Page 18 of An Arranged Marriage with a Mad Marquess
Patrina’s gaze darted between his shaking hand and his face. Unexpectedly, she lifted her free hand to his wrist, steadying him.
He swallowed hard, eyes flying up to meet hers. She gave a tiny, encouraging smile. The ring slipped onto her finger, the vows were said, and it was done. They were married.
What have I done?Neil thought frantically.What have I done?
They turned to greet the congregation as husband and wife, the cheers somewhat muted. Neil saw a great many blank, stony, and disapproving faces turned towards him. He bit the inside of his cheek and tried not to care. They were only concerned about Miss Marshville, after all.
No, not Miss Marshville. She was the Marchioness of Morendale now, Lady Patrina Tidemore.
Her hand was clasped in his, and he wasn’t entirely sure when she had put it there. Or had he taken her hand? Suddenly, Neil was aware that his head was thick and pounding, and he felt dizzy.
“We have to go,” he murmured urgently to his brand-new bride. “Are you ready to leave now?”
She blinked up at him. “I… I hoped to say goodbye to my family. I thought we would go back for a cup of tea, at least. “
“No. I… I must go home.”
She pressed her lips together, barely concealing disappointment. “Very well. But I must bid them farewell, first. You can allow me that, at least.”
He flinched. “Yes. Indeed, I can allow you that.”
***
The four of them would be travelling back in one carriage, with another carriage following with Patrina’s things and her maid.
Neil shook Lord Marshville’s hand with a wan little smile, bowed to Lady Marshville and the remaining two daughters, and then climbed into the carriage. It seemed kinder to let Patrina say goodbye to her sisters and parents alone.
Although, of course, it wasn’tgoodbyeas such. Morendale wasn’t so very far from here. Her family could visit, surely?
Lady Emma and Cynthia were already seated in the carriage, skirts spreading out to take up most of the space. They sat opposite each other, and Neil slid onto the seat beside his mother. He thought that Miss Marshville – no, not Miss Marshville anymore! – would prefer to sit by Cynthia, rather than her new mother-in-law.
The ring, his new wedding-ring, sat coldly around his finger, clinking when he touched door handles and such. It felt unfamiliar – he never wore rings, preferring instead to keep his signet ring and seal in his pocket or on his desk, ready for when he needed it, but not weighing down his hand.
He supposed he couldn’t do the same with a wedding ring.
“You did very well, Neil,” Cynthia said suddenly, leaning forward to pat him on the knee. “And you looked very well, too. Congratulations! You’re a married man, now.”
He smiled faintly. “You say I did well, but there wasn’t much expected of me to do, I think. Besides sayingI do, of course.”
He glanced out of the window, and immediately wished he hadn’t. His new wife was clung to her mother as though grasping at a cherished lifeline, her shoulders trembling with quiet sobs. Lord Marshville’s face was livid with grief, standing helplessly by with his arms dangling by his sides. Miss Agnes and Miss Gillian were dabbing their eyes with handkerchiefs.
He turned away, glad that he couldn’t hear what they were saying from inside the carriage. It was an intensely private moment, and one he ought not to be overhearing.
“It’s always difficult, leaving a happy home,” Lady Emma said suddenly, head angled away to look out of the carriage window at her side. “Miss Marshville will find it difficult to adjust, at first. That is entirely natural. But with time, she will settle into her new role, and her place. She will be happy, with time, Neil.”
“With time, with time, that’s all you keep saying,” Neil responded, words spilling out of his mouth faster than he could stop them. “Will I still be alive when she finds her happiness? Will she only find it after I’m gone? I shouldn’t have made her marry me, Mother. I wish… I wish I could undo it. She doesn’t deserve this. Look at her, she’s sobbing her heart out. Because of me. Because ofme, Mother!”
Lady Emma shook her head. “You don’t understand. Miss Marshville has no prospects. None. The best she could hope for was her two younger sisters making good marriages, so that she could bounce between their homes once her parents were gone and she would have no way of supporting herself. The world is not kind to women, Neil. You are clever enough to understand that. Everybody knows that Miss Marshville had no attachments and no engagements, so why do you think that marrying you is such a terrible fate?”
“Because it’s me,” Neil responded bleakly, too tired to think much about arguing. “Because I am the one she has to marry.”
Cynthia reached out, touching his knee. “I wish you wouldn’t be like this, Neil,” she said quietly. “Sometimes I think it’s not just your condition which is draining your energy. You are doing that yourself, too.”
Before he could respond, the carriage door opened, and all three of them fell silent.
Miss Marshville climbed into the carriage; head ducked. Her mother stood in the background, with an arm wrapped around each of her remaining daughters.
Lord Marshville was the one who had just handed his daughter up into the carriage. His face was twisted with grief, and Neil had to look away.
