Page 9 of Wedded to the Beastly Duke
“Well,” Emmeline said pragmatically, “he likely will not have me killed in his rambling old castle. After all, no doubt he wants heirs, and a dead woman cannot provide those, can she?”
“Emmeline! Do not be so crass.” Her mother mopped at her eyes with her handkerchief. “I have heard such things be done. If he has a lover elsewhere?—”
“Then no doubt he will continue to see her once we are married. I doubt either of us is expecting him to stay true to his vows, Mama.Icertainly am not.” Emmeline turned to her sister. “As for you, Aurelia, I did this for you. Forus.”
“But—”
“I was unlikely to marry anyway,” Emmeline said firmly. “I am practically on the shelf. Three failed Seasons behind me and not a single reputable offer of marriage.” Something she was well and truly resigned to, but no one could predict the future, after all. “There are worse things than being a duchess, after all. Besides, I am not afraid of him.”
Aurelia frowned. “Do you mean it?”
“Yes,” Emmeline lied.
There was something worryingly stern and autocratic about the Duke, but she was relatively certain that he would not have her killed, and anything else she could endure.
And if he thought he was getting an easy bride, then he was truly mistaken. Evidently, his rules were important to him and he expected his word to be taken as law.
“I will be back in town in less than two months,” she said, giving them a mischievous smile. “You will see.”
“You cannot be serious,” her mother said, blinking rapidly at her. The woman’s large eyes and the emotion in them made her look a little owlish. “How do you propose you will do that?”
“Do you think he will listen to your requests?” Aurelia asked seriously.
Emmeline laughed. “Of course not. But I have a plan, and if I am right about him, he will send me back to live with you again. Or at the very least, to live in town without him. After all, it is not as though he makes any effort with Society. No doubt he dislikes the very idea of attending social events, and so he will be more than content for me to do so alone, or with you all. You see? I shall not be parted from you for very long.”
“But how?” Aurelia asked. “How will you compel him to send you back?”
Emmeline leaned in. “Well, firstly I shall?—”
There was a knock on the door.
“Emmeline?” her father called. “Are you ready? The Duke’s carriage is here, and the ceremony will begin soon.”
Emmeline took a deep breath. “Trust me,” she said to her sister and mother, squeezing both their hands. “I shall be perfectly fine. And I will write to you every day until I return.”
“Be safe,” Aurelia pleaded. “Think of us.”
“Of course, I shall. Farewell, my loves.” Emmeline kissed them both on the cheek and left to join her father.
* * *
The ceremony was to be held in St. Dunstan’s Church on Fleet Street, as St. George’s Church on Hanover Square had not been available at such short notice. Adam loosened his cravat from where he stood at the front of the church, wishing this entire nonsense could be over and done with. Naturally, the ceremony was a necessary part of the marriage, but it felt so unnecessary and overdone. He would have been happy saying his vows in front of the vicar and no one else.
Instead, the doors opened, and his bride entered the church, dressed in a pale blue silk dress that hugged her curves in an indecent way. She was almost the same height as her father, a fact he reminded himself ought to be unbecoming, and her chestnut hair hung in ringlets around her flushed cheeks. Her eyes sparkled green.
Abruptly, he turned his attention back to the front and did his best to ignore her. It was impossible to ignore the force of her presence, however, and she remained very much in his line of vision as he bored a hole into the vicar, who smiled at them both and began the ceremony.
Several times, he sensed Lady Emmeline glancing at him, perhaps wondering at his coldness. He was at his most severe, he knew, dressed almost entirely in black as though he was in mourning, and with no hint of a smile.
He was no expert, but he suspected that smiling was somewhat expected at one’s wedding. Nevertheless, that was probably on occasions when onewantedto marry. This was not a want, and it transpired that those two things could exist entirely separately from one another.
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the vicar said.
Adam spared his new wife the briefest glance he could muster. She had turned to face the congregation present, who were almost entirely made up of her family. Her mother, father and sister were sitting in the pews, each face a little pale and mournful.
Perhaps no one was expecting smiles today, after all.
He had invited no one; there was no one he might be tempted to ask to attend his wedding. Had his brother still been alive… but that was a dangerous train of thought to go down.
