For some reason, his carriage was at the lead of the procession. The instrumentalists followed just behind him, playing a tune that could deoress any soul.
He was the only guest that was allowed to use a vehicle. The others grumbled silently, envying him for defying tradition because they couldn't.
Some women were desperate enough to ask for a ride with him.
But of course, he was not about to incline himself to endure the company he abhorred for the sake of being polite.
The skies still hadn't recovered from the heavy downpour of the previous night.
When he glanced at the guests that had begun the long walk to the chapel, he noticed that Miss Stenly was nowhere to be seen.
Neither was her guard, or her precious Lord Bronan.
They were probably going to come out together.
