued to wear the same expression of boredom. Conway downed the glass of brandy, the stitching burning taste of it no longer affecting him. It seemed like honey as travelled down his skin. A sudden warmth pooled through him and he slowly started to relax, all doubts slowly washing away.

"Besides, unless you are a coward, you will not back out," the duke growled, challenging Conway.

"I'm not," Conway but back, slamming his empty glass on the wooden table.

"You better not be," the duke muttered. His voice was gravely and low, but the threat was still there, lurking beneath it. "This has cost all everything already. If people knew what a duke was doing... I could lose than more than just an heir."

He stood up and walked towards Conway and slammed a finger into his chest. "You will handle that gun tomorrow like you mean it. I saw how you looked at it the other day. Don't be a coward."

Conway just harrumphed and stalked towards his room, slamming the door on the way out.

My lord, it would be my greatest delight to Christian you and your future wife in holy matrimony. I am looking forward to such an auspicious occasion, my lord.

-Reverend Thomas

Blake grinned at the letter in his hand and waved in delight. "Sophia, we have ourselves a priest." He grabbed her by both the legs and swung her, causing her to squeal in delight.

She clasped the letter out of his hand. "Your old friend said he would do so?"

Blake's teeth winked in the sunlight that steadily streamed in through the window the morning after they had spun to Scottish music. "Yes!" he cried, and grabbed the letter from her fingertips yet again.

"That is marvellous. I do wish my family could be here." Her eyes slightly drooped in sadness and he titled her chin up.

"I do too. I know you've cared for them for years, as their mother like figure. But now we get to start of own family."

"I can't help worrying about them. Father... he is unpredictable. They are staying at my grandparents, but my siblings are always in danger from him. He is... not you may assume he is. He is not just a gambler. He is dangerous," Sophia whispered as the night he lay a palm on her fluttered through her mind.
"Sophia, just one day, relax. They will be fine. If you want, after we are married, I will send a rider out ahead with a letter you will write for them. You can voice your support in that," Blake murmured as he traced a finger across her cheekbone. She leaned against it and nodded.

"Now, what do you say, wife? Ready to make it official?"

Sophia's face tilted up at him and was radiant, glowing with a happiness unlike anything he had known before. He could see the concern lurking in those depths, but she submerged it and let her joy instead. She placed a small hand on her belly, which had every so slightly bulged out.

"Yes. There might be a problem though." She tutted nervously. Blake raised his eyebrows.

Sophia pointed a long finger to the dress spread out on the bed, a beautiful yet simple white gown. Lace adorned the dress, creating a complex yet elegant design trim and the skirt belted out like a flower of purity.

"What seems to be the problem? It looks fine."

Sophia shot him an exasperated glance. "It won't fit. My mother was of a slimmer build than me, her waist smaller and her shoulders narrower. In ordinary circumstance, it would have been a tight fit, but I could have squeezed myself in there, but I have grown... shapelier because of the child. The waist would be much too narrow now."

"Did you not wear it an see before we departed?"

"I didn't think I needed to. I was under the assumption it would fit. When I presented myself to society all those years ago, right before I did so publicly, I wore this dress, as a final tribute to my mother. It was all right them but now..." Sophia's voice had become low and she sounded like she was on the brink of tears.

"Here, here stop fussing." He pulled her close to his chest and rocked her there, and she clawed at his shirt in dismay. He gently pushed her away from him a minute later, earning him a slightly annoyed look.

Ignoring her hurt expression, he sauntered towards his travel chest and opened it with a flourish. "I was going to give it you after we were married, but well with circumstance changing, might as give it now."

He pulled out a beautiful white gown, trimmed with Honiton lace, much like Queen Victoria's gown in her ascension. At second glance, a faint gold trail of exquisite stitching worked its way up on the bodice and the lower skirts, casting the dress in a goldish glow.

Sophia gasped. "Where... where did you get that?"

"It was initially meant for Colette when I was to marry her, the silk from India to be made a dress, but when I realized I was marrying you, I had it stitched for your size. It is adjustable and free, meant for casual occasions that require less dressy clothes." He pointed to the strings in the back.

"Blake," Sophia murmured, her breath catching in her throat. "This is beautiful. Thank you." She twirled around the room in glee and Blake just leaned against the wall watching her spin.

"I am sure you would like as good in it, as you would do off, my lady." He suddenly spoke, causing Sophia to stumble ever so slightly. Sophia gaped at human then strutted towards and whacked him on the shoulder.

"Sometimes it takes me a moment to realize that you are indeed a rake, Mr Cavendish. Is that how you address a lady?"
Pulling her towards him, he softly kissed her on the lips. "No, this is how. And it seems so, Mrs. Cavendish, that you like to be called wife and have... improper things whispered in your ear." He traced a finger up her arm and her neck and she shivered.

"Someone is getting ahead of themselves, aren't they? We aren't married yet and I could run away right now, you know."

His finger continued to move all over her body, along her waist and hips and then moved back up to trace her collarbone. Her eyes fluttered in pleasure and her lips parted as a soft sigh escaped her.

"Is that so, Sophia?"

"Mmhm" She mumbled incoherently, weakly grasping at his shirt to tug him closer to her. But before their lips would meet her whirled away from her.

"Don't think you can get ahead of yourself and get all of me just yet. Whatever else is the marriage night for?" He guffawed and pulled away. Sophia staggered a little in the front and stared at him in awe.

"You are so infuriating. Dear God."

He snickered, his lips pulling into a wry smile. "Get ready, Sophia Brighton. We have a wedding to attend."

"Thank you so much for doing this, Tom." Blake shook the hand of the man that would officiate his marriage. Most elopements in Scotland were done by commoner and such, but Reverend Thomas and old friend to the Blake offered his services instead, when Blake had put his request out there.

The tall man with salt and pepper hair, long robes and kind, brown eyes nodded. "It is my honor my lord."

Blake grinned back. The faint music which Blake has requested for, started to play in the background. Blake turned from the priest and tugged at his wedding clothes, which had a tailored dark blue jacket neatly pressed.

The vision that swam in front of his sights was unlike anything. The beautiful chandeliers that hung on the ceilings, the intricate carvings that made up the wall, all disappeared into a bright light. The wooden pews on either side became a blur, and so did the couple Scottish witnesses to the side and all he could see was the woman walking towards him.

God did not have angels as beautiful as her.

It seemed like forever when she finally reached where he stood eagerly. Rocking on the balls of his feet. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so nervous. It was possibly when he had first seen her all those years ago. The blur sapphires her had given her adorned her slim neck and her dark curls were knotted into a pretty knot. A veil clasped her hair behind and hung down her back.

Sophia had left earlier than him to get ready at the church, under the watchful eye of Tom. Never did he expect her to emerge like heaven had met earth in the form of mortal like her.

If Sophia looked like a vision usually, this was nothing compared to it. Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty had nothing on her.

The music slowly dwindled to a stop and Blake clasped Sophia's hands in his, ready to say the vows. Before the ceremony could begin however, the doors opened with a big crash and both Sophia and Blake whipped towards it, startled at the intrusion.

Her father stepped forward and grinned a devious smile. "Sophia, how could you possibly get married without your father?"

"Where have all of your manners gone, child?"

A/N: Dun, dun, dun... What do you think will happen next?

Readers! Thank you for taking your time to read this chapter! Be sure to vote, comment and share it with others! Every single thing means the world to me! I love you all!