Lady Alexis took a deep breath; her heart was hammering so loudly in her chest that she was certain the entire room must be able to hear it. A fleeting glance at the gathered assembly showed that she did not know half the people in attendance; it was not a fact that surprised her, though it added to her anxiety. This was after all, the most talked about wedding of the year. Held in the height of the London Season between the Marquis of Blakely and one of the wealthiest heiresses on the market, it could do nothing except draw attention.
Looking up and meeting her soon to be husband’s eye, he smiled gently at her, and she felt somewhat reassured. It was true that she did not love Lord Dante Delacourt, Seventh Marquis of Blakely, but neither did she despise him. And by marrying so well off, she was securing her family a place in society.
As a result of this union, her sister’s would have far better chances at making successful marriages of their own. Alexis kept repeating all those reasons in her head as she heard the Marquis repeating his vows, her palms sweated, and she had to resist the urge to rub them against the side of her beautiful gown.
If she were honest, she wanted nothing more than to run from the church, but as the eldest daughter, she was to be the sacrificial lamb. Finding her families faces in the packed crowd, they were all beaming at her. Alexis tried to smile back, but found that she could not.
“Do you Lady Alexandra Grant take…?” Here it was, time for Alexis to choke out her own vows. She braced herself to actually say it, but the Priest had trailed off and turned ghostly pale. Alexis was perplexed, looking to her groom she found that his attention was focused on the rear of the church as well, his face an angry red hue.
Craning her neck to see the commotion, Alexis blanched as ten armed men clad in black dominos and long flowing black cloaks strode determinedly up the aisle. The man in the lead stopped mere inches from her fiancé and cocked his pistol, the click echoed ominously throughout the silent church.
“See here young man, this is a place of God…” The Priest fell silent as one of the men stepped forward and aimed his weapon directly at the clergy man’s heart.
“Miss Grant, if you would please come with me?” The man, who was obviously the leader, spoke eloquently like a gentleman, and beside her she felt the Marquis stiffen. How did this man know her name?
“I beg your pardon? I do not think so!” Lady Alexis tried to look unafraid by staring down her nose at the man, not an easy task considering he was far larger than she. The bandit gave a derisive snort and reaching out, grasped the long white beaded sleeve of her wedding gown and yanked her forward. Alexis was thrown off balance and pitched towards the man, falling against the hardness of his body he did not budge an inch though she fell most forcefully.
“I am afraid that was not a request.” He sounded almost regretful, almost . Alexis saw the Marquis still standing completely motionless to her left. He did nothing to try and stop the man and her heart sank. She was being kidnapped, and her fiancé was not lifting a finger to stop it.
She saw her father begin to rise angrily from his seat, the leader following Alexis’s gaze looked to his man, who had just primed his pistol and pointed it at her father, and shook his head. The man released the primed hammer and Alexis saw him instead club her father over the head with the pistol when he charged the masked man.
Alexis cried out in fear for her father even as the large man lifted her easily over his shoulder and carried her struggling and fighting towards the door. She could see his men forming a protective guarded circle of weaponry behind them in case anyone tried to follow, a few people rose angrily from their seats, but the last view Alexis had was of the Marquis still standing at the
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