Page 13 of Wedded to the Loveless Duke
Eleanor fell silent.
That I cannot honestly say.
The Duke of Richmond was much different from the dukes she was accustomed to dealing with. Truth be told, if she didn’t know what would happen when a woman would marry, she wouldn’t mind being his. He seemed less inclined to lord over a woman, though she had only shared brief conversations with him before her father would make his way down from his office. She wouldn’t risk her freedom in the hope that Phillip would turn out to be her fairytale prince. Such a thing did not exist, and it was best not to risk anything on things that could never be.
“Do you?” William pressed.
“No.” Her voice rose along with her frustration. “Is that what you wish to hear? No! He seems the perfect gentleman, a man so secure in himself that he finds an intelligent woman a refreshing thing rather than a threat. But such a man does not exist. I will not wed the Duke on some silly notion that he may be the elusive one who truly is so self-confident he need not fear his wife being well-educated and wise as to overshadow him. Please, leave off this discussion. I do not want the Duke of Richmond.”
That wasn’t entirely true, though. Eleanor liked the Duke a great deal. He was smart, considerate and gentle. It helped that he had those beautiful hazel eyes that seemed older and wiser than his years allowed and a tall, lean build that spoke of hidden strength. She admired the way he looked as much at home looking over a book with her in her father’s study as he did astride a horse to head out riding with her father.
William gave her the look he’d given her every time she’d lied as a child. He knew as well as she that she was not being entirely truthful. She did want Phillip, but she was terrified that the fairytale dream would end the moment she vowed to honor and obey him. She could not bear the idea of falling for an illusion and finding herself trapped in a nightmare. Thankfully, though, William did not press the issue as the carriage rolled further into the countryside surrounding London and the palace grounds.
“How far is the wedding venue? Where is it to take place?” Eleanor stared down at her lap. “The bride will not mind the finery of my gown, will she?”
“Only a little further. It will be on the Duke’s grounds with many people from thetonin attendance. Finery is expected, my dear, and I do not believe the bride will… notice.”
“Is she that enamored with her duke?”
“Nerves might be closer to the truth, I daresay,” William murmured.
Eleanor raised an eyebrow. “I thought she was besotted with him given that they chose to wed so hastily.”
“It does not dispel the nerves either individual feels when before a crowd at the altar, Eleanor.”
“You believe the Duke will be nervous too?”
“I cannot say for certain if he will be. I think he may be, but he will likely not show it as she may.” He wasn’t looking at her anymore.
“If she is a lady of good breeding, she will not show it.”
“I hope she will comport herself as a lady of good breeding should.” William spared her a single glance. “But one never knows how a woman who is both stubborn and temperamental might react.”
The carriage turned onto a dirt road that wound its way towards a large mansion and a vast lawn in front of it. Eleanor could just make out the guests milling about there. As they drew a little closer, she could also tell that there were a great many guests as her father had promised. To the side of the mansion, she spotted all of the stationed carriages, their horses already stabled for the duration of the ceremony and the following reception.
William tapped on the roof of the carriage with his walking stick. “Stop here. We will walk the rest of the way.”
Eleanor frowned. “Walk? But whatever for? Look over there. Other guests have had their carriages stationed by the stables.” She pointed out the window to the stables. “We can surely let our driver drop us off closer to the venue. All the guests are already here, and is that the groom waiting at the altar? Look, the guests are sitting. Where is the bride?”
The carriage came to a stop on the dirt path, and William climbed out. “Walk with me, Eleanor. I need to speak with you before we join the other guests.”
Her stomach somersaulted. The tone in his voice was as strange as it had been when she had come downstairs to meet him. Whatever he had to tell her, she was suddenly afraid it would be dreadful news. She alighted from the carriage, which then continued rolling towards the stables, leaving the two of them a little less than half a mile from the back of the wedding venue. He extended his arm to her, and she took it, still feeling a little ill.
“Father, what are they all waiting for? Has the bride not arrived? We seem to have arrived late, but there is no music and no sign of the woman the Duke is to marry.” She squinted at the altar, trying to make out the features of the groom, but he was too far away.
“Eleanor, I need to tell you something. You will be very angry, but you must know there is no other way.”
Eleanor’s heart pounded in her chest, and sweat trickled down her back despite the gentle summer breeze. She pulled her father to a stop and faced him. “Father, what is happening?”
He cupped her cheek in his hand. “Ah, Eleanor, my dear… you look so much like your mother on the day we wed.”
She swallowed hard, glancing at the waiting guests. “Father…” Her voice was stuck in her throat. “W-what are you saying?”
“We should not keep them waiting, Eleanor.”
Her fingers felt cold, and she stared at him as if it might change what he had just implied. “P-please… what are you saying?” Tears filled her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“They are not waiting for another woman, Eleanor. They are waiting for you. Let us not make them wait any longer.”
