Brock watched the rain droplets travel down the glass window of the coach as he and Rosalind rode toward the chapel in Hampshire. She looked resplendent in her fine gown as she laced and unlaced her fingers nervously. Brock reached over and covered her hands with one of his.

"You don't have to do this, Rosalind. I can help you escape."

She laughed, her eyes suddenly brightening. "I want to do this, Brock. I have no doubts about marrying Ashton. I am feeling nervous, ...