Page 6 of The Jilted Duchess
Her breath stuttered as she locked eyes with the man standing in the front row. He towered head and shoulders above the other men, drawing her gaze to him. She shuddered a little at the intense stare burning through her. He was surely the most intimidating man in the room, and yet a fire curled in her stomach like nothing she had felt before.
Alexandra had been surrounded by gentlemen all her life, but she had never encountered one who looked anything likehim. He was more beast than gentleman, barrel-chested with broad shoulders and a weathered, rugged face. His clothes were fine, the only sign that he did indeed belong here among these dukes and earls. Alexandra dimly wondered how he had ended up inthis sector of society, when surely he had been neither bred nor raised for it.
“Alexandra?”
Her father’s muttering reminded Alexandra that she had stopped dead at the end of the aisle. She could hardly bear to tear her eyes away from the ragged giant in front of her, but when she finally glanced at the altar, she felt a rush of confusion. The minister stood, tapping a finger on his Bible and looking distinctly unimpressed. But the spot next to him where her groom should already be standing was empty. Her gaze strayed back to the bear of a man, and she watched his expression turn confused. He continued to look into her eyes as Theodore started whispering to him, and when he suddenly turned to the altar, she felt a strange rush of disappointment at no longer being connected.
Honestly, get a grip on yourself, Lexi. You’re here to marry some rotten scoundrel, not make eyes at strange men.
She turned to her father, the question of what she should do on the tip of her tongue, when the chapel doors burst open once more and a breathless messenger boy staggered in.
“Beggin’ yer pardons, my lords, ladies, the dratted horse chucked me off didn’t it. I told old Willis it was going lame but no, the message had to get here. I had to run a mile - more even!” His eyes searched the room, looking hopefully for someone who looked authoritative enough to take his message yet sympathetic enough to throw a coin or two his way for his troubles.
Heavy footsteps broke the sudden silence and Alexandra sucked in a breath as she found herself suddenly face to face with the man’s hefty chest. Up close, he was more mountain than man, and as her eyes scanned upwards, she found him already staring down at her. Her cheeks burned and she turned away before anyone could notice her blush.
The man brushed gently past her and reached for the envelope clutched in the errand boy’s hand, exchanging it for a few shiny pennies.
“Oh thank you, my lord, much obliged,” The boy bowed so deeply he had to stop himself from falling forward, before skittering from the church.
Alexandra snickered at the young boy’s antics, but the smile fell from her face as the man turned back to face them, tension etched across his face.
“Is- is everything all right?” She asked quietly, aware of the whispering and craning necks behind them. James had been holding her arm steady, but now she felt a slight shake in his grip.
The man hesitated, worrying his lip with his teeth, before reluctantly looking down at her. “Benedict. He- well. I’m afraid he isnae coming.”
Alexandra was surprised to hear his strong accent and unfamiliar words. But as the meaning sunk in, she frowned. “I don’t understand. What do you mean he’s not coming?”
“Just what I said, lass. He isnae coming. He won’t marry ye.”
“But-”
“Scoundrel,”James cut his daughter off, fury loud in his voice.
The man opened his mouth to reply but stopped, his expression turning intense and hateful. Alexandra turned to follow his gaze and saw the older woman he had been sitting with smirking at the little group. She had assumed, based on her being one of the only people there who was not in Alexandra’s own immediate family, that the woman must be the groom’s mother and her look of triumph now only confirmed the suspicion.
Alexandra began to panic. The immediate relief she had felt upon hearing the contents of the letter had begun to fade, and in its place was a maelstrom of emotion. She knew she should be worried, that her reputation would not survivetwoscandals in such quick succession, and that she would be highly unlikely to find any husband after this. But inside, she was furious. She had been forced to marry a dangerous scoundrel of a man who had looked at her as though she were a prime piece of pork from the butcher, and yet he had stood her up? The sheer impertinence of it!
“Nay matter. I’ll wed ye instead.”
The shocked chatter of her sisters and their husbands had been getting louder, but all the noise cut out at once. Silence filled the chapel as Alexandra blinked quickly. She turned back to the man who was staring resolutely over her shoulder.
“You can’t!” The mother stood to shout up the aisle, her triumph replaced with annoyance.
The man simply shrugged. “Course I can. I was the one who got the license, I can easily change the groom’s name on it. Saves me searching for a wife, doesnae it? I’ll marry her.” Now he was smirking, and Alexandra could imagine his mother steaming with anger behind her.
She felt decidedly faint. In the space of just a couple of minutes, she had gone from marrying a man she hardly knew, to marrying no one, to marrying a man she didn’t know at all. She was so confused, barely understanding what was happening anymore. Decisions were being made about her whole life as though they were nothing, mere inconveniences to solve, and she had no idea how to make her own opinion on the subject known. But even if she’d had the chance, Alexandra suspected she couldn’t form a coherent opinion on the subject if her life depended on it.
The man stepped up to her, drawing her gaze once more. Alexandra didn’t understand the way her chest seemed to tighten as he looked down at her. “Hector Lennox.”
It took her a moment to realize he had introduced himself. She swallowed thickly. Finally, she had something to call him other than “The Man”. She nodded slightly. “Alexandra Balfour, Your Grace.”
He flinched minutely at the term, but Alexandra had barely a moment to think about it before he held his hand out to her. “May I?” His voice still had its edge, but pitched low and softhe sounded like he was talking to an injured horse rather than a person.
Alexandra stared at his hand. She turned to her father, and James let go of her arm, moving her hand closer to Hector’s. He smiled encouragingly at her, and though his smile didn’t meet his eyes she knew what he was saying.
You don’t exactly have a choice, my girl. Consider yourself lucky that the Duke of Murray has such a sense of duty.
She steeled herself before placing her hand delicately within Hector’s. Alexandra inhaled sharply as their skin touched. Was she imagining it, or did his mouth quirk upwards a little as he led her down the aisle? Her mind was whirring, but all her thoughts faded into the background as she felt how rough and ready his hands were, calloused from the kind of labor her father and brothers-in-law surely had never encountered. This man beside her was an enigma, a mysterious beast dressed in finery and titles. But all the cravats and tailoring in the world could not disguise the roughness she felt pressed against her palm.
