Page 59 of The Devil and the Heiress
“Yes, he did not push back on that point.”
“Good.” She didn’t mean it, though, no matter how much she wanted to. The man she had loved would fight for her. She wanted that man. Not this one who would likely prefer his freedom.
“I’ll send word the moment the settlement has been finalized.” Max kissed her forehead and left the way he had come in.
Violet joined Helena on the settee.
“All will be settled soon,” said Helena.
“Yes, I know. I simply cannot help wondering how I could have allowed myself to be deceived so.”
“Perhaps you weren’t as deceived as you’d have yourself believe.”
“How so?”
“Your feelings were real. You spent days with him, and I’m convinced that at least some of that revealed his true character.”
He had saved her. That was the part Violet was struggling with. If he were completely mercenary, would he have chased the carriage toward the river and pulled her out? Would he have carried her on his injured ankle?
“He did sit by my bedside while I was unconscious and readJane Eyrealoud to me.”
“Then perhaps at least some of the affection he returned to you was real, as well.”
“Perhaps.” She had to believe it was true or else she might go mad. She couldn’t go through her entire life questioning her every instinct. “But that doesn’t change the facts of the matter. He lied to me and used me for his own gain.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Helena agreed. “I do not mean to urge you to forgive him. I only hope to reassure you that your feelings, that you, are not at fault here. The blame is entirely with him.”
“Thank you, Helena. I appreciate that.” Violet didn’t entirely agree, but to know that her friend believed it was a comfort. “If only it would take the sting out of his not agreeing to marry me unless Papa gives in to his demands. Whatever affection he feels for me apparently isn’t deep enough to overcome his financial concerns.”
“He is a fool.”
And she along with him.
•••
The wedding took place a few days later, on a Sunday by special dispensation to avoid the public spectacle that might have occurred otherwise. Christian held the power, so Papa had agreed to his settlement demands the morning after they had been made, just as Max had predicted he would. Violet walked up the grand staircase in the North Wing of Somerset House to the first floor as if in a dream. Her parents had been waiting downstairs when she and Max had arrived. There had been a stiff and achinglyformal greeting between them before Max took her arm and led her upstairs to the office of the general registrar.
She took a breath to calm her nerves as a servant opened the door. Inside, Christian, Jacob, and the man whom she assumed to be the registrar rose as their group entered. He was an older man who stood behind a rather large desk that had been wiped clean of everything except a ledger that appeared to be some sort of register, a Bible, and another book opened to a page. She dared not look at Christian full on, not if she intended to get through this.
She had seen enough to know that he wore dove gray trousers and a charcoal morning coat with a deep blue tie and waistcoat. It was in sharp contrast to how she had last seen him in shirtsleeves and bare feet. Though handsome, he stood rigid and cold, unapproachable, and yet she had no choice but to go and stand beside him. He would be her husband by the time she left this room, a fact that still didn’t seem real.
She wore a gown of thin batiste that buttoned up the front with pretty bits of lace along the chest, at her cuffs, and along the skirt. It had a short, ruffled train. Helena had helped her add a lace veil, though they had pinned it so it didn’t cover her face and instead trailed down her back. The gown itself wasn’t strictly speaking a wedding gown, having been made for the eventuality of attending a summer party. There had been no time to have a true wedding gown made, as well as no need, since there would be no large church wedding. Violet had chosen this one because it was the prettiest of the few white gowns she owned. Like an idiot, she hoped he liked it, and then despised that the thought had crossed her mind.
Swallowing thickly, she came to stand beside Christian and inclined her head when the registrar greeted her and her family. Her parents took their places next to her, with Christian and Jacob to her left and Max behind her.Christian made no move to grasp her hand, not that she was expecting that. She held no flowers, and August wasn’t even here to share the moment with her. It hardly felt like a true wedding at all.
“Let us get this done with,” Papa said, his voice harsh with anger.
Done with.Another transaction he wanted finished because it hadn’t quite worked out the way he wanted.
“Perhaps you would prefer to wait downstairs.” Christian’s voice was clipped and precise with his own anger. She grimaced inwardly at the coldness contained within it. He sounded like a stranger to her.
The registrar cleared his throat, apparently deciding it would be best to move things along, and picked up the open book. The air was thick with antagonism. “We are here today to join the Right Honorable Christian, Earl of Leigh, to Miss Violet Crenshaw in matrimony. If there would be any who would voice an objection to why these two shall not be joined, let him speak now.” There was only the slightest pause before he continued. “Very well. Let us proceed with the vows.” Looking at Christian, he said, “My lord, if you would be so good as to repeat after me.”
They faced forward, staring at the registrar instead of each other. Fitting, she supposed, for what amounted to a sham. The inflection in Christian’s voice did not change as he repeated his vows. Neither did hers, though it was because she forced herself to speak them in a clear voice past the lump in her throat. There was no ring pushed onto her finger in a moment of tender urgency, there was no kiss to celebrate. There was only the registrar saying, “You are now man and wife.”
“There. That is done,” said Mother, nodding with a smile as if she had accomplished some task and could put it behind her.
“If you could sign here, my lord.” The registrar pushed the ledger over.
