Page 70 of The Lady Who Said No to the Duke
‘I am sorry,’ he said.‘I had no wish to alarm you.’
‘Alarmme?’
But he was already striding away down the length of the room.
Thea swallowed and sat up straight as she tried to get her hair and her gown into order.At least it was quite clear that whatever Hal felt for her emotionally, he most certainly desired her.
The sensation of something powerful and feminine unfurled inside her.She had no idea what to do with this power, but she was aching to use it now.
* * *
The wedding was to be at noon.At eleven, Thea found herself strangely calm, as though she had gone beyond being tired, beyond being nervous, into a state of unreal tranquillity.
Last night’s dinner, meeting so many guests—most, thankfully, familiar—had been an ordeal, but had left her so tired that she had slept dreamlessly, it seemed, for hours.
Around her the feminine bustle of maids, of Mama, of the four friends she had chosen to be her attendants, was simply background.In an hour, she would walk down the aisle of the chapel to Hal and become his wife.She would marry the man she loved.
The man who liked her and desired her, she reminded herself as the gown was dropped over her head and theother women gasped and sighed and Mama burst into tears, again.
‘Don’t look in the mirror yet,’ Lavinia and Gloria chorused.‘Not until your hair is done.’
Someone had thrown a shawl over the dressing table glass, so she sat looking at its lacework while Eames finished her hair, helped her with earrings and necklace and then stood back with a sigh of satisfaction.
‘Look now,’ her friends urged, clustered around the long mirror on its stand.
Thea looked.
Yes, there is the Duchess of Leamington.Here is Hal’s bride.
* * *
The chapel at Leaming had been built by the Jacobean duke who had seen the one at Hampton Court and been determined to outdo it.Now it absorbed all the guests as though it had been designed for just this wedding, the hushed murmur of their anticipation filling it with echoes.
Hal stood at the altar steps with his old friend, Colonel Jack Wylde, back from Waterloo with a limp and an interesting scar on his left cheek that he assured Hal was ideal for attracting young ladies.Now he stood stock-still as though waiting for a cavalry charge, the wedding ring safely in his fob pocket.
Perhaps waiting for the French cavalry was less stressful than this, Hal thought.He felt as though some of the holly leaves that were part of the decorations had taken up residence under his shirt, so he fixed a serene expression on his face and set himself to study the chapel.
The team of gardeners and housemaids had done a wonderful job, given that it was November.Berried evergreens were lightened by golden ribbons, and stately cream-colouredcandles and bows of creamy organza on the pew-ends made the space look bridal rather than a celebration of Christmas.
Jack unbent enough to mutter from the corner of his mouth, ‘You are supposed to be facing front, not looking yearningly at the door as though you want to bolt.’
Now he knew why he had chosen Jack to stand with him.Suppressing a laugh, Hal turned to face the altar and Miles Haversham, the Castle’s chaplain.‘I suppose you would see it as your duty to bring me down and haul me back?’
‘No such thing.I am reliably informed that if the bridegroom flees, it is the duty of the best man to marry the bride.And I have to say, that is a delightful prospect.’
Then the organist stopped playing something quiet and vague and struck up something triumphantly processional.
Hal turned, all thoughts driven from his head by the sight of Thea on her father’s arm beginning her slow walk towards him.Tall, slender, clad in cream and touches of green, his family’s emeralds glowing at her throat, in her ears, on her hand, she came to him unveiled, her face serious, her eyes wide.In her hands a spray of orchids trembled.
That tremble steadied him.This was not a vision of some goddess; this was a real woman.His woman.She was nervous and he would let none of his own fears show, because now she was his to protect.
He held out his hand and smiled and he saw something run through her, relief perhaps, and her lips curved into an answering smile.
As she reached the steps, she turned and passed her flowers to one of the young women behind her and then her hand was in his, warm and steady as though all her nerves and doubts had fled.
‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here together—’
He knew he should be facing forward, solemnly attentive to what Haversham was saying, but he could not keep his gaze from Thea’s face and, it seemed, she felt compelled to hold that gaze with her own.
