Page 67 of His Ruined Duchess

“We will escort you to the carriage, Your Grace.” Selina nodded reflexively, not speaking.

She was simply led through the motions, her maids finishing with the preparation and directing her to the carriage that waited outside the estate. She would ride within it to the church where she would marry Magnus. That was certain. There was nothing that might be done to change it now, and a familiar sense of dread and despondency overwhelmed her.

Selina had walked this path to the gallows of marriage once before, and on this sunny spring day, she would do so again.

Then, as she stepped down from the last stair outside the estate, her toe snagged in a small crack. Stumbling briefly, her attendants were there to ensure she didn’t fall, but in the scuffle, she managed to catch her veil with her foot. The delicate fabric was ripped near the bottom. It wasn’t a large tear, hardly noticeable when the veil was allowed to fall naturally, but her maid gasped.

“Oh dear me! Your veil.”

The women around her were buzzing like bees, and Selina held up a hand, clearing her throat loudly.

“We shall not keep everyone waiting. It is fine. Please, assist me to enter the coach, and we will away to the church.”

She could see the distress on their faces, but it was silly to allow themselves to be so upset about a small tear. There were more important things to see to today, and Selina couldn’t stand the idea of delaying this a moment longer. She wished to get it all done and over with.

Quietly, the attendants righted themselves, helping Selina into the carriage. When she was seated, they all stepped back, making room for the coach to leave the estate. But there was a pause, and Selina leaned up from her seat and stuck her head out of the window, turning to eye the tiger.

“Is there an issue?”

The young man shook his head but stepped down from the coach and walked toward the front. As he returned to where Selina could see him, the man carried a small black cat in his arms.

“Apologies, Your Grace. This little fellow didn’t feel like leaving the road, so I had to fetch him. We’ll be off straight away now.”

Selina’s stomach pinched, and she flicked her stare toward the maids who were still gathered before the house to watch her leave. They were full of sour expressions and hands wringingwith worry. Selina knew well enough of the superstition, but she didn’t require a cat to tell her that her marriage was doomed to be one of loveless disinterest.

That was the arrangement after all.

She smiled, nodding at the tiger as he stepped back up onto the coach, and it started to move slowly down the pathway that led away from her home. Herformerhome.

Nausea pulled at her stomach, making the compression of the stays that much worse, and Selina glanced out the window as the rumbling motion of the carriage swayed her. There, through the window of the study, she could see Hugh standing stoic and unmoving as he watched her leave.

Selina’s breath hitched in her chest, and she had to fight back a sob. The longer she looked, however, the more she realized that Hugh did not look impassive or unmoved. Quite the contrary. The longer she looked, each second she locked eyes with the man behind that glass, Selina could see more and more devastation take hold of his features.

Hugh’s brow was knitted fiercely, his scowl perceptible even as she was driven farther and farther away. The last thing she could make out was the way he placed his hand upon the glass.

He was not coming to the wedding, and that, of course, made sense. Selina only wished she had a similar option. As the estate faded from view, she turned to face forward in her seat, staringat the empty seat across from her in the coach. She was alone, just as she had been the day she married Easton.

Selina wasutterlyalone.

Chapter Thirty-Three

The carriage took Selina away. Hugh watched through the window of the study, laying his hand on the glass because he simply couldn’t hold back the urge to reach out for her. It was a cruel thing to do to himself, to watch as the woman who had captivated his soul disappeared from sight… off to a church to marry someone else.

At my own behest in fact.

Hugh sighed, laying his head against the window as his pulse throbbed in his temples. The surface was cool against his heated flesh, and he pulled at the cravat that was secured around his neck. He couldn’t breathe like this. He couldn’t think or move or do anything beyond wallowing in the utter pit of despair that he’d dug for himself.

“Ugh, you are a pathetic mess,” he grumbled, lifting his second glass of whiskey up to his lips and downing a heavy gulp.

He had come straight to the study when he left his bedroom this morning. Hugh didn’t speak to anyone or even so much as make eye contact with any of the unfortunate souls who had to share a house with him. Instead, he’d locked himself behind the sturdy doors of this study and wandered about the place before pouring himself a drink first thing in the morning.

Which was quite odd even for him.

And it was his plan to remain here in this study, maybe taking a few meals every now and then, until Selina had been officially moved into Magnus’ estate. He would miss the wedding, but that seemed a societal offense he could manage. Hugh simply couldn’t bring himself to attend. Watching would tear him to shreds, and he feared he might do something he would regret.

Like tearing down that aisle and snatching Selina by the arm and dragging her home with me. Ugh, yes, truly pathetic indeed.

Taking another sip of his whiskey, Hugh focused on the way it burned down his esophagus. The discomfort was brief and hardly noteworthy compared to the furious ache that festered behind his ribs. Hugh had never been heartbroken before, but he could see now why it was written about in tragic sonnets.

---