Teach Me (The Gentlemen's Club)
Teach Me (The Gentlemen’s Club) Chapter 34

Nicholas

Two Days Later

“Where the hell are we going, Huntley?” Remington asked impatiently. “Why couldn’t I drive the Audi?”

His foul mood also derived from the fact of being awakened at the crack of dawn by his butler, only to find out Sinclair was kidnapped by his mother and his sisters.

Huntley was looking down at him with a shit-eating on his face.

Knowing Redington, who was about to scramble out of the mammoth bed to go after his fiancee, the baron immediately handed him two sealed envelopes.

One from his mama. The other one was from Sinclair.

His sweetheart explained she had to go with the Dowager Viscountess to meet the tenants at Redington’s Place, the family estate. Which was odd. His frown continued to grow while reading the letter. As the current lord and landowner, he should be the one accompanying her instead of his mother. But he could hardly deny Sinclair’s whims these days. It had become his prerogative not to upset her.

Reading his mother’s message, his confusion grew. In a detailed instruction, he was asked to dress according to her specifications, to which he again complied. And he should go with the good baron in all haste without so much a small complaint. Those were the dowager’s exact words.

Huntley was taking full advantage of his friend’s unusually ruffled state. Redington scowled.

“Why the long face, Nick?” He asked dryly. His eyes never leaving the road. They had been driving for hours. To his horror, Huntley had intentionally driven around the familiar countryside in circles. He swore they passed the same signage four times already.

“Are we going to my estate?” Nicholas queried. They passed by a village a few kilometers from his land.

“Yes. Lady Redington asked me to get something you will need today.” Huntley answered vaguely. “By the way, you know I’m loyal to you, and I would die for you, right?”

His words gave the Viscount paused. “What have you done, EJ?”

“Correction. It’s what I am about to do.” Baron Huntley said in an amused tone. Thoroughly enjoying his role.

“What?” Viscount Redington’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“I’m sorry, my friend.” Nicholas felt a small prick on his neck. Incredulous dark brown eyes went to the baron. He was clutching an empty syringe in his left hand. “Your lady made me do it,” were his last words.

Then blackness.

______________

Marching

Nicholas

Groaning, slowly waking up, he twisted his body, trying to get up from the cot at the same time, he tried to form a coherent thought.

-Where was he?-

Nicholas’s lids closed tightly, then fluttered. Blinking, he tried to focus. The dull ache in his head slowly dissipating.

His dark brown eyes surveyed the ceiling of the white tent he was brought to.

-F**k! Where am I? Where is Sinclair?-

Panicking, he swiveled his long limbs and got up. He came face to face with Sandringham.

“Where the f**k is EJ? I’m going to skin him alive with his scalpel!” He growled. The Marquis laughed hard. “He drugged me!” Redington reasoned.

“Your lady’s instruction. Stop the dramatics. Your mother is waiting.” He patted Nicholas’s back. “Come on. Let’s get you ready, big boy.”

Concentrating on his surroundings, still trusting his peers, despite the fact they drugged him, he followed Sandringham to another part of the huge enclosed area.

“What is going on?” Puzzled. His gaze fell on an all-black tuxedo displayed for him. And his friends. EJ, in formal attire, was standing behind the duke. Who was also decked out in his finery.

“Sinclair will kill us if we ruin the surprise. You better get dressed before you are late, Redington.” His eyes narrowed menacingly at the doctor.

“Okay, stop planning my funeral. Reserve your energy for later.” Everyone snickered at EJ’s words.

Grudgingly, he changed into a tuxedo to his surprise, perfectly tailored for him. The duke helped him with his tie while Mountford handed him a glass of bourbon. “Here, you will need this.” The Earl said with a smirk. He downed the strong drink in one gulp. Fire settled on his belly, mellowing his mood. But suspicion hasn’t left him.

“I can’t believe I am allowing this,” Nicholas muttered, gazing at his reflection on the full-length mirror.

“Where are we and what are we attending?”

“Don’t worry. It’s not a funeral.” Sandringham snorted his mirth. “Though your bachelor days will be officially over today.”

“Shut up, you two. Come on, it’s time to go.” Cerdic said.

The white flaps of the massive tent were opened and that was when Redington realized. F**k! His sweetheart was a one-in-a-million.

“You still have time to run, big boy.” Lucian mocked from behind him.

“No way.” The Viscount shook his head. “Where is she?” He scanned the vast field on his land. Pruned and decorated for the event.

“I believe you have to wait at the altar for that.” One of his peers teased. He ignored them.

Servants and workers were putting the finishing touches while guests were ushered to their respective seats.

Nicholas strode to the area where everything was perfectly decorated for his wedding. White arcs made of roses led him to the make-shift altar.

He recognized the local vicar.

“Mr. Chandler.” Redington acknowledged.

“My lord,” the aging man, a close friend of the former lord inclined his head, pleased to officiate the Viscount’s wedding ceremony. “It’s about time.” He added in approval.

“Do you think he would be proud of me?” He continued to look around him. Asking made his heart ached. His sire was a loving father. A devoted husband.

“He is, my boy.” The Vicar answered with conviction. “Just remember the two most important rules. One, the wife is always right. Two, if you think she’s wrong, remember rule number one.”

Redington’s rich boom of laughter filled the air. A rare sight, he made everyone grin. Then he sobered when he heard the scratch of a violin.

Lucien tapped his back. “It’s time.” He nodded, arching his brow in a silent question to the earl. “Yes. I’m your best man since I won the wager.” His gaze went to the rest of the club members occupying the front seats.

Music filled the air, his heart began to hammer in his chest, in anticipation, and the thought of spending the rest of his life with the woman he loved made him impatient.

The procession began. He concentrated on what was about to take place. Cameras were discreetly snapping pictures.

Good. He wanted all of England to know.

Two beautiful girls, his nieces, walked down the aisle. Flowers were strewn on the carpet creating a pool of fragrant flowers. Followed by Ingrid’s three-year-old son, the ring bearer.

Nicholas grinned proudly while the female guests giggled at the children’s cuteness.

Lady Louise, a refined lady he also saw as a little sister, obviously the maid of honor walked towards them, a serene smile on her youthful face. She could give any gentlemen a run for his money with her angelic and innocent beauty. But he knew she already belonged to one man. She just didn’t know it yet. It was something to look forward to in the future. For now, he will keep it a secret.

Then the music changed to the cadence of a traditional wedding march. People seemed to hold their breaths at the picture his wife-to-be presented.

Redington’s attention prevailed to the most awaited part of the ceremony.

Sinclair Yuan, his Viscountess, his lady, a white veil covering the entirety of her delicate features, wearing a simple white silk wedding gown glided towards him serenely.

A shaky smile graced her lips, her soft brown eyes never leaving his, the tremors on her hands unnoticed because of the bouquet of white roses she held.

His future. The lump in his throat made it impossible for him to breathe deeply.

He didn’t care. He had wanted to go to her but he waited until she stood before him. Looking up at him with adoration in her soft depths. “Hi,” she whispered.

“I love you,” was his response. His voice was loud and clear for everyone to hear.

She sobbed her happiness. “Surprise.” She answered shakily.

One strong hand glided to her back, he guided her to the steps leading them both to the vicar at the altar. “The best surprise of my life. Come. Let’s start our future, my sweet.”

“Yes, my lord. Let’s.”